Stranger

Chapter 33

"Where is she?"

"Room 115, but sir, just hold on a minute," the doctor hops up from behind the counter, "you have to stay—"

"No—"

"She's going to be fine, but we're not allowing anyone in the room just yet—"

Marcel yanks his arm away from the doctor, who is yanking on his coat. "That's my sister, dammit, I don't give a damn who you're not letting in." He pushes the door open. "Nevaeh," he whispers.

There's a needle in one arm, and a cast on the other. His baby sister. She slowly turns her head, her lips downturned. "Marcel?" She asks drowsily.

He kneels beside the bed. He doesn't like seeing her like this at all. "Hey, baby girl, how are you feeling?"

She frowns for a moment, in awe. Oh they doped her up, real bad. Is she seeing things? She narrows her eyes. He could be a demon.

"They doped me up, man," she snorts. "I can't feel my arms." She opens and closes her mouth. Is he really here? She shrugs. Doesn't matter. She's talking to him. That's all that matters. and then her eyes widen. "Where are they? Are they okay?"

He smiles, and grabs her hand. "Sam's fine. He's in the room with Dean right now." Marcel glances off to the side.

She frowns. Oh, God. Please, no. "And Dean?"

Marcel shakes his head. "We don't know yet. He lost a lot of blood."

Nevaeh lets in a sharp breath. He has no fucking idea what he's talking about. He's nothing but a figment of her imagination. She yanks the needle out of her arm and stands. A little too fast, so she sits back down on the bed to gain her balance. Marcel frowns. "The hell are you doing?"

"I'm fine. I'm discharging myself. I need to go see him."

Marcel shakes his head. "Nevaeh, you're not in the best of shape either—"

"—I don't care. Close the door so that I can get dressed."

Marcel gives her an opposing look, but decides against arguing with his little sister. It wouldn't do any justice anyways, she's as obstinate and hard-headed as their father. If not more. Funny how she's actually also the most indecisive person he knows. Marcel closes the door and reaches for her clothes in the cabinet.

He sits them on the bed and turns around. Nevaeh unscrews the bottle she'd had in her back pocket and throws it on Marcel. He looks back at her with wide eyes. "What the hell?"

She shrugs. "Holy water. Had to be sure."

After a total of five minutes of struggling to slip her right arm through her shirt, she calls for Marcel to help.

She touches his face, and he looks at her like she's crazy. He's real. Really here. She narrows her eyes. "Asshole."

Marcel looks bewildered. "What?"

"Where the hell have you been all this time?" She digs her finger into his chest. "Leaving me on delivered, ignoring my phone calls?"

Marcel bites his lip and looks off to the side. "I know, I'm sorry. I just... I needed to know some things."

She frowns. "What things?"

He shakes his head and grabs her hand, leading her out of the room. "I'll explain everything later."

After a bit of back and forth between Nevaeh and the doctor, the doctor finally gives in. She explains the dos and don'ts, and discharges her after she signs some papers.