Supernatural: The Hands Of Ghosts


6. Dean

I woke up to the sound puking. I got up, and walked into the bathroom. Dean was leaned over the toilet, puking. It was this black colored stuff. It was disgusting. He lifted his head to look at me, and that's when I saw the man in the mirror. I felt it's cold hand slip around my neck, and I yelled out. Only to have these feelings. Regret, sorrow, they were so dark. Dean stood, and yelled for Sam. I felt like dazing off, like this thing was something good happening to me write now. It let go, and before I hit the ground Dean caught me. Sam walked in with a gun. I blacked out. 

     "No, Sam," Dean was saying. "I got her. Man, you need to get some rest." 

     "Fine Dean," Sam walked off, and I opened my eyes. Dean stared back at me, and my opinion of him changed. I don't know what it was. Maybe it was just the look in his eyes. I slid out of his arms. My hands were shaking, the feeling I had felt were very intense. More intense than anything I'd ever felt. It was like a drug. Something I could take over and over again. I wanted it, more now. Those feelings used to be a burden, but now it was a gift. I looked back up at Dean. He grabbed my hands, and stopped them from shaking. We sat there for a moment, still staring into each other's eyes. I saw pass the tough guy act. 

     "What's wrong?" I asked. 

     "It's nothing," he looked down at his hands, and he pulled them away from me. 

     "It's something," I smiled. I reached my hand up, and touched his face. He flinched, grabbing my hand. Regret, I started thinking, as he leaned in, and kissed me. 

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