Flightless Bird (Supernatural Fanfiction)

Once more (8)

"Scarlett, I brought you supper." I hear from my open door.

I was lying down in bed as I had for the last two days. The day after Sam and Dean left I was bedridden. I could barely stand then, now I could just barely force myself to sit up. Headaches came and went often. Breathing became steadily harder as did holding down meals. Last night, I couldn't hold my book long enough to finish a chapter. Today, I sat up once, only to watch the snow fall out my window.

"Thank you Charlie, but I don't have an appetite." I croak, directing my attention towards him. He sets down the third tray of food today on my bed side table and sits on the edge of my bed.

"The only thing you have eaten today is breakfast which you through up shortly after." He says. "You can't keep your strength up this way. I need you as well as I can get you for the blood transfusions."

"I'm sorry Charlie." I mutter. "I don't think it's going to work."

"We don't know that yet," He replies, not surprised with my comment which I felt all but good for saying. He is about to continue when the phone rings. He takes my hand, sitting me up before walking for the phone. I take the fork and struggle to tangle the pasta in it.  Before I could lift it to my lips, however, I could already feel the urge to through up.

"Scarlett," Charlie catches my attention. "it's Dean, can you talk?" I nod and he hands me his cell phone, leaving to give me privacy.

"Hi Dean," I say weakly.

 "Hey Scar, we couldn't get a hold of you today, how are you feeling?" He asks me.

"I'm tired." I tell him, staring at the pasta. I could hear mutters from Sam in the background on the other line, 'Is she OK?'  'How is she?' 'Let me speak to her!'.

"Sam shut up," Dean tells him before talking to me again. "Charlie told me you've been sick. You should eat something Scar."

"I know." I respond. "I just can't hold it down."

"Charlie says there will only on more transfusion and it will all be over." Dean assures me. I let out a choked sigh.

"I don't know if I can hold on that long," I tell him quietly.

"Hey, don't say that." He says sternly. I could tell he was scowling. "Especially not to Sam," He whispers. "You're going to be great when this is all over. Hear me?"

"It's just-"

"Hear me?"

"Yes Dean."

"Good, now I'll let you talk to Sam before he cuts me." He responds and as soon as Dean's voice was gone Sam was filling the other line.

"Scar?" He asks worried.

"Hi Sam," I reply, clearing my throat after.

"Hey, hi, how are you?" He asks sounding relieved. I think for a good enough conclusion before responding.

"I'm going to be fine," An answer without giving an answer. One that wouldn't hurt Sam.

"Okay," He responds. "I'm sorry I can't be there,"

"Don't be. You wouldn't want to see me like this," I assure him.

"Well...on a brighter note, we've got our trip planned out," Sam says, struggling to change the topic. "to hell that is."

"How is that a brighter note?" I ask.

"Well...I don't know actually," He replies and I laugh lightly before feeling a sting of pain in my ribs and am forced to stop.