They were arguing loudly when I stepped out of the bathroom. Their voices continued to rise as they prowled around the small living space.
"You heard Bobby, we have only two more days to get to Stokes!"
"You didn't see her, Sammy. She's been carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey. I knew she looked rough, but those bastards weren't messing around. I don't know how she's staying on her feet– "
"I hear you, and I wish that we could stay and make sure she's ok but we did good. We got her out of that place and gave her somewhere to crash for a few days. We can even hole her up here and come back and check on her after we get Stokes if you want. She's tough, she'll manage just fine. But damn it, Dean, we've been after him for months! We can't let one girl get in the way of capturing Stokes, there are too many lives at stake-!"
"Sam, she's barely holding it together. What happens when something comes after us and finds her here instead? She's in no shape to defend herself! I can't live with that on my conscience, and neither can you." They shared a long look, heavy with words unspoken. "I'm not leaving her behind, Sammy."
"You think taking her with us is safer? A distraction is the last thing you need right now-"
"She was down there for three and a half months, Sam. If you saw what those fuckers did-"
"Hey!" They both stiffened at my sharp tone and turned toward me, angry testosterone filling the room. "No one is deciding where I go next but me. I appreciate you getting me out, but I'm not hanging around. I don't need your pity. Or your charity. As soon as I'm dressed I'm out of here."
"Like hell!" Dean exploded. "You're barely on your feet. No way am I letting you walk out that door!"
I bristled and took a step toward him, tightening my death grip on my towel. "Letting me? I am going to do whatever I damn well please. I am not part of your little gang here. I don't plan on holing up anywhere or playing hop-a-long for your little family adventures. I'm not your concern and you're certainly not mine."
His eyes shot sparks but he flat out ignored me. "Damn it, Sam, just look at her!"
Sam ran a hand over his face, eyeing me through his fingers. "But Stokes–"
"Fuck Stokes!" Dean growled menacingly and both Sam and I pulled back. "We're hunters. We sacrifice everything important to us so that people like her can stay safe. She's not safe on her own right now, Sam. That means she goes with us."
"Are the two of you going to take me against my will?" I snapped but they both ignored me. "I'm not fucking going."
Sam stretched to his full height and Dean had to tilt up his head to maintain his intense glare. "If we don't stop Stokes then he and Faulkner will keep hurting people just like her. We can't afford to mess this up."
"I'm not asking, Sam. She's coming." The moment stretched out uncomfortably as they just scowled at each other, as if an entire conversation were happening telepathically.
"Damn it, Dean! You sure picked a hell of a time to play hero." Sam shoved past him and yanked open the flimsy motel door. Sunlight and bird song beamed in contrast to the tension roiling in the room. "I'll talk to Bobby to see if we can take her there for a few days. But just for the record, I think this is a terrible idea."
"I'm not going with you!" I shouted as the door slammed behind him before turning threateningly toward Dean. Fuck the high and mighty bastards!
Dean got right up in my face. "You sure as hell are! You don't have to like it, and you don't have to be happy about it. But I –we are going to make sure you have somewhere safe to heal up. No matter how much you argue with me, you have to admit that you desperately need food, sleep, and stitches, and not in that order."
"So I'll go to the hospital. I don't need you two goons deciding to run my life." I tried to brush past him but he grabbed my arm. "Don't fucking touch me!"
"Sit down, Alex. I'm not trying to hurt you."
"Then get your hands off me!"
"No." The firmness of that single word brought me up short. "I seem to be the only one concerned that you're barely held together with adrenaline and sheer stubbornness, and I am going to make damn sure that you don't end up bleeding out all over this nasty motel carpet. Now stop arguing with me and sit the fuck down." The tension was thick as I stared into his eyes, gauging his level of seriousness. There wasn't an inch of give in his gaze. I slowly sank down to the bed. "Now was that so hard?" He raised an eyebrow.
I wanted to punch him. "Stitches. That's all I'm agreeing to."
He clenched his jaw and released my arm. "Fine. Stitches and then we'll talk." He grabbed a beer off the dresser and drained it before banging it back down and making me jump. "I'm trying to protect you, Alex. Why are you making it so damn difficult?"
I snorted. "I've never been protected a day in my life. I don't put anyone at my back unless I know without a doubt that they won't put a knife in it. I don't know you or your brother and I sure as hell don't trust either of you. So. Let's get me put back together and I'll be on my way."
He crossed to his duffel bag and pulled out a needle, thread, gauze and tape and I faced him stoically. "You're in bad shape, Alex. It's not like you just got cornered and got the shit beat out of you. You need to rest –"
"Quit lecturing me or I will walk out that door right now. I have survived this long without a nagging Winchester in my life and I certainly don't need one now."
He rolled his eyes at me. "Fine. Tilt." He gestured to my shoulder and I turned away from him to give him better access. There were four gouges stretched from the back of my shoulder all the way to the top of my breast, my shoulder laid open straight to the muscle and collarbone. He fell silent as he mopped up the blood that had escaped since my shower. I hadn't noticed but blood had been dripping steadily down my arm ever since I got out. It chilled me to realize I was so accustomed to the feel of blood on my skin that it hadn't even registered. Dean braced one hand at the base of my neck and adjusted the line of my shoulder. The sharp pinch of the first stitch forced a hissing breath out of me and his fingers along my neck curled gently into my jawline with a steady calming pressure. "Easy."
"Just get it done."
He grunted. It felt like hours later that he finally knotted the last neat line of tiny stitches in my shoulder. Clearly he had been telling the truth about having some experience patching Sam up. "I think you deserve a beer after that," he rumbled, tossing a wad of bloody gauze on the dresser. "Maybe it will help loosen you up."
"I'm plenty loose." I winced as I gave an experimental stretch to the stitches and they pulled tight and held.
Dean snorted. "Sure you are. You're all calm and relaxed and ready to express your undying gratitude for being rescued and for me sticking my neck out for you with Sam."
I stiffened. "You rescued me, I'm not arguing that. But I hardly think you saved my life."
His gaze turned shrewd. "If this is what three months looks like on you, what do you think they would've managed in six months? A year? We definitely saved your life, princess."
"So, now what? You think I owe you?" Damn it, but I did. Huge. A debt I had no intention of repaying. Getting out of their lives was the best thing I could do for them. Somehow in the cosmos, that would have to make us square.
"Don't think of it like that, think of it as never quite knowing when we will show back up in your life, but knowing for damn sure that we will." He winked as if I was supposed to be thrilled at the prospect.
Instead, a cold wash of anxiety rippled down my back. "Once I walk out that door I hope to God I never see either of you again."
He winced, pressing a hand to his chest in mock pain. "So harsh. But trouble seems to find you, and knowing that we may show up to save the day again should be something of a comfort. And when we do show up, a nice cold six pack and a home cooked meal should even out the score."
Fuck me if terror didn't grip me by the throat at just the thought of ever being back in that kind of trouble. I desperately struggled to gather up enough anger to loosen its hold. "Screw that. I don't owe you anything, Dean Winchester."
"Hey, no reason to get feisty—" He straightened out of his slouch.
I let the anger fill me with a flush of heat. "Fuck you Winchester boys and your high and mighty opinions of yourselves. A few more days and I would've figured out the counter-curse on the cuffs and gotten myself out. Don't expect me to go falling at your feet in gratitude." I would survive without any more stitches. I just needed some clothes and I could get the hell out of here.
He shifted to a defensive stance. "Hey now, calm down, it was just a joke."
He was starting to get irritated? Screw him. I was getting angrier by the second and welcomed the fact that it was beginning to burn through the fear. Fuck clothes. I was blowing this popsicle stand. I shoved past him and managed a handful of steps before he flung an arm around my waist and jerked me to a halt. I slammed an elbow back into his stomach and drew forth an angry grunt but he just wrapped his other arm around me. "Calm down, Alex, you're not going anywhere. It's not safe." I kicked out at him and he hauled me up and dropped me on the bed beside us. I scrambled to roll over and kicked out at him again.
"Easy, Alex, you're bleeding – Easy! Hey! Listen to me!" Dean rumbled and pinned me down.
His weight was suffocating, his broad shoulders blocking out the light in the room. Blood rushed to my head and the anger disappeared, leaving desolate terror. I bucked into him, trying to shift his weight but he just shifted his legs to pin me down more. I frantically tried to get some air, to move beneath him to ease up the crushing weight on my ribs but he just pressed down harder. I could see his mouth moving but no noise reached me over the roaring in my ears. I struggled and gasped at him, "You bastard! I'm not afraid of you!" My vision started blackening and I fought it, knowing if I gave in I could end up right back where I started, tied to a chair with no chance in hell of defending myself from whatever he chose to do to me.
"Alex, damn it, relax! You're safe!" His weight left me and blinding white light and noise came roaring back to me in a rush.
I gasped as air punched into my tight lungs and I bent over the side of the bed, grasping at the garbage can and pulling it under me just in time to lose what little I had in my stomach. Blood pounded in my temples and stomach acid burned coming back up. The spasms finally eased and I pushed myself up onto my knees, arms shaking. I opened my eyes to find Dean hovering beside me and I was unable to tell by his stance if he was retreating or preparing to come at me again.
