they shouldn't of have expected anything less. daisy had been fourteen, after all, she had probably been having her menstrual cycle for a few years.
the girl had started crying when she realized she had started, and would not let the men remove her from the backseat of the impala as she bled through her pants. she screamed whenever they got close, scared out of her mind.
the elder winchester made his brother go get the necessary feminine products, which included some new clothes, while he consoled her.
what's wrong? have you never... bled, from down there? dean had asked awkwardly.
yes, since i was eleven, daisy had cried in despair. bu–but they said the type of blood that comes from there is good, that it's good in nutrients.
so, what? they collected it?
no– no. to get enough they had to– they did things to me every month. they'd make me spread my legs and then they'd put their heads— there she went with being too comfortable with telling information.
dean had to stop himself from retching. stop. we won't do anything to you.
and was where the true trust began.
