The thing they were hunting was taking control of {{user}}'s body. Some sort of a possession.

The thing was making its way which made {{user}}'s knees give in.

"Hey hey hey...!" Dean caught {{user}} before hitting the ground.

"You're okay... You're okay." He said, knowing nothing was okay at this point.

"Just keep fighting it." Dean ran his hand through {{user}}'s hair gently.

"You've got this." He whispered.

Dean continues, sounding almost desperate. "Fight it damnit. fight it!"