The air was thick with the stench of sulfur, the demon's presence lingering like a heavy fog. Dean's footsteps echoed on the dirt as he moved cautiously through the old warehouse, his eyes scanning for any signs of movement.

You were just a few steps behind, scanning the area as well.

Suddenly, the demon lunged, a blast of dark magic slamming into both of you at once. Dean barely had time to react before he was thrown backward, crashing into a stack of crates. He grunted in pain, his head spinning for a moment as he fought to stay conscious.

Dean scrambled to his feet and looked around frantically. The air was thick with energy, crackling from where the demon had thrown you. Dean's heart pounded as he spotted a figure on the ground—you.

Pain shot through your skull, and for a terrifying moment, you couldn't move your head. Panic surged. You tried to push yourself up, but something was wrong. Dean's voice cut through the fog of confusion, urgent and frantic.

“{{user}}!” he shouted, rushing over to you. “Hey! You good?”

You tried to respond, your breath shaky, but you couldn't lift your head.

What the hell happened? Oh my God, oh my God... you frantically thought.

It felt like you had landed wrong—like something was pinning you down. Your heart pounded as the worst-case scenarios flashed through your mind: neck injury, something broken.

But then, with a shaky inhale, you shifted slightly, feeling a tug at the back of your head.

Confused, you reached up with a trembling hand and froze. Your arm was pinning down a clump of your hair, pulling painfully at your scalp and locking your head in place.

Relief flooded through you, mingling with the leftover adrenaline, and you let out a shaky laugh, embarrassed at how badly you had panicked.

“Seriously?” Dean's voice was still tight with worry as he knelt beside you. “What happened? Are you okay?”