Dead Already


"Here, put pressure on her shoulder." Sam rummaged through his bag and found a couple rags. They weren't as clean as he'd have liked, but it was the best they could do. He handed one to Dean, and ripped the top part of her shirt, revealing the mark. Dean wrapped the rag on it, and attempted to stop the bleeding. Then Sam got to work on her arms and sides.

The gashes weren't all that deep, luckily. Sam did his best to clean them and bandage them up. "What are we going to do, Sam?" Dean asked frantically. He was trying to clean up her shoulder, and it was clear that it was a bite. "There's nothing we can do..."

"We'll figure it out, Dean... why was she even outside? Why were you outside?"

"I was taking a walk," Dean answered quickly. "I don't know why she was out there."

"Okay, let's try and bandage her shoulder. There's not much of the tape left, but we can use another rag. Here..."

He managed to patch her up and stop the bleeding, but all the while he knew it was hopeless. She'd be dead within the next two nights. She'd be worse than dead.

They laid her down as comfortably as they could in the bedroom, unsure of what else they could do.

Neither wanted to say the inevitable. She was going to die. There was no stopping it, now. It was only a matter of days.

"What do we do?" Sam asked, quietly. "What do you do when there's nothing you can do?"

"There's got to be something..." Dean shook his head. "There has to be."

"She's bitten, Dean. You know what happens. It's going to be a painful process. She's only going to get worse, until..." Sam let his voice trail off, his point made.

Suddenly, from the bed, they both heard coughing. "Megan!" They shouted simultaneously, rushing to her side.

Megan moaned, trying to roll over. "Ah... ow that hurts..."

"Megan, try not to move." Dean rolled her on her back. "Try to lay still."

Megan opened her eyes and saw the two of them hovering over her with worried faces. "Jesus Christ... what happened?"

Sam and Dean exchanged glances, but didn't answer her. Megan quickly looked down, and saw the bandages all over her body. She remembered going after Dean in the woods, and she remembered the zombie. "A zombie attacked me." She spoke slowly, trying to figure it out. "Did it..." Oh, shit... "Did I get bit?"

"I'm so sorry, Megan."

Megan closed her eyes. She could feel a dull, stinging pain in her shoulder, and she knew she was right. "So I'm going to die?"

Dean wanted to say no. He wanted to tell her that there was a way to fix it, to save her. But he knew there wasn't. There was nothing they could do.

"If there was something we could do..."

"I know," Megan opened her eyes again. "It's okay. Thanks for patching me up, but..." There's no point. "I've never seen... no one ever, uh... what's going to happen to me?"

Sam glanced at Dean. "You'll, uh, you'll start to feel sick. A fever, probably nausea. And then you just fall asleep..."

"And wake up a monster." Megan added bitterly.

"It won't be you." Dean corrected.

"Yeah but it will be my body. And my only goal will be to... to... eat." She protested, sitting up slightly. "I don't want to be that. I can't-" She cut herself off. She looked up at Dean. "Please, Dean."

It took him a second to realize what she was asking him. "No, Megan. I can't do that. I won't."

"Dean, wait-"

"No! Megan. I'm not killing you."

Megan sighed. She was going to be dead in two days at the most. It didn't matter how she died. It mattered whether she was going to wake up again. "Sam, you have to understand."

Sam widened his eyes. "I... I don't know..."

"I'm going to die, anyway! I'm dead! It's over for me, guys! I just don't want to sit here and die slowly..." She looked to both of them, but they both turned away. Neither would do it, and honestly, she couldn't blame them. "Fine. Just... give me a gun."


"Give me it, and leave. I'll do it..."

Dean and Sam waited outside for a gunshot. They had been reluctant, but in the end, it wasn't their choice, it was Megan's. So they stood by the door. Sam with tears in his eyes, and Dean refusing to look over at him. And they waited.

It never came.

After a few minutes, they knocked on the door and went in. Megan was sitting on the bed, holding her knees close to her chest and sobbing quietly. The gun was laying on the bed beside her.

They sat down with her, and waited for her to get worse.

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