Lazarus Rising- Part 1

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Right After Dean's Death

"Breathe, Y/N, you have to breathe," Sam said, but you barely heard him. The only thing on your mind was Dean and how he died because of you. Anything Sam said went in through one ear and out the other. After burying Dean, you went back to the motel room, but no amount of distance you put yourself between you and Dean's grave, it all hurt the same. The room was spinning, and you wanted to throw up, but you couldn't find the energy to even do that.

"No!" you yelled and pushed Sam away. A rush of air left your lungs, and you tried to take a deep breath to get it back, but your panic attack wouldn't allow it. The only person who could make those go away was dead. Magic started to pour out of your body and shook the entire room. Pictures fell off the wall and crashed to the ground, the drawers in the dresser fell open, and the TV crashed to the ground.

"Y/N, you have to calm down. You are going to pass out if you keep breathing like that," your dad said, reaching out to help you, but you quickly moved away. Missing a step, you started to tumble to the ground, so you grabbed the end of the dresser to stop it. However, your hand slipped, and you ended up falling to the ground either way. Scrambling to find something to support you, your hand contacted the lamp on top. As soon as you touched it, the lamp itself exploded, sending shards of glass and metal across the room. Shielding yourself from the pieces, you struggled to breathe.

Tears fell from your eyes like waterfalls as you looked at Sam and your dad. With your head pounding, you tried to get enough oxygen inside, but your body was shutting down. Nothing was working, nothing could make this better. This was one of your worst panic attacks you've ever had, and it sucked.

"Y/N, please, take deep breaths," Sam tried again.

"No! I can't! I can't, I can't," you cried, sinking further into the ground. Sobbing loudly, you looked at the other two most important men in your life. It wasn't really fair to them since they lost Dean too, but you couldn't find it in yourself to console them. "Make it stop. Please, it hurts so bad."

Sam immediately crouched by your side and brought you in his arms. He wasn't Dean, but you accepted his attempt to comfort you. Sobbing into his chest, you gripped his shirt tightly, and even though he was rubbing your back, it did very little to soothe you. The room slowly stopped shaking, but you had a feeling this was only the beginning. Nothing would be the same, and you didn't know if it would ever get better.

"Please make it go away. It hurts so bad," you sobbed.

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2 Months After Dean's Death

Hunting was part of the past now. Life was starting to look meaningless which is why you had to stay away from it all. Leaving Sam was one of the hardest things you ever had to do since he was in pain almost as much as you were. Sam was too sad to stop hunting, saying that he needed to busy his mind which is why he left, separating himself from you. For the past two months, you have been staying at your father's house wishing you were dead. Sam promised to call every so often, but you haven't heard a word from him since he left.

Not knowing how he was doing or where he was, you kept living your life without Dean in it. It was hard to find things you cared about these days, shutting everyone out which included your dad. He hated seeing you in so much pain, but it is what it is. He tried to help you in any way he could, but you became so numb from the pain, you refused to eve see him. There was a tiny cage you were trapped in, and it didn't matter how good the outside looked, you would never leave it.

Most days, if not all, were spent in the junkyard, working on the cars out there. Sam thought it would be best to leave you with Dean's car so you could somehow feel closer to him. There wasn't a day that went by that you didn't spend time working or being inside her. When you felt yourself breaking down, you spent the night in there and drowned in all the memories. She became your new home despite your other one being less than a few yards away.

With each day that passed, your magic seemed to be getting worse. It was like whatever it was strapped down two got loose, letting it do whatever it wanted. A part of you thought that Dean was your anchor since this started happening once he died. Over the last two months, you've come to learn a lot about who you were, what your magic did, and how to correctly use it. Using the junk cars for practice, you didn't even bat an eye about them getting ruined.

Yelling, you threw a ball of magic at one of the cars, watching as it dented upon impact. Screaming once more, you threw yet another ball in the same spot. The more magic you used, the more your nose would bleed. It was like you were wasting your energy away, but for what? It was the only thing that was keeping you sane. Getting ready to throw another ball, you felt something slip from your pocket. The sun hit the object just right, shining the light in your eyes. Looking down, you noticed Dean's amulet that Sam gave to him lying in the dirt.

Getting tears, you leaned down and picked it up. The sun reflected off Dean's ring you also took from him. These small accessories made you feel like he was still with you even though you knew he was many miles below you. The ring was too big for you, even on your thumb where it rested. It didn't cross your mind that you were actually crying until you tasted the salt on your lips. Letting out a sob, you could feel your chest start to tighten meaning another panic attack was heading straight to you.

The signs were getting easier to spot when you knew an attack was coming on, but it was getting harder to make them go away. The ground began to shake, and as you fought to catch your breath, the windows on some of the cars shattered. Panicking, you looked around at the mess you were unintentionally creating.

"No... Go away," you whispered to your panic, but it didn't listen. It hit you like a tidal wave, knocking you to your feet. Scrambling to grip something, when your hand connected with a car door handle, the whole side caved in due to your magic. Quickly backing away from it, you cried since you didn't know what to do with yourself anymore. Once your back hit something, you looked up to see another car. Thankfully, this one didn't cave in at the first touch.

"Dean, I need you," you gasped for breath, black spots appearing in your vision. Looking around for something, anything to help, you suddenly remembered a trick on how to get rid of them yourself.

"Sweetheart, you can do this. How about this, tell me 5 things you can see. What are 5 things you can see in this room?"

Remembering that Dean told you this when Henricksen locked you in a jail cell, you tried to do as he said before you passed out from dehydration and oxygen deprivation. There has been countless time when you've done that, but you were sick and tired of feeling this way. Looking around, you tried to count 5 things that you could clearly see.

"The amulet in my hand... the cars... my dad's house... the Impala... me."

"Great, what are 4 things you can hear?"

Closing your eyes, you tried to heighten your other senses to focus on the sounds around you.

"The wind, birds chirping, the scrape of my feet on the ground, my voice," you opened your eyes to find it easier to breathe, but you needed to keep going.

"That's good. You're doing so well, sweetheart. Now, what are 3 things you can smell?"

"The dirt, my sweat, the blood in my nose."

"We're almost done, okay? What are 2 things you can touch?"

Sliding your hands through the dirt, you didn't mind that they were getting dirty.

"The rocks on the ground, your ring on my finger," your voice cracked at the end.

"Okay, now I need you to take one big, deep breath for me. Can you do that?"

Closing your eyes, you took one deep breath, glad to know you were able to get enough oxygen in your lungs. Pulling your knees to our chest, you buried your head between them and cried. Dean should be here with you instead of down below.

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