Beep. Beep. Beep.

Destiny's eyes fluttered open and she groaned. Florescent lights shone overhead and the smell of disinfectant filled her nose. As her eyes adjusted more, she realized she was laying in a hospital bed, the steady beep of the monitor keeping track of her heartbeat. Groaning again, she attempted to sit up.

"Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy!" a foreign voice urged her.

Looking over, she saw a large man with long shoulder-length hair and brown eyes sitting beside her bed. His left arm was in a sling and he wore simple jeans and a flannel over a dark t-shirt. He stood up, and she swore the broad-shouldered brute was taller than Dean, though she wouldn't know for sure unless she saw Dean standing next to him.

"You lost a lot of blood," he continued. "You should try and get some rest."

"Who... where... what happened?"

The man smiled, showing a full set of pearly white teeth. He was certainly attractive in his own way, though Destiny had never particularly liked men who grew their hair long. She preferred men to be clean cut, like Dean.

"Dean killed Crowley and helped me get you here. He asked me to look after you for a while. Thought it would be better if he stayed away from you."

"Dean... I don't understand," Destiny shook her head.

"Sorry, you probably don't know. I'm Sam," the man said.

"Sam? Dean's brother?"

Sam nodded his head.

"Where is he? Is he still..."

"He's still a demon, yes," Sam informed her. "I, uh, haven't gotten a chance to give him the cure since I've been looking after you." 

"But where is he?" Destiny pressed.

Sam bit his lip, glancing away from her uncomfortably.

"I, uh... I don't know exactly. He took off as soon as you were rushed into emergency surgery."

Grimacing, Destiny attempted to sit up again.

"Careful!" Sam cried, putting out his good hand to steady her.

"Ow," she hissed, putting a hand to her stomach.

She could feel bandages wrapped tightly around her middle through the thin fabric of the hospital gown she wore. As she touched them, memories began to flood back into her mind.

"Winchester's bitch," she muttered.

Sam's cheeks went red, squirming slightly at her words.

"More scars to add to my collection," she continued to herself, ignoring Dean's brother.

"C-collection?"

Destiny nodded glancing over her shoulder at her back.

"My dad used to whip me with his belt. I have quite the collection on my back. Now I have more on my front to join them."

"H-he whipped you?"

"And beat me. And yelled at me. And did basically any other type of abuse you can think of that you shouldn't do with your eight-year-old child."

Sam looked pale as he stared at the young woman in the hospital bed. No wonder Dean had grown attached to her. Assuming he knew any portion of her past, they'd be perfect for each other. Between the way her father treated her, and the way their father treated them, they had a common ground that they could bond over.

Plus, there was the added benefit of free sex. After all, Sam was sure Crowley had a very good reason to carve that phrase into the young woman's body beyond simply torturing her.

"Where's your father now?"

"Don't know. I ran away a few weeks before my eighteenth birthday. I haven't seen or heard from him in nearly a decade."

Silence fell once more, with the exception of the constant beeping from the heart monitor.

"Can I ask you a question?" Destiny finally broke the silence.

"Go ahead," Sam nodded.

"Why are you here? I mean, Dean's spent the better part of a year trying to stay away from you, so why are you here?"

"He called me," Sam admitted after a moment.

"He called you?"

"Yeah, he called me and said he needed help finding you and getting you back."

"Wasn't he worried that you would give him the cure the second you finished helping him?"

"I kept bringing that up, and he kept insisting that he wouldn't even give me the chance to try."

"Ah."

Another bout of silence settled over the pair of them. It was awkward for both parties. For Destiny, because of all the time she had spent with Dean, listening to him talk about how his idiot brother wouldn't just leave him alone and for Sam, because he barely knew the girl in the hospital bed who had been helping his brother run away.

"I'm going to go get some coffee and let the nurses know you're awake," Sam said finally.

"Okie dokie," Destiny nodded.

She watched Dean's younger brother exit her room, absently running a hand over her stomach where she knew the bandages were hiding her new scars.

Destiny sighed, washing down the last table while Kelsey finished up behind the bar. It had been nearly three months since her time in the hospital and she hadn't seen either of the Winchester brothers once during that time. If she didn't have scars across her stomach as a constant reminder of what happened, she might have been able to pass it off as a really crazy dream.

As it was, every time she undressed or took a shower, her eyes would drift down and she'd trace the lettering with one of her fingers.

WINCHESTER'S BITCH.... That was all she was. When she was little, she was nothing. A little nobody that would never amount to anything in life. Stuck under the abusive reign of her father. She had escaped that life, started to make something of herself. A job. Friends. A home. She had it all. And then she had to go and run off with the Deanmon.

She went and willingly helped him murder dozens of innocent men before allowing him to fuck her senseless into a mattress. Crowley was right. She was, and always would be, a little whore. Dean's little bitch for him to fuck and throw away like she was nothing again. No one would ever understand what she went through.

But in spite of how things ended, she didn't want to change one second of it. She would do it all again, just to go back and spend one more night in Dean's arms. Because if she was sure of one thing, during her month and a half with the elder Winchester, she had fallen totally and completely in love with him.