You sold your soul in exchange for your mothers life.... Now Crowley saves a special spot for you in hell as his puppet. It's your 3rd year living in the hellhole, cleaning after innocent souls are tortured and following orders from the king himself...
You looked around the room wondering if you should take anything. Everything in the room was given to you by Crowley so there wasn't anything you truly cared about. You spotted the record player seating in the table by your armchair. "I'll miss you. But you were given to me by Crowley, so I'm sorry, but I'm gonna have to leave you." You sighed and just thought for a moment.
How am I supposed to leave this place? There are demons roaming the entire castle.
"Well, it's now or never." You said determined. There isn't really a time where demons aren't around, so I have to leave right now.
You walked to your door and took a deep breath. Your hand griping the doorknob."I can do this." You told yourself as you stared at your hand.
You breathed out and turned the handle. "Let's go." _________________________
It had been a couple hours since Dean had left the gas station and started walking, he had walked many miles and still hadn't seen a road sign. "This is stupid! Am I really in the middle of nowhere?! WHERE AM I?!
The sun is getting really hot and I ran out of water already. "ANOTHER GAS STATION WOULD BE NICE."
Dean kept walking for what seemed like an eternity to him, but eventually, he came across another gas station that was luckily, closed as well.
Seriously what's up with all the closed gas stations?
He broke in like he had in the previous one and looked around to make sure the coast was clear. As soon as he knew he was safe, he made his way straight to the bathroom. He took his backpack off and set it down on the bathroom floor with a huff. He reached for the right faucet lever and allowed the cold water to run for a couple seconds before filling his two hands with water and splashing it over his warm, sweaty face. He breathed out in relieve and filled his hand with water and slurped it into his mouth. Dean felt refreshed as he continued to breathe out and cool down. He grabbed the edges of the sink with both hands and leaned onto the sink, breathing out one more time before looking up at his reflection in the mirror.
He was dirty and sweaty from digging himself out of his grave and walking dozens of kilometers. He took of his flannel and damped his hands in the water. He placed his wet hand on the back of his neck, making his t-shirt lift up slightly on the side of the arm he raised to reach his neck.
As the shirt lifted he noticed a scar on his left shoulder. Confused, he raised up his sleeve with his other hand and turned his left shoulder to get a better look.
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There was a scar in the shape of a hand planted in the middle of his shoulder, red and bulky.
Dean looked at it in amusement and confusion. It didn't hurt him one bit. He wouldn't had noticed it if it wasn't for his shirt lifting up and revealing it.
He checked the rest of his body for scars or bruises, including his stomach for the hellhound scratches he had received before being sent to hell. Not a single scar on his body besides the hand on his left shoulder.
Dean had a flashback of seating in your bed, drinking a beer and surfing on the internet on your computer for something to keep him entertained until you got back, when all of a sudden there was a bright light that filled up your entire room and blinded Dean. After that he had woken up in the grave underground.
Dean rolled down his sleeve and put his flannel back on. I'll have to figure out what that is later. I need to find Sam and Bobby first.
