Andi King didn't know how to play nice, because quite frankly, she didn't like people. She was a loner and that was how she liked it. Especially with a sadistic demon dead set on destroying her and anyone she got close to.
But that all changes when...
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Everything was a blur after I saw the blood on my hands. Meg was screaming. John was shouting. Sam collapsed, and Dean was just staring at me with this broken look on his face as I fell backward into the altar. I smelt the twinge of blood that spilled from the bowl. I saw the demon's shadows cast against the wall, and just like that, Meg was gone. Out the window. Sprawled out on the sidewalk, just next to me, as I pulled my bag from the trunk of the Impala.
There was only silence behind me as I ripped open the bag of quick clot and lifted the sleeve of my shirt. I bit down on my lip. There was no doubt I needed a hospital. I knew the bullet was lodged. I could feel the hot metal searing every cell it touched, but despite the pain that shot down my arm, I clenched my twitching fingers into a fist as I dumped the coarse powder into the bloody hole to bide more time.
He shot me.
He actually shot me.
I didn't think he had it in him, but I was thankful that he did. Someone had to. I just couldn't shake the feeling that the hole in my arm resulted from the stressful situation and shaky aim. Dean was a straight shooter, but the look on his face after he pulled the trigger didn't seem like the look of someone who had hit their target where he intended.
I tried to convince myself he heard me tell Sam what to do. That he knew I was planning on letting Sam overpower me and taking control of the situation, but deep down I knew he didn't. He just fired. He shot the monster holding a gun to his brother's head.
Every slur I could think of escaped my lip as I tried to pace off the pain. My eyes clenched tight, and I walked in small circles until I no longer felt the stream of blood racing down my arm. Even then, as I opened my eyes, I avoided the lingering stares around me - only looking up to make sure Meg's body was still lying on the sidewalk and the demon in her hadn't walked away in her broken body.
It was the only victory, but I couldn't even relish in that.
Not when the real Meg Master's was more than likely dead, and the Winchesters were standing quietly behind me, watching closely as I tied off my arm with a bit of fabric I had torn from one of Dean's shirts. I pulled it tightly, wincing as I tried to knot it off with my teeth. I was thankful that he had at least gone for the left arm, but as he came into view, I wished he would have just shot me in the head.
"Leave me alone," I muttered, turning my back to him.
