Every movement hurts, every single pump of my legs is like a jagged knife in the side, in the back, in my head, but I have to keep moving. It’s the only thing I know.
Don’t stop. Keep moving!
The trees are too thick, too close and even with the snow coating the ground, there’s not enough light. The burn in my chest only increases when I try to think of where I saw him last, think of the last thing he said, but still, I keep moving, keep running.
The scent of pine and blood is thick and suffocating. The pain, if it wasn’t so bad, so… everywhere then maybe I could remember, maybe I could think straight. But the only way to pinpoint it would be to stop and look, examine where the worst tears in my clothes were. It hurts to breathe, maybe slowing down would be a good idea. A chance to catch my breath.
GO, y/n! Don’t stop!
“Dean?!” I scream at the top of my lungs, no longer afraid of what else could hear me as long as he did too. Nothing but the sound of my rapid, shaky breaths, the swack of the branches beating me, and the muffled crack of the ones I kick and crush underfoot. “SAM!”
There’s a cold that has seeped so deeply, it’s invaded my bones but I’m not numb yet. That is good. Numb is bad.
Every inch of me aches but I keep running, ignoring the branches and sharp roots that rip and tear at my legs and feet. If only there was some sign of something to actually head towards. The moon filtering through the snow heavy pine branches doesn’t give off much and the white powder that used to light up an entire area didn’t seem to be helping at all tonight.
My stomach twists again, sharp and painful. I don’t know where I am, I don’t know where they are, but I should. I should be with them.
A voice was calling but it was so far away. Dean. It was Dean.