"Aren't we all Damaged?"
Being a Hybrid has its perks, but it also has its disadvantages. Abigael had been on both ends of those sticks, she's been on them for a while. But there was a fraction in the Demon world that would want her dead and another...
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The Winchesters and I managed to get back to their motel room, we looked worse for wear. Sam was on one of the beds, using a thread and needle to pierce his skin to sew up his wound. Dean was in the bathroom, his left shoulder was dislocated, and he had various cuts and bruises on him. I, on the other hand, would normally have healed by now, but I was playing 'Mortal'. There was a deep gash on my left cheek bone, from a piece of glass shredding through the skin, though it didn't need stitches, it was bleeding. I also had a few cuts on my legs, as the glass had torn through the fabric of my jeans.
"I think I broke a rib," I clutched my left hand to the right side of my body, wincing every so slight. I slowly shrugged off the leather jacket, and lifted the top from my torso, once again wincing at the action. I managed to sling the top off, and to the ground with my jacket. I was left topless, but the black bra kept me warm. I limped slightly over to the length sink Dean was at, spitting out a mouthful of blood. He saw me incoming, and took a few steps to the right, as he allowed me to see myself in the mirror that hung above the sink. I raised my right arm up, and leaned back slightly, seeing the mixture of purples and black on my skin.
"That looks bad," Dean announces, eyeing up the bruise. I lowered my arm carefully back down, and turned my head to him.
"No shit," I spoke with a clenched jaw, finding his statement pointless as it didn't help me. "It seems I can't stay away from danger when I'm with you two," I cock my head over to Sam for a moment as he continues to work on himself. I moved out of the way for Dean to grab a glass and swirl his mouth out, before splitting it into the sink.
"Are you almost done?" Dean asks, but Sam groans for a moment as he is threading the thread through his skin.
"I'm going as fast as I can," he replies, his voice low as he was focusing on stitching himself up.
"Good, 'cause you know I got a dislocated shoulder over here," Dean walks away from the sink, and into the room.
"Yeah. I'll pop it back when I'm finished," Sam states, but I see Dean grab a bottle of wine from the desk, and swing it back as he begins to down it.
"Let me pop it back in," I was serious in my tone, as I wandered over to Dean, who dropped the bottle from his mouth to stare at me, he was trying his best not to lower his gaze to my boobs.
"Give me that," Sam said before he had a chance too. I turned my body to the side, getting both Winchesters into my view. Sam was waving his hand out, but Dean was trumped for a moment on what he was gesturing too. But he finally got it and took a step forward, his arm extending to give his brother the bottle of wine. Sam poured the red liquid onto his wound, and began to groan, gritting his teeth, as he was trying not to scream like a little bitch.
"So, you lost the magic knife, huh?" Dean made conversation, but he was more worried about the demon killing knife they had required.
"Yeah, saving your ass," Sam retorted. "Who the hell was that Demon?" Sam asks wildly, not knowing who he was. But I saw the glimpse of Dean's expression, and it was the expression of recognition, meaning he knew who the Demon was.
