Heaven's Child ≫ SPN

26. Twilight Zone

"Hand me the scissors please." The voice waited while a metallic clang sounded and then, "Thank you."

My brain, as usual, made my head feel like it was trying to break free from my skull. My eyes could barely open, and when they did they were tearing up. I felt the stickiness of the sweat on my neck and then on my face until that dissolved into a much larger overwhelming wave of pain emitting from my left side. I couldn't place where I was hurt so bad—it was like my entire left side was numbed.

"Where am I?" I groaned, fighting off the stiffness of my body and the ache in my head. I slowly dragged my head across the wall against my back until I was in an upright position. The light was too bright for me to open my eyes completely.

"In a prison cell," a calm, smooth voice returned. I blinked a few more times before the blurry figures became clearer. It was a man with silver hair wearing a white coat accompanied by young nurse. The doctor was on a stool to my left, the nurse standing beside him.

I closed my eyes again. "What'd you do to get you guys locked up?"

"Try to help you," He sighed tiredly. "We stitched you up. But I can't really fix anything else. And I can't give you any medication because I'd need your file for that and it looks like you pissed off a lot of people."

"Thank you. I'd shake your hand but..." I raised my right hand with the sound of small clinks of my cuffs against the metal seat.

"How's she doing?" We were interrupted by a loud, snappy voice. My eyes were still squinted, but I lazily tilted my head to be able to see who it was through the many bars that rounded me.

"She suffers from a minor concussion, a small laceration above her eye, cuts and bruises all about, her arm is barely functional, I sewed it up as much as I could for the time being, her ankle is sprained and there's severe bruising on her right side and stomach. It could be a few broken ribs, it could be internal bleeding. Of course, I couldn't possibly figure it out here in this box," there was an edge to his tone. "I'd have to cut her open to find out if she's okay."

My wide eyes turned to the doctor. "No, no."

The snappy cop's smug glance dragged from me to the doctor. "If you cut her open doc, the NYPD wouldn't be too pleased to come all this way for a corpse. They want her alive."

The doctor glared at the too-young cop for a second, as if debating in his head. Finally, he dropped his calm act and shouted, "She's a patient—possibly a dying patient. I need to get her to the hospital, Rick. What is wrong with you?"

"She's not a patient, she's a criminal. And that's Sheriff Rick to you."

"Until your dad comes back," the nurse suddenly snapped. Rick turned a few shades of pink at her comment and only glared back.

I turned to her with an impressed smile, but she was staring right back at Rick.

She wasn't finished. "What do you think your dad will do when he finds out about your little dictatorship tirade?"

"She's right, Rick. You're breaking the law, son. You're not about that."

It fell quiet for a few seconds, the faint hum of the other cops working in the office lingering around us.

"If I were you, I'd listen to them." I told him honestly.

Rick rolled his eyes but made eye contact with no one. "Im sure my father would be proud when he finds out that I stopped the disease that's been killing innocent children in our town. I'm doing my job, and I'm doing a great job. If you're done with yours, doc, you know the way out." He nodded at a cop standing by. "Give them ten more minutes officer, then make sure they're out of here."