You Found Me |Sam Winchester| [2015 Wattys Winner]

27. "Don't Get Too Attached."

27. "Don't Get Too Attached."

"Come on, Dak!" Dean pounded on the door. "You gotta let us in so we can stitch you up!"

"Yeah? Trust you with a big needle? Ha, no thanks!" I said. I had holed myself up in the bathroom.

It was the day immediately after the disaster in Missouri. It was the first thing on everyone's agenda to get me stitched up properly. Fortunately, I had caught wind of their plans early and made a break for it. Unfortunately, I hadn't been smart enough to run outside.

Now, here I was, trapped in the bathroom.

"We can do this the nice way, or the not-so-nice way. You choose." The pounding stopped, but I knew Dean was still on the other side.

"You know what? Hospital sounds pretty good right about now." I rubbed my arms as I sat on the toilet.

"You'd be ten times worse, Dak. Open the door before I break it."

"You buy what you break!" I heard Bobby shout.

My head went to the doorknob. I heard gears turning. My eyes widened. Shit. I ran right to the door, pressing my full weight against it. I would fight tooth and nail. Too bad this bathroom didn't have a window I could crawl out of.

"We gotta do it, Dak," Dean grunted. "You don't want an infection, I'm sure."

"I'm not trusting you with the job!" Ugh, I wish I had the strength to move the toilet against the door.

The clicking stopped momentarily. I waited with bated breath.

"All right, looks like we have to negotiate," I heard him grumble. "What's it gonna take for us to get you stitched?"

"Nothing." I kept my weight against the door.

"Stop acting like a kid, Dak. You're twenty-six, for God's sake!"

"I have never been a fan of needles, as you can obviously tell!" I shouted.

Dean groaned loudly. "Would you rather do this yourself?"

"Hell no. Are you taking stupid pills? I don't like needles."

"And you don't like to cooperate either." It was as though I could almost hear him thinking for the long minute of quiet. "All right. If I get Sam up here to help me, will you let me do it then?"

I bit my lip, in thought. Sam would ease my worries a little. Not that I suspected Dean would do anything to hurt me. Still, I wasn't sure where he and I stood on our relationship. According to Sam, Dean was fond of me. Nothing seemed to prove that. Yeah, sure, he wanted to patch me up, but that was probably in his nature. It wasn't something out of genuine concern for me.

"Maybe," I finally decided.

"Maybe? Come on, Dak!"

"Still can't get her to open the door?" I heard Sam on the other side.

"No, she's being a pain in the ass."

"Here, back off some. We're lucky there's no window in there. Kota? It's Sam."

"I can hear you both, you know," I said loudly.

"Listen, stop giving Dean a hard time. You know as well as we do that you want your injuries to heal. Now, to be honest, your leg needs it more. We'll have to look at your shoulder to see if that needs stitching too. But we can't do it unless you let us in."