GASOLINE | S.W.

Chapter 4

Macon sat on the end of her bed and stroked Nikolai's thick, grey fur as she tried to block out the hushed voices coming from behind her door.

She mentally hit herself for practically spilling her whole life story to two men she tried to kill when she was brainwashed a year ago. Worry grew in her stomach as she wondered if the whole thing was a trap. Maybe they still thought she was threat.

Meanwhile outside, the Winchester brothers were having a heated conversation.

"You're tellin' me you want to partner up with someone who worked for some secret organization that tried to kill us?" Dean nearly shouted as he threw his hands up in the air angrily. Sam sighed as he tried not to yell back, "You heard her, Dean. She was clearly brainwashed and forced to hurt people. Man, you saw the way she looked."

The eldest Winchester ran his hand down his face in frustration, "Yeah, but what if it's all a play? What if she goes all Winter Soldier mode on us?"

"Will you stop will all the Marvel references please? Dude, just let me talk to her. Maybe, she shouldn't be alone." Sam said the last sentence slowly, watching his brother. Dean turned around slowly, his eyes dangerous, "You want her to come with us? We already have so many things going on. Kevin, the demon tablet, and now, you want to bring someone else into it?"

Dean paced as Sam stayed silent. The older Winchester scratched his scruff before turning to face his brother, "Test her;silver blade, holy water. If she's clean, see if she wants to come with, but if she does, she's your baggage. I'm not looking out for her. If anything happens, it's on you." Sam swallowed nervously as he nodded.

Dean trudged back to their room while Sam knocked on Macon's door. The door swung open, Macon standing there in a black shirt and matching sweatpants. Her hair was bobby pinned on each side, holding her hair out of her face. Her silver septum ring was still slightly crooked as it was still healing. Sam wasn't big on piercings, but he thought it looked good on her. She let Sam inside and he couldn't help, but take in the details of her metal arm.

"Everybody stares, but nobody ever says anything." Macon spoke as she walked silently over to the refrigerator. Sam noticed she had an unusual accent. It wasn't quite American, but wasn't quite, what sounded like, Russian either. She opened it and pulled out a beer, offering one to Sam. He accepted it and she easily twisted the top off with her metal hand.

"I-I'm sorry." He said quietly as he politely took the beer from her. Macon slightly shrugged her shoulders as she sat on the counter, a simple 'don't worry about it' gesture.

Sam nodded and cleared his throat, "I-uh, I have to test you." He saw Macon's eyes widen slightly and quickly set his beer down. "Just some holy water and a silver blade and that's it. I'll let you do it." He cautiously slid his silver blade out of his jacket pocket along with his flask of holy water, placing them on the table.

Macon took a swig of her beer before padding over and taking the flask in her metal hand. She unscrewed the cap and poured some on her hand, having no reaction to it. She grabbed the silver blade and slid it across her forearm. Macon bit the inside of her lip as the knife sliced into her flesh, a droplet of blood running down her skin.

"Did I pass?" She asked, handing back Sam the silver blade and grabbing a dish rag, placing it on her cut. Sam huffed out a laugh as he pocketed his items, "Congratulations, you passed." Macon smiled at him over her shoulder while she dug through her duffel, getting out some gauze.

Sam watched closely as her metal fingers wrapped the material around her arm. Once she finished, she returned to her place by the counter and picked her beer up. "So, my brother and I are hunters and we travel around the country fighting monsters. It's only the bad monsters. We always let the good ones go, to have a second chance. You said you were running away. Maybe, you shouldn't be running alone."