Maddison Winchester: Journal 3 {Supernatural}

1 The Magnificent Seven: Part 4

Sam and Dean piled three demon corpses into a hole they had dug while Bobby was in the house exorcising the other two. Tamara was giving Isaac a hunter's funeral a few yards away from us.

Sam stood up and sighed after putting the last corpse into the hole. "Think she's gonna be all right?" He looked over at Tamara.

Dean shook his head. "No. Definitely not."

Sam sighed and pointed to my arm. "Let me see that now."

I shrugged. "It's fine," I said, not wanting him to see it because I knew it would result in stitches that I didn't want. I put my arm behind my back.

"No, no, no. Let me see." He walked over to me while Dean dumped salt and gas onto the bodies.

I groaned and gave him my arm. He started to untie the fabric, and as he did, I could feel the wound reopen slowly.

"Ow, ow, ow," I whined.

"Oh, god. Maddi, this looks awful," Sam said as he inspected my arm.

Dean threw a match into the hole, and the bodies caught fire. "What?" he asked as he walked over, but then he spotted my arm. "Whoa, that's gonna need stitches."

"Ugh, no..." I groaned, feeling tears come to my eyes out of fear.

I didn't understand why I was so afraid, but the thought of needles made me cringe, and I didn't like talk of them piercing my skin.

Sam smiled. "It'll be fine. I'll take care of you."

"Fine." I sighed and then followed Sam and Dean into the house.

Sam collected everything he needed and then had me sit down at the table. Dean sat down next to me and tried to distract me.

"So, how about I take you to get some pie after this?" Dean asked.

Sam unscrewed a bottle of alcohol and poured it on my wound.

I winced. "I want a whole pie."

Dean laughed. "A whole pie? You won't finish that."

"I don't care. It'll make me feel better if I have the option to eat it all if I want to," I said.

Dean smirked. "You got it short stuff."

My eyes practically bulged out of my face when Sam pierced the needle through my skin.

"A little warning would be nice!" I yelled.

"That would defeat the purpose of distracting you," Sam said calmly.

"Right, sorry," I said.

Dean put his hand on the table. "Here, squeeze my hand whenever it hurts. It'll help."

I took his hand and squeezed it almost immediately because I could feel every tug, pull, and pierce of the needle as Sam continued to stitch my arm.

"That's all you got?" Dean joked.

"What? This isn't enough?" I squeezed his hand as hard as I could.

Dean looked around the room as if he was waiting for something. "Oh, that was it?" He squeezed my bicep with his other hand. "We're gonna have to work on that."

I glared at him and punched him in the arm.

"Ow," Dean whined. "Just kidding." He smirked.

"Hey, hey. Trying to stitch up your arm over here," Sam scolded.

"Sorry," I said and stuck my tongue out at Dean.

Sam sighed. "I'm done anyway."

"Really?" I asked, surprised, and then quickly looked down at my arm. "It looks kinda... awesome."