In A World of HURT (Open)

[Nichole Winchester]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; height: 380px; background-color:#E3E3E3; border-left: 3px solid #331E13; border-right: 3px solid #331E13;] too many dreamers, LOOKING FOR THE ONES THAT LAST

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Nichole left the casino and hotel in a whirlwind of emotion, she had just gotten done meeting Sam. The meeting did not go very easily, and she really wasn't paying much attention to her surroundings. So she didn't hear and register the shouting of people around her as they tried to get her attention. Nor did she hear and register the car horn as it blared at her. Her mind was too preoccupied with what happened between her and Sam, as she wondered what to do and go from there. He made it perfectly clear that he did not wish to think of her as family, and even though she pretended that was okay it still hurt her that he did. So what finally brought her out of thoughts was the searing pain that cut across her shins, just before her head made a solid and severe connection with first the hood and then the windshield. She had a brief moment of the sensation of flying as she was airborne, before she made a final contact with asphalt behind the car as it continued on down the street. She managed to stay conscious briefly in pain before she blacked out in a pain-filled semi-coma.

She had regained conscious next time in the ambulance with paramedics bustling around her as she was restrained in a neck brace and laying on a backboard on top of a gurney. Her body still hurt and parts of her stung as if she was missing patches of skin. Her eyes moved around her to take in the IV that someone had attached to her, and then closed her eyes once more. Next time she opened them, she was being rushed down a brightly lit hallway with nurses and doctors around her as they shouted orders across her bruised and battered body. Her head hurt and the shouting didn't help either. She briefly wondered why she wasn't healing like the time she had relocated Bishop's place, but she didn't get far down that road as she fell once more into unconscious. Her eyes drifted close on their own accord, and she didn't wake up for a while after that. During this “outage” she had been back at her Heaven, sadly watching her brothers go about 'ganking' monsters. Not even remembering her, wondering it that would be the best thing for them at her comatose point in time...

Nichole finally reopened her eyes once more to find that she was hooked up to various medical machines, and an oxygen nasal cannula poking into her nose. She hurt all over, and when she tried to move to see what worked and what didn't she winced in pain. She couldn't move very much, and even when she tried to wiggle her fingers and toes she hurt badly. She groaned in pain, as attempted to look around her to see where she was. She doubted anyone knew she was gone, and suddenly wished she had gone back to the only home she knew. Perhaps then everyone would be happier without her, and she would have been the only one to remember her...

TAGGED: Open WORD COUNT: 523 NOTES: She is just in a world of hurt, both physically and emotionally...

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i love brooklyn from caution !!!

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[Bobby Singer]

You'd think I'd give up As many times as I've been hit
But like a crazy old soldier I just don't know when to quit

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The phone rang and Bobby woke up with a start from his desk. The ache in his neck told him he’d fallen asleep at least three hours ago. There was a small puddle of drool on the book he’d turned into a pillow. Frowning, the hunter dabbed at it with his shirt sleeve.

“Alright, I’m comin’!” He growled at the still-ringing phone. After making his way through to the kitchen it took him a bleary moment to realise it wasn’t one of the ‘fake hotlines’; someone was actually calling the scrap yard’s phone. Nobody called the scrap yard anymore.

“H’llo?” He almost sounded surprised at his own voice when he answered.

“Hello, my name’s Vi, I’m calling from Sunrise Hospital in Las Vegas. Is there a Robert Singer there?”

Dread curled in the old hunter‘s belly, cold and tight. Suspicion was left behind as worry took over. “Speaking.”

“I’m wondering if you could help. We have a girl who was brought in this morning, blonde hair, fair skin, about five-five, no ID and her phone’s dead but… we found some stationary from the New York New York Hotel in her pocket with your name and number written down. Do you know anyone who might be in Las Vegas at the moment?”

“Aw, Hell…” He knew plenty.

“Mr Singer?”

“Sorry, I uh…” The description was a dead fit for Nichole Winchester. Dean had told Bobby about her last time he bothered to call, sent a hastily snapped picture message of a girl with fair hair and the same puppy-dog eyes as her twin. Dean kept not-so-subtly hinting that he was going to be bringing her round when they got the chance. Between the long-lost sister and Sam’s recovery, there’d been a whole lot of Winchester business that had passed by without him. On the one hand, being out of the loop left him free to take care of his own damn business. On the other hand, it meant he didn’t really know what was going on and crap like this totally blindsided him.

“Sounds like my, uh, niece, she was supposed to be on vacation in Vegas this week.” he managed. “Her name’s Nikki Campbell.” Bobby thought it might be better not to give out a real name, just in case whoever or whatever put her in the hospital was still on the prowl. “What happened, is she OK?”

“I believe it’s being investigated as a hit and run accident. We’re still classifying her condition as critical Mr Singer. Does she have any pre-existing medical conditions we need to be aware of?”

Was Holy Oil a valid allergy? “No, nothing I know of.” It sounded like Vi was about to ask another question but Bobby beat her to it. “Was there anyone with her when she got brought in?”

“No one, no. Should there have been?”

What the Hell was going on? Why wasn’t anyone with her? And why was the half-angel still critical if she’d been brought in nearly a day ago? Something didn’t add up. “I‘m not sure… I‘ll let the rest of her folks know though. Can you gimmie the directions to the hospital?”

He jotted the details down and thanked Vi for her time. The first person he called was Dean. It went to voicemail. He tried his other phone, again no answer so he waited to be put through to voicemail. “Goddamit boy, when it’s my caller ID flashin’ answer your goddamned phone! Some Vegas hospital just called, they got a woman admitted this mornin’ with a critical case of blunt trauma from a car, of all things. She had my number in her pocket, so unless you’ve bin tryin’ to drum me up some salvage trade I’m guessing that’d be Nichole. I gave ‘em the name Campbell, lemme know this hit and run thing didn’t hit you too!”

As an afterthought, he texted both Dean and Sam: sunrise hospital, 3186 s maryland pkwy, ic ward, room 9 “nikki campbell” - hit & runs dont fell angels. whats wrong with your sister?? - Bobby

Running his hand through his hair, the old hunter decided he was going to need some coffee before he did much else.

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Music: Just sonorous snoring
Clothes: Oh, you all know Bobby's typical warbrobe!
Notes: I think I'll include him leaving the house on the next post. If anyone needs edits then drop me a line. I imagined Dean's picture message looking something like this
Word Count: Around 700