He'd had a heart attack on a case a week ago after getting electrocuted. Dean knew he'd go some time but…not this young. The doctors told him he'd had a couple weeks to a month to live and Dean just felt sicker and sicker every day. Part of him was just ready to get it over with. Sammy had found some phony faith healer to help him get better, which is where the three of you were now, and Dean would've rather exploded than go to one of these crackpot places if it weren't for the pleading look in your eyes. Hell, if it weren't for you in general. You were the only thing he had in his life other than Sam and his dad that he needed, and lord help him, he'd never told you as much. Dean didn't want to die before telling you how much he freakin' loved you, but his tongue wouldn't spit it out no matter how hard he tried.

"This is so stupid. I just want to go back to the motel and sleep.I can't believe you brought me here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent!"

Dean murmurs, his hoodie pulled up to his chin as he leans onto you, not even bothering to stop himself from how much he needs your touch any more. Hey, if he was gonna die, he was gonna get his fill.

"Just relax."

You murmur quietly, eyes filled with worry for him as your fingers brush against his sweaty forehead.

"Mmm."

Dean leans into your touch more, his green eyes half open as the blind preacher begins his spiel.

"It is the Lord who does the healin' here, friends. The Lord, who guides me in choosin' who to heal, by helpin' me see into people's hearts."

"Yeah, or into their wallets."

Dean mutters under his breath weakly.

"You think so, young man?"

Dean stiffens as the preacher addresses him, shifting uncomfortably.

"Sorry."

"No no, don't be. Just watch what you say around a blind man, we got real sharp ears. What's your name, son?"

Dean clears his throat weakly before replying with his name. The preacher invites him up to the front and you help him stand, watching carefully as he walks to the front. He was trying so hard to act nonchalant but you could say how much he was hurting with every step and it killed you.

"Pray with me, friends."

The reverend says, touching Dean's cheek. Dean's eyes widen and he looks to you in the crowd of people, needing your reassurance.

"All right now…all right-"

The preacher mumbles as Dean faints, crumpling to the floor before sitting up with a gasp as color returns to his cheeks. You and Sam both go running through the commotion of cheers, Sam pressing his brother to say something and you gently checking his now-normal temperature. He was healed. Dean stiffens, his eyes wide on something behind you.

"My Persona…there's…"

"What, Dean?"

You murmur, letting him collect himself before he shakes his head and looks away.

"Just…something's wrong. There was a man…but now he's gone."