Rogue (Supernatural) [Rogue Trilogy] {1}

Epilogue

Epilogue

I have never been to Heaven, or Hell.

I'm very confused by my surroundings when I open my eyes. I'm not in a comfy bed, I'm actually on a cold tile flooring. Nothing hurts, though that's not right. I know I should be hurting. I look down at my outfit. I'm garbed in all white, not a spot of red anywhere to be seen.

As I blink the goop away, I begin to have a cold sensation run through me. This looks like a hospital hallway. An empty one, but one nevertheless. I take my time to get on my feet. I do a full three-sixty. No staff, no patients, just open doorways and a silent hallway. Must be nighttime, I think.

Inhaling through my nose, I pad down the hall, peeking into the rooms. On the fifth room, I stop.

Something's beginning to make sense. Why I landed out in a hospital hallway instead of the bed my body is laying in.

There's very dim lighting in the room, the heart monitor beeps slowly. I watch in fright as I step into the room. I look horrible, maybe just as bad as Dean had. Where is he? But he...died there, at the warehouse. Then I remember: he's still in the Impala, hopefully not discovered by prying eyes. Sam wouldn't have taken him inside since there was no chance of revival. I guess there is for me.

But judging by my comatose state on the bed, the chance seems to be slipping.

I take my slow time, my eyes don't leave my body. The last thing I remember is Dean dying in Sam's arms, and then him trying to juggle carrying Dean and making sure I stayed alive and awake. I remember Sam's near two car accidents while he kept telling me to stay alive. I remember him barging into the hospital, screaming for help, carrying my body in with him. I remember his desperate attempts to follow me and the nurses back, but they'd stopped him.

I watch the monitor, watch the green lines spike with my faint heartbeat. I'm still hanging on. Barely. I swallow and touch my hand. I pull back once I see my fingers slip through. Well, nobody ever said trying to recover like this is easy. Nothing's ever easy when you're a Winchester anyway. That's something I've learned since I was old enough to understand.

I flinch and turn my head at the sound of a shuffle. Sam's still hanging around. I guess between me and Dean, he'd rather be near his older sister who's still kicking than his older brother whose long dead.

"Oh, Sammy," I whisper. "I'm so sorry. I should have stayed with you. This would only be half as bad if I had just stayed..." I bite my lip. "Damn Dean and his protective nature. This would have ended differently if he'd just let us help." I run a hand through my hair. "And now look what's happened. He's gone, and I'm on the fence."

"You don't have to be."

I spin around. "Who the hell are you?"

This guy can't look much older than me. He's dressed fairly well, and it makes me think he's from the FBI or CIA or something. But that's not possible if I'm out of my body.

"Easy." He puts his hands out. "I've come to help you."

"I don't need help." I cross my arms.

"You can't go back." He nods towards my body.

"So, this is real? This isn't some coma-induced thinking?"

"No, no coma. You never had the chance to have one."

"Then what do you call this?" I gesture to my body, and the heart monitor.