Re: Dean/Lisa
Lisa didn't have time to reflect, not when a deal hand dug into the meat of her shoulder right before Dean managed to pry it off her. Panic and survival took hold of every cognitive process, and she bolted from where she'd been welded to the ground, glued to his side as if her life depended on it.
Because at this point, somewhere she knew it did.
Attached to his hand but still trailing behind because whatever this place was had invisible strings pulling back at her like anchors. Her energy was waning, thick and stagnant, this place wanted her to stay... greedy and ferocious, like the faces and hands that melted from the darkness reaching for her, reaching for them both. The harder and further they ran, the more of them closed in. And Lisa still had no idea where they were...
Until she saw the blue haze that lit the old station, as well as the swarms of souls that wanted their chance, clogging the way. They raised their arms and screamed, cackled, and roared. Lisa grit her teeth and fought the urge to collapse in terror as things grabbed at Dean's shirt and her hair. But somehow he pushed them through the door, through the hallway they had taken refuge in from the crazed throw-happy ghost... and there it was: her own body laying motionless and on death's door. With Dean's right beside it. The sight struck her hard as lightning.
Then it was all gone. Air sank into her lungs, her real lungs, flooding her system with overwhelming sensations as her nerve endings woke up with her.