Disclaimer-I don't, regrettably, own Supernatural or any of the characters in this story that happen to appear in said show. They belong to Eric Kripke and co…lucky bastard…Chapter 1-Aftermath
The edges of his vision were going white, and Dean was hoping that meant he'd pass out soon. Anything would be batter than this pain…it was like every single time he'd felt pain in his life put together wouldn't equal this.
His line of sight tunneled until Ricky was the only thing he could see, and he was aware he was making noises, just couldn't hear them properly. Barely-just barely-he heard the gunshot, and the pain lessened. Not a lot, but even the little it did was worlds better than just the few moments before.
Suddenly there was a face swimming in his vision, but he couldn't make it out. He hoped to god it wasn't Ricky, because there was no way in hell his body could take the physical strain of that agony again.
But no…now his vision was clearing, and the pain was subsiding fairly quickly to a discomfort. It was Sam, finally moving after being knocked out before.
"Dean…hey Dean, you okay?" He would've answered when Sam helped him sit, only that gave him a clear view of Bela.
It took what seemed like an age to reach her, when she was only a yard away from him at most. When he dropped to his knees beside her, he was afforded a view of her ashen face. As soon as he touched her, any semblance of self resolve she had left seemed to crumble, and she collapsed into his arms, trembling.
The Colt fell like a dead weight at his side, heavily clunking to the floor.
The words he was whispering had lost meaning long ago, but his voice was soothing. It created some eerie sense of calm not unlike the eye of a hurricane for Bela. She could scarcely comprehend what had happened, emotions and thoughts clouding her senses and leaving her unable to do anything but cling on to Dean for dear life.
He hefted her up easily, motioning for Sam to grab the Colt as he did so. Sam picked it up wordlessly, and Bela soon discovered it made her sick to look at it for too long. They made it out to the Impala before anyone said anything.
Dean tossed Sam the keys and deftly slid into the back seat, resting his back against the door and giving Bela and himself enough room.
"Where are we going, Dean?" Sam slid behind the wheel, adjusting the seat.
"Queens." Sam hesitated before nodding. Everything in his better judgement was telling him not to go, just to find some backwoods town and hole up until the smoke had cleared, but arguing with Dean wasn't going to do anyone any good.
Two hours later, they were almost back at her house and Bela hadn't said a word. She hadn't let go of Dean, and the tears were still glistening on her cheeks. He held her tightly to him, unwilling to allow her to even think that she might have to get through this on her own.
Bela looked out of the window at the lights blurring past. Everything had happened so fast…
She'd felt 17 again, every shock reverberating through her tenfold, everything taking place at an agonizingly slow speed.
Had she stopped to think, she may have realized that she had no family left, but the only thing going through her head, over and over again, was that she'd killed them.