Hell's Angel (A Supernatural Fanfiction) {2}

Chapter 17

Libby awoke to someone pushing her off of the bed. She let out a small scream before landing on the floor with a loud thud! and a groan. Her bare legs were still entangled in the soft, fluffy, brown blanket that she was sharing with Sam; now she was sharing it with the hard floor. Libby could hear Sam's hand feeling around her side of the bed for her body, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion when he didn't feel her. His hazel eyes fluttered open and he sat up, shirtless, to see her leg on the bed but the rest of her on the floor. "Libby?" he questioned groggily, leaning over to see his girlfriend on the floor. She lifted her head up and sent him a sharp glare before letting it fall back to the floor, the blanket comforting the hit. "Why are you on the floor?"

"Because you pushed me off in your sleep. Thanks." In all honestly, Libby was grateful that Sam had woken her up. Her body was coated in a layer of cold sweat; the sweat that you accumulate from horrific nightmares. She needed to wake up otherwise she'd continue to see the same thing over and over. The one thing she feared; her death. After witnessing it with Chuck, it had been trapped in her mind. Every time she closed her piercing green eyes she'd see herself with the hollow cheeks and skin that seemed to pin itself to her bones, black and red bulging veins lining her flesh. It was an ugly sight, and the amount of blood only made it worse.

"I'm sorry," Sam apologized, a look of sympathy taking over his sick face. Libby untangled herself from the blankets and stood up, pulling the fluffy fabric back into the bed with her. It was only three in the morning which gave her at least another hour and a half to sleep before Dean came barging in. Libby cuddled up into Sam's side, smiling slightly at the feeling of his lips on her forehead. But he frowned when he felt the sweat on her body. "Were you having another nightmare? Again?"

"What? No," Libby lied, never meeting Sam's gaze. He sent her a disapproving look and she let out a sigh of defeat. "Maybe." He narrowed his eyes. "Yes," she murmured. Sam pulled her closer to him, stroking her hair.

"What was it about?" She shrugged. "Same one?"

"Yeah," she whispered, nodding. Sam leaned back, looking into her eyes. She didn't show the fear that it gave her, but Sam knew it was there. If anyone knew Libby then it was him.

"Seriously, Libs. What's this dream that has you waking up in cold sweats? You even screamed a couple of times but I didn't wake you up." Libby frowned. She had screamed? Her nightmares were keeping Sam from getting the sleep that he desperately needed. The Trials only made him worse with each passing day, and the Hunters were putting themselves under so much stress to try and figure out the third Trial.

"It's nothing, Sam. Just go back to sleep," Libby snapped. Normally Sam would be mad or offended that Libby snapped at him, but instead he shook his head and stood--well, laid--his ground.

"No, Libby. This is seriously bothering you," he argued. She sighed. "What's going on? Is there something you're not telling me?" She had to come up with a lie and fast. She couldn't break her word with Chuck. She needed to prove herself to him and telling Sam what Chuck wanted to be kept secret wasn't the way to do that. So she said the first thing that came to mind:

"I didn't just heal overnight." Sam furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "I-I managed to project myself into the Cage to get some answers." His eyes widened and he stared at her in disbelief.

"Libby-"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, Sam, but there were things I needed to know if I was gonna die." He shook his head but gestured for her to continue. "Michael not only healed me, he showed me the future. Sam, I saw myself die. I was still sick and I sacrificed myself to save you. It was so horrific and-" Tears started to fall from Libby's eyes as she thought back to the scene that Chuck had showed her. Every time she thought about it she wanted to cry.