Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters.
A/N: Thank you for reading!
Krissy stood frozen at the mirror, assessing the damage. Hospital? Never. Do-gooders asking too many questions, find re-healed bones, scars, wanting "more information"… Nope. Her rule is No. Hospitals. Ever.
She had a screaming headache from the still-bleeding gash on the left side of her head. Cuts and bruises covered her body, blooming before her eyes like black roses on her porcelain skin. Her lip was split – THAT would leave a mark. Her ankle was throbbing, sending shooting pain up to her eyeballs. But all of this was nothing compared to the damage done to her shoulder and collar bone. There was other pain as well, but it was like her mind wouldn't quite… reach there. Her arm hung limply and her reflection looked crooked.
"Krissy let's go," Sam called to her from the living room. "Dean's in the car and you need to move." She steeled her brown eyes and lurched out to her sparsely furnished living room. "I'm not going anywhere, Sam. This is my place and my rules are never any hospitals – you know that. I'll be fine. I can take care of myself." Sam stared at her with a surprised look, eyes narrowing as he slowly said. "Yeah, Gus, I can see what an outstanding job you're doing at that. Don't make this hard. You aren't thinking straight. You're hurt and scared and I get it…" Krissy interrupted him sharply. "Scared? I don't remember even asking you to be here. I don't need you or your dork of a brother to come snooping around me… you interfering"… she searched for the right word … "Winchester!" Her voiced has escalated to a high pitched squeal. Sam tried to hide a quick smile as he realized calling him a Winchester had been her way of criticizing him.
Dean's broad shoulders filled the doorway. "Let's go champ." He ordered. Same gave Dean the "We got trouble" look. Krissy met Deans green-eyed stare straight on. He couldn't help but think of the balls it took to do that. Shit, he knew plenty of grown men that couldn't meet his gaze. There she was, five feet nothing, blasting away at him. "No hospital," was all she said. Sam was at her side in one stride. As he held her arm to support her, he looked down into her one good eye and tried the soft approach. "You have to, Krissy. Trust us, we'll make up a story. You're really hurt and you're most likely bleeding internally. You have broken bones. You need stitches." As if this settled it, he carefully placed his arm around her waist and muttered "Let's go, kiddo". Krissy turned away from him, almost falling before Dean jumped forward to catch her. "Dean," she said, using her most well-practiced vulnerable girl voice, "Just call Cas, ok? You can do that. He'll fly in, zap me, and I'll be good as new. You told me he's done it for you and Sam lots of times." Dean sighed, frustrated. He threw a look to Sammy in their creepy unspoken language. Sam nodded, looking grim. Gone was his soft eye approach now. "No can do, chickie," Dean replied. "Cas is recharging off grid. No pop in's, no healings, no fly-by's, only Netflix until he's back at one hundred." He and Sam both reached for her at the same time. She would be going to the hospital with her "brothers" one way or the other. "I told you not to make this hard," Sam whispered to her. She didn't stand a chance. Her "brothers" lifted her up easily, supporting her rear end as if in a floating chair and headed toward the front door. They felt her whole body tense under their hold. "Ok, ok, hold on," she said. "Wait," she pleaded. Very unlike Krissy to plead. They stopped and looked down at her, not unkindly. "Listen to me, guys. There will be too many people! Questions, forms, more questions. They could make me do things, make things happen to me… I'm not eighteen," she finished, beginning to unravel. "I'll do whatever you want just don't make me do this. Please," she added. A tear fell from her open eye that she tried to shake away, frustrated. Sam reached over and wiped it off her face. He turned her face to meet his. "Okay, Gus, here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna plant your ass over on that couch while Dean and I figure this out. I'll grab you some water and you'll sit there until we come back in to tell you how this plays." Krissy was silent. She was not used to this new Sam. He was always the nice one. Sam was the one who came for her when her dad first went missing, even though he was batshit crazy with grief over losing Bobby. Sam came when she lost the others. Most of all she could always count on getting her own way with him. Or did. Before this new improved Sam 2.0 arrived. She didn't think she was gonna like this guy. He was so much less – pliable was the word. Still, he didn't seem angry, only firm in what he said. She let them guide her to the couch and bring her a drink. "Do not move from this spot," Dean stated. "But what if I have to…" she began. "Stay there and figure it out," he said pointedly. "Every time you move you're doing more damage to yourself." Sam came over with a towel torn into strips. "Hold this here," he said, placing her hand over it on her gashed head. "Press down. We'll be right back," he promised. "Hey! This was a brand new towel Sam," she yelled at his tall form disappearing through the door behind his brother. "I paid good mony for this towel!"
