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Post by MAGGY FIELDS on Oct 11, 2010 8:53:47 GMT 8
For others, Sunday dinner’s the time where the whole family would spend the night with a little family game and mouthful dinner, like thanksgiving minus the turkey. Preferably some baked macaroni, mashed potato with gravy, Sunday dinner meant for an all carb diet. But for Maggy Fields, after her father disappeared or died, no one knows for sure, Sunday dinner’s just like any other dinner. Sometimes she spends it at home and there are days she spends it in the hospital, making rounds, examining some patient’s case or in the operating room trying to save someone’s life. There are times she lost track what day it was. She only needs to keep track of the schedule for her patients but other than that, she finds no reason to do so. Maggy doesn’t feel sorry for her life. She’s not bitter about it either, though that doesn’t stop her from uncovering the truth behind her father’s disappearance or what the police always say, death, even though no body was found yet. She thought spending her entire life burying in loneliness, punishing or feeling sorry for herself is not what her father wants for her. She knows that wherever her father maybe, he would want her happy and continuing his good works.
And so after satisfying her appetite with spaghetti with meatballs and a glass of wine, Maggy, as always, picked up the black bag from her trash bin, tied it up and headed outside and took the trash out. As she closed the bin, something vibrated in her side pocket. The caller ID says it’s from the hospital and quickly, she answered it. ”This is what you should do, try to talk to her and see if she can still bear the pain ‘cause we want to avoid her being too dependent to the pain killer but if it’s unbearable oh my god please ease her from pain.” She instructed the nurse on the phone. As she was about to go back inside her house, Maggy saw someone on the sidewalk almost hidden behind the bush and slowly she made her way there.
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Post by JOHN WINCHESTER on Oct 12, 2010 20:34:51 GMT 8
Ah, the smell of blood and the feeling of triumph in the evening. Forget booze or a nice, hot meal; there was nothing like the knowledge that his actions were the reason why some kid was going to grow up to run the country. Because of him, of his actions, another monster that haunted the suburbs was dead.
...Now, if only said blood wasn't his own, and that every joint in his body wasn't aching from being thrown through a rotted wall. One would think that whoever dragged him down from his perch in Heaven would have at least given him some of his youth back, but no...
With a wry snort, John settled down on the curb, a bit aways from one of the unsuspecting houses. His car was a few blocks over, hidden from cops and curious neighbors and without anyone around to comment, he stretched long legs out with a sigh. He'd just take a little breather; catch his second wind, then head on back to the motel to patch up. With a wince, he reached up the scratch at the dried blood on his head and snag yet another splinter from his scalp.
He was getting slow, he thought with a little glower down at his boots. Pretty soon, he'd be too damn rickety to trust in a hunt. Not foe the first time, he wondered why he'd been brought back as was...why he was even brought back at all...
Footsteps behind him had him tensing with a curse. Great; he was slow AND deaf. wonderful. Catching sight of a silouhette, he prayed that she wouldn't call the cops.
"Sorry, I was justaking a breather," He said, quickly standing. "I"ll get off your property now. G'night, ma'am."
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Post by MAGGY FIELDS on Oct 12, 2010 22:45:43 GMT 8
Maggy stood in awed silence, her eyes locked on him. If she had her mouth open, she wasn't sure, she can't remember but one this she's very much certain was that she never expected to see this person that night, nor tomorrow, not ever simply because he was...dead. Maggy never got the honor to be personally introduced to him but since part of her had been in the hunting scene as well, she definitely heard his name and saw his picture somewhere. Finally gained back her senses, Maggy quickly jumped in front of him and stopped him. She then saw a trickle of blood in his forehead that made her curious as to where and what he's been through. "I'll be damned if I let you wander in the street this late not to mention bleeding. Please come in for a while, just let me patch those wounds."
Maggy didn't wait for him to respond, for sure he will decline her offer, instead, she hauled him inside her house. She jerked her head towards the sofa telling him to sit down while she hurriedly ran inside her room to get her first aid kid. Maggy came back with the kit, some hand towel and basin and a cup of coffee. "I still have something for dinner. I bet you're hungry." She said to him as she dipped the hand towel in the basin filled with clean water, squeezed out the excess water and carefully wiped it over his head. "I'll clean it first so I could examine how deep your wound is, we might need to do some stitching there unless it's just a scratch." She explained to him, still continuing cleaning his wound, the water in the basin now's red. "So, it's really you huh. John Winchester." Maggy at last revealed she knew who he was all along. "I put some holy water in this to test if it really is you. My CCTV camera doesn't see any camera flare-like which means you're not a shape shifter either. You're supposed to be dead." She stated, which she thinks her words came out the wrong way but she just doesn't know how else to say it. "By the way, I'm Maggy Fields. I'm a surgeon and a hunter too."
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