Death's Daughter | Supernatural, D.W.

Paging Dr. Cas

Things are quiet around the bunker now. Sam and Dean go on the occasional hunt, and I choose to sit most things out, because secretly, my body is reacting adversely to the change of having human DNA.

I've pondered it repeatedly. If part of me is human, I shouldn't have to worry about the effect the transfusion is taking on me. Unfortunately, there is a flaw in that reasoning somewhere, but I can't find it. Logically, I should already have had human DNA in my genetics, but it seems that my mortal and immortal sides are, quite literally, at war.

I've read all of the books in the bunker about human-mix supernatural beings, but I can't find anything to explain my case. I don't know what's happening to me, all I know is that it's getting worse and worse.

It's gotten to the extent that I've begun isolating myself from the boys. Cas hasn't been around, so I haven't had to worry about him, but I worry that Dean will start to become suspicious any time now. I tuck myself into my room, where I spend my days vomiting the bright purple liquid and fighting the headaches and fevers that burn me from the bones, out.

Today is no different. I was able to get myself out to speak with Sam and Dean for a few minutes before sneaking back to my room to suffer. But this time, someone follows me.

"Mallory," Sam calls from behind me. I pause, cursing him in my head. I was so close to my door.

I turn around, putting on my best face. "Yeah?"

"Is everything okay?" He asks. His eyebrows are knit up in concern.

"Of course, why wouldn't it be?" I shrug. I'm starting to feel sicker and sicker by the second.

"I don't know, you just seem to spend a lot of time alone," Sam pauses, "and I mean this with sincerity and concern, but you're starting to look like crap."

I frown and cross my arms. "Thank you, Sam, anything else you need?"

"Uh, I guess not," he mumbles. "Just, promise you'll let us know if you need something."

"Yeah. Thanks."

Finally, I turn into my room. Immediately as I get through the door, I find my way to the attached bathroom and spill my guts into the toilet.

It astounds me that I can throw up so much, when Cas only gave me two small syringes of DNA.

When I'm finished, I sulk to my bed, and seek comfort under the blankets. It doesn't last long. I overheat within minutes.

A couple of hours go by before someone decides to bother me again. It's Sam.

He knocks at my door. "Mallory, can I come in for a second?"

I take a breath to compose myself, and remind myself that he's only annoying because he cares.

"Yes."

The door opens, and my composure flies out the window as Sam walks in, with Dean and Cas in tow.

"Sam?!" I question, sitting up quickly, and instantly feeling my sickness return. I have no choice but to stumble to the bathroom and suffer through the humiliation of my three best friends watching me hurl.

"Jesus Christ, what is that?" Dean asks.

"Mallory, what's going on with you?" Cas seems to panic, quickly coming to my aide. He observes me for a moment as I rest in a heap on the floor. "This isn't good. Come on, let's get you back to the bed."

"I just need a minute to breathe," I respond. Exhaustion starts to blanket my mind.

"Nope, not doing that," Dean says. His arms cradle me, and he picks me up off the floor.

"I hate you," I mumble.

"No, you don't, you're just mad," he defuses me.

Carefully, he delivers me to my bed. I watch Castiel as he approaches me. He looks concerned, but all of them look that way.

"How long has this been happening?" He asks.

"It started about two days after I woke up."

"Mallory, it's been almost a week since then," he scolds. "Why didn't you call? Why didn't you say something?"

"I thought it would go away. I thought it might've just been a part of the process."

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say it isn't," Dean comments.

"Shut up," I groan. "You don't even know what's going on."

"Neither do you, so stop acting like a smartass and let someone help you, for fuck's sake."

"Dean," Sam warns. "It's not the time for this."

"This has nothing to do with you, Dean," I reply shortly. "If you're just going to bitch, then get out."

"It has plenty to do with me!" Dean raises his voice, but stops talking, and leaves the room.

I sigh loudly. "That was fun. Can we get this show on the road?"

Castiel sits beside me on the bed and places a calming hand on my forehead. I expect him to heal me, but nothing happens. I lie still in my misery.

"Your reaper DNA is attacking the extra human DNA from the transfusion," he states. "You body is expelling it. I'm not sure how you're vomiting so much when you had so little, but we'll figure it out."

"So what does that mean?" I ask. "What am I expelling now?"

"I don't know. It could be possible that the transfused DNA combined with the rest of your existing human material, and now you're completely getting rid of it."

"I don't want that. How do we stop this?"

"I wish I knew. I'll look around and see if I can find some type of spell or lore. For now, you're on bed rest, and you need to be looked after."

"I will not be babysat," I reject. "I've handled myself this much."

"He's right," Sam pipes up. "You really should let us help you. Even if it's just checking on you. Dean and I have been through our fair share of weird supernatural illnesses, we've got some home remedies. We should start with fluids, though. You ever had a good glass of water?"

I roll my eyes at both of the men in my room. "Whatever. But you have to respect my privacy. If I ask you to leave, you have to leave."

"Okay," Sam and Cas agree simultaneously.

"That being said, I'm tired, and I'd like to rest for a bit."

They both nod and leave my room promptly. As obnoxious as all three of them can be, I begin to realize how lucky I am to have fallen into this situation. Despite the drawbacks of my past and my current predicament, I wouldn't trade it or change anything.