hunterusheroicus | Dean Winchester/Eliot

Eliot found he couldn't argue that. Just something in the way Dean said those words... He sighed and moved to wrap himself tighter in the blankets.

"Fuckin' idiot," he muttered, but listened in that he did stop arguing. There was no point in wasting much needed breath when the hunter was too stupid for his own good.

He also felt his body relax easier, and giving Dean a resigned glare, he settled to rest as commanded. Whatever it was, his wolf didn't seem to want to fight anymore and when Eliot closed his eyes, they were blue again.

"I'm going to bring back food too. I don't know how long we'll need to be holed up in here." He sighed as he got up off the bed. His fingers brushed through Eliot's hair one last time before he snagged the keys to the Impala and headed out.

Eliot hadn't meant to, especially not with himself in a strange place not of his choosing and enemies possibly closing in, but he slept. His body needed it and it was getting hard to focus anyway. Even discounting the fever that burned his already unnatural body temperature even higher, his vision had been weaving ever since he got into the bedroom. The best way to deal with it was to sleep, but... did he trust Dean that much that he believed him when he said he was safe?

He must've though, for even half an hour later, Eliot was dozing lightly under the covers, the weapons untouched where Dean had left them.

It had taken Dean a bit longer than he'd thought to get back, but he was back at least. He slipped into the room carrying a couple bags containing food and anything else he thought he might need from the Impala as well as the two rugs with devils traps on them.

He set the food down, humming to himself as he checked on Eliot before laying the rugs down. He pulled two hex bags out of one of the bags on the table, setting one by the window and another in the bedside table.

Once he felt he had everything situated he put the food up. After, Dean toed off his boots and tugged off his socks before pulling his shirt off and laying down next to Eliot. He wrapped an arm around him, mumbling softly to him the whole time so the man wouldn't lash out in his sleep.

It said something about Eliot's state that he hadn't realized the door had opened and Dean had returned until the man was checking on him. He tensed a bit and made a soft noise from the pain, but for all appearances it would seem that he hadn't waken.

Which was the same thing, for after identifying that it was Dean, he relaxed and moved back into dozing again. If he was of his right mind, he would be concerned how relaxed he felt around him.

When he was aware again it was when Dean was slipping into the bed with him. He felt the dip in the bed and the soft reassuring mumbles, so this time, he decided to crack open an eye.

Everything still felt topsy-turvy, but he was felt marginally. Maybe. It might've actually been his imagination. But that didn't stop him from muttering, "Moron."

He rolled his eyes at the insult, shifting them so that Eliot's head was on his chest "Asshole." He sighed, tugging at his sleeve. "I need to get you out of this shirt. Got blood all over it, plus it would be easier to check the bullet hole." He thought about it for a moment. "You mind me ruining your already ruined shirt?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling a bit as his thumb brushed the mark on his neck slowly. "Since this place is a little nicer we actually have a kitchenette so theres actually real food. If you still can't get up and you get hungry tell me."

Eliot snorted at the question and made a soft noise of acquiesce. It wasn't like the shirt was salvageable anyway.

The hand brushing against his neck made him whimper lightly and he leaned in closer against Dean's chest. He moaned and sighed lightly.

"You tellin' me you know how to cook?" He whispered in a pained chuckle. He didn't mean to insult the man but Dean just didn't look like the cooking type.

He squeezed his neck gently before letting his fingers continue rubbing and brushing over his skin. He looked down, raising an eyebrow before smiling. "Yeah I know how to cook a little. Probably couldn't pull off anything special, but burgers, simple stuff, and hey I can even cook steak." He nodded a bit before relaxing more.

"Are you sure you don't want something for the pain? You're safe. I've made sure of that." He sighed softly, pushing Eliot's hair away from his face slowly. "Me and Sammy bounced around from hotel to hotel our whole lives and were left to fend for ourselves at the best of times. Dad was out hunting most of the time so I had to learn how to cook something other than spaghetti-os and cereal."

"No drugs," Eliot insisted with a very light shake of his head. He didn't move much after that, letting Dean all but pet him.

The surprising thing was instead of grumbling and pulling away, Eliot continued to let him. This was the most intimate he had been with anyone, most vulnerable too, and he found himself only getting more relaxed.

"I cook," he murmured, eyes closing again when he got too tired. "I'll make you somethin' when I'm better." It was the least he could do for what Dean was doing for him.

"Okay okay. No drugs." He mumbled, closing his eyes as he continued to pet him. He wasn't really tired, but laying like this with Eliot was definitely nice. He shifted, mumbling softly. "Sounds like a plan to me. Get some more rest and I'll fix us up something."

He leaned his head against Eliot's, rubbing over his side with his other arm slowly.

Eliot nodded silently, seemingly relaxed against Dean until his body began shuddering slightly. He didn't make any noise of complaint but every so often, he would get into bouts of shivering.

The longer Dean had the werewolf resting up against him, the more the hunter would realize how hot Eliot was. His body temperature was above even the last two times they met.

"Not hungry..." Eliot eventually whispered with a slight shake of his head. "Get me water."

He had noticed that Eliot was burning up, even for him. He frowned before working his way out of the bed without jarring the man around. He pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge before taking it back to him. "Okay, I'm gonna get that shirt off of you now. I want to check and see if you're healing up at all."

He dug through his duffel bag for a moment before pulling out a plain pocket knife. "You trust me?" He walked back to the bed, sitting next to him.

Feeling Dean's movements, Eliot opened one eye to track the man wearily. "Bit late to ask that," he pointed out in a husky whisper. There was a sharpness in the feverish bright blue gaze at the appearance of the knife but for the moment, Eliot made no actual protest.

Instead, he busied himselfwith wrenching open the water bottle.

"Just do it," he growled when he thought Dean was taking too long.

"Never been shot... with silver before."

He watched Eliot as he cut through his shirt and then carefully pulled it off. He tossed the scraps into the trash before pressing his hand to his back. He was still burning up and he frowned at that, shaking his head.

He went back to the bags that were still on the table, pulling out a few things before carrying them over to the bed. There was alcohol and clean gauze as well as medical tape. "Just...try to relax ok?" Yeah because he knew that this wasn't going to be easy.

He carried over the last few things, including a curved needle and thread just in case he decided to stitch him up. He nudged Eliot completely onto his stomach before sitting on his thighs and carefully peeling off the bandage he'd already put there.

Since Eliot couldn't see the wound, he had no idea what Dean was facing. But from feeling alone, he knew it wasn't a simple brush.

"How bad is it...?" He rolled onto his stomach but still tried to look slightly over his shoulder. Yet when the motion of turning brought more of that muscle numbing pain, he gritted his teeth and buried his forehead into the bed instead.

His body's quivering would also make it difficult to sew him up since it wouldn't stay still.

Dean hissed just from the look alone, shaking his head a bit. "Its...nasty looking okay?" He actually pushed Eliot's shoulder, frowning. "Don't try and look at it. You're just gonna hurt yourself more." He shifted, slipping a little higher on Eliot's thighs as he reached for the bottle of water he'd brought over.

"Okay so what I want you to do is talk. Just...it'll help focus your mind on something else." He tried to think for a moment as he unscrewed the cap on the bottle. "Tell me about when you change. What happens during the full moon, Eliot?" He poured some water on a strip of gauze before he started wiping away blood around the wound.

"Maybe if you tell we can figure things out and I might actually leave when you change. Seeing as how you were so determined to get me to." Not that he really would, but it might get Eliot to talking, right?

Eliot growled at the treatment, but a part of him understood that Dean was only trying to help so he didn't try to turn around again or bite his head off. He did make grumbling noises though, weak as they were, and pointed back out, "It's not my first time gettin' shot, you know." He had scars to prove it and Dean would have seen them.

He managed to stay still during the cleaning process of it, at least, for now. It was probably due to Dean hadn't really tackled the wound itself yet.

"You are gonna leave, alright?" He growled again now that they were on this topic. His voice was still barely above a whisper, but the force behind the words weren't lacking. "There's no 'ifs' or 'mights' about it."

"Maybe not, but it is the first time you were shot with silver." He poured a little bit of the water around the wound, shaking his head slightly before repeating with the alcohol.

"You really think you're in any condition to make me leave?" He cleaned the wound as best as he could, feeling the heat radiating from it. "Now stop trying to tell me what I am gonna do. Tell me what happens when you change." He was genuinely curious and he thought it might help with the research he was doing.

"Don't underestimate me," Eliot huffed although the effect of the words was lessened when he flinched from the touch of alcohol. He stilled himself instantly, or tried to to the best of his abilities. He felt so cold.

"You're the hunter..." he muttered, obviously not going to make this easy. "Don't you know what happens to a werewolf... during full moon?"

"Yeah yeah." He rolled his eyes, cleaning him up before getting a good look. "I...I don't want to close you up just yet. I just have a feeling I shouldn't." He started pulling over everything he needed to bandage him up.

"I'm the hunter that told you I've only come across werewolves that eat people. You are of the non cannibal kind, remember? Come on Eliot, tell me please?" He started bandaging him up again, intending to help him move until he could get him buried under all the blankets.

"Why aren't you closin' it up?" Eliot couldn't imagine any reason someone would want to keep his bullet wound open but wasn't in position to argue. Honestly, if it wasn't for Dean, he may be dead already.

But he wished the hunter would take a clue and stop asking him things he didn't want to talk about.

Growling in annoyance, he tried to look over his shoulder again and stopped when his vision wavered dangerously. He rested his head back on his arms right after.

"I turn into a fuckin' beast. Happy?"

He was still thinking about it. Finally he shook his head, dropping the gauze back down. "No. I'm gonna close it up. It'll probably heal better once its closed. Just...I've never really dealt with worrying about silver poison. If it needs something more later we can figure it out." He picked up the curved needle and thread. "This is gonna hurt like a bitch and I'm sorry."

He looked down at him, frowning. "A beast? Like, half man half animal kind of beast? You're not being real specific. And I get you don't want to talk about it, but I want to know."

"Close it..." Eliot shut his eyes and nodded his head stiffly. "I can handle it."

The idea of poisoning was pretty easy to deal with. "If it's poison... just gotta purge it out. It's how you deal with all poisons." He didn't know if it worked the same with silver, he had never came across something like this before although he had known that touching that stuff was a bad idea. All this time, he avoided touching it if he could.

He grunted when the conversation circled back to him on the full moon again. "I turn into an animal, alright?" he growled, "A wolf."

"Stop getting so damn irritated." He growled back. That did narrow it down though. He tried to remember what he'd read about werewolves, especially ones that turned into animals. Damn it he knew he was going to have to call Sam on this one too.

He could call Sam and leave it at that. So long as he made sure he was away from the hotel because he knew his brother and he knew that as soon as he hung up he'd try to trace his cell phone. Maybe he could find out about what to do if Eliot did have serious silver poisoning.

"Relax." He growled, rubbing fingers over the back of his neck and squeezing lightly, massaging once he had the needle and thread ready. He focused though, eyes intent as he reached down and pinched the skin together so he could start stitching the wound shut.

"Can't," Eliot ground out through gritted teeth. This was what he was warning Dean about, and if he stuck around, it would only get worse as they progressed towards the full moon.

Yet one word and a touch to the nape of his neck and Eliot found that he was relaxing. It was as if Dean's word was infused with magic and came out as a command that tamed his wolf. Whatever it was, Eliot found some of that anger fading away.

"Damnit," he muttered, much less irritable than before. It was just in time for him to start tensing when he felt the first touch of the needle digging into his skin. To his credit, he managed to stay pretty still, flinching only once or twice when the needle went in. That wasn't to say he wasn't moving though as there was no controlling the shivering his worn body produced.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject