“Y/N!” Dean’s voice rang out through the night but it barely registered in your brain. All you could hear was a ringing in your ears. You were cold and assumed you were losing blood, a lot of it. Pain ripped through your lower body as you tried to push yourself into a sitting position, but you couldn’t get your arms to hold your weight; both collapsed underneath you.
Warm hands cupped your face, but you couldn’t will your eyes to open. You knew it was Dean, his scent filling your nostrils, mixed with the coppery smell of your blood. “Sweetheart, come on, open your eyes, Y/N.”
“Dean, I love you,” you whispered, too tired to talk.
“Don’t you do that. Don’t you say goodbye! Sam!” Your limbs felt heavy, but Dean scooped you up in his arms like you weighed nothing.