Shotgun, Not It

I came to, listening to the sounds of someone begging.

The voice sounded familiar, but I knew instinctively that it wasn't one of my guys, so I dozed off again, letting Callie do what she needed to do in order to heal me.

This wasn't the first time that my organs had been removed. But it was the first time that my thread had been able to recreate a new one for me so fast. I could feel the cold table at my back and the metal straps around my wrists and ankles holding me down.

I kind of wondered how Phil, the phlebotomist, was going to react to me regrowing another heart.

But something told me that if he did discover that I could be an unlimited supply of organs, I would never leave this table again.

There were low murmurings around me of different voices, but I was much too tired to care.

----

The sound of a scream woke me up once again, and I turned my head to look at the scene in front of me.

Michael was stalking toward Phil, his sword held high right before he plunged it into the other man's chest.

"Well, that was slightly dramatic, don't you think?" I murmured, the image of Michael killing Phil playing over and over again in my head. It really couldn't have happened to a more deserving man.

And there was definitely a sense of irony involved in the whole thing. After all, he was doing this because an angel told him to. And yet, it was an angel that killed him for it too.

I loved poetic justice.

"Natalia?" whispered Michael as he dropped his bloody sword on the ground and staggered toward me. He unhooked the tubes of my blood from my arm before caressing his hand up and down my skin. "You're alive?"

"Well… yeah," I replied, confused. I looked around at the guys. Nicholas was the only other pale man in the room. Besides the dead guy, of course. "You didn't tell them?" I asked, looking at Viktor.

"I tried," shrugged the man, his hands in his pants pockets. "But they assumed that they knew best."

"Sweetie," murmured Nicholas, coming over to stand beside Michael. "Neither an angel nor a demon can heal from having their heart removed."

I shrugged the best I could and smiled. "Well, I guess that is why I am neither an angel nor a demon…"

However, there was a small voice in the back of my head that also wondered if this was why Gabriel also thought that I was an abomination… since, clearly, I was able to do things that neither side was capable of. 

"But thank you for returning my heart. It took a lot less time to simply stitch it back in than it does for Callie to recreate a whole new one."

"Callie?" asked Nicholas, looking around as if to see someone else.

"You can recreate a whole new one?" asked Michael.

"Uh, yeah?" I said, no longer as confident as I was before. How was this a new thing? "I'm the Ribbon girl… didn't you know that?"

"Butterfly, I thought you just used ribbons as a way of visually healing yourself," murmured Nicholas.

Callie took this time to pop out of my chest cavity and started to stitch my flesh back together. The two men simply watched in silence as she weaved through my chest, pulling the two ends together until there was nothing more than a straight line with black stitches.

"Can you do that?" asked Michael, looking at Nicholas.

"Nope," grunted Nicholas. "Not even close. And a wound like that would take a few days at least to heal from."

"Same," nodded Michael. The two men continued to stare at me like I was some sort of freak.

"Um," I murmured. "Is there any chance that you can get me off of this bed? And some clothes would be nice too… please."

I prided myself on not being a demanding bitch, but there were still a few basic necessities that I enjoyed. Clothes being at the forefront.

Viktor shook his head, and Levi blushed.

The poor man was covered from head to toe in Phil's blood, and while somewhat gory, it was a good look on him.

Viktor laid two of his fingers on the metal cuff keeping my right hand bound to the table. The metal melted on contact, pooling onto the floor before once again hardening. He repeated the process another three times until I was… free.

Nicholas removed his suit jacket and wrapped it around me, helping to guide my arms through the sleeves before buttoning up the front.

I did not have the boobs to pull this look off.

The dried blood also was a bit annoying, and all I wanted to do was have a boiling hot shower to wash Phil, the phlebotomist's hands off of my skin.

"Let's get you home, Butterfly," murmured Nicholas as he picked me up into a princess hold and hugged me closer to his chest. "I don't think I am going to be able to let you out of my sight any time soon."

The other guys grunted in agreement, causing me to smile.

I looked over at Dom and saw the serial killer dead at his feet. "Any idea what we should do with his body?" I asked. I knew what protocol demanded, but I was not in the mood to be answering a long list of questions.

"Oh, and we need to get rid of that blood," I continued, just now remembering the blood that had been slowly draining out of me.

Sasha walked over to where the two bags were hanging from the IV and took them off. He quickly left the room with them, and I shrugged. If I never saw an IV bag, it would be too soon.

Even though my blood didn't set off any warning bells, I wouldn't be donating it to anyone other than my guys, not like they'd ever need it.

"So," asked Mathew, coming up to give me a kiss on the head, not at all caring about Nicholas. "Who's going to tell Mike what happened?"

"Shotgun, not it," I shuddered, smiling.

"Figured," grumbled Mathew, rolling his eyes before picking up his phone and calling it in. I nodded to Nicholas, more than ready to leave this whole thing behind me.