Dean Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hunterusheroicus) wrote2013-03-27 11:54 pm
hunterusheroicus) wrote2013-03-27 11:54 pm
Dean Winchester/Eliot
Dean was pissed. They'd been on a case for a week and still hadn't figured it out. It seemed someone else was on the same case and the asshole seemed to be one step ahead of them. Finally they'd gotten a lead and were on their way to the house where the demon they were hunting was supposedly at. The poor sap being used as a meat suit was apparently some important businessman and the demon riding him around like his own personal pony was causing enough trouble to have made the papers a few times over.
He looked up at the house as they pulled up, eyes narrowing as he surveyed the layout. They got out and he popped the trunk, pulling out his pistol and the demon knife before sliding the blade into his boot. Once they were both loaded up they made their way to the door, pushing it open easily and heading inside. Dean immediately lifted the pistol, looking around before motioning to Sam that he was heading upstairs, being as silent as humanly possible.
He looked up at the house as they pulled up, eyes narrowing as he surveyed the layout. They got out and he popped the trunk, pulling out his pistol and the demon knife before sliding the blade into his boot. Once they were both loaded up they made their way to the door, pushing it open easily and heading inside. Dean immediately lifted the pistol, looking around before motioning to Sam that he was heading upstairs, being as silent as humanly possible.
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"Lets just put it this way!" He called out from the main room. "After you come to from passing out, I will knock the hell out of you. Tylenol or no you've never had silver poisoning and I doubt you've ever had to do something like this before. Stop trying to be a fucking tough guy."
He slowly brought everything back in, setting it all down so he wouldn't have to scramble around for anything.
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Dean... really had a point. But Eliot was highly uncomfortable from the thought of putting himself under drugs influence in a public place, protected by his Alpha or not. It just wasn't something he did unless he was holed up in one of his own safe spots.
Yet he didn't relish the idea of passing out only to come to to be beaten up again. From how annoyed Dean sounded, he couldn't be sure that the hunter wouldn't do it either.
"...what drugs did you get?" There was no harm in asking. He could ask and assess and know, just in case.
"And... help me into the bathtub. Easier in the tub... could get runnin' water too."
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"I would rather you be flat on your stomach on the floor actually. I can control where the acid goes this way. You lay in the tub and its going to go cascading all the way down your back and mix in with the water." He sorted everything out, brushing against Eliot's legs occasionally before looking at him.
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"You'll need to find a way to rinse it out. Lettin' it run will get messy too." Likely it would still eat a hole through him, but if done in small amounts, it might be manageable.
"And you need to avoid touchin' it." Unlike him, Dean wouldn't heal quite as well.
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He gave him a look. "Eliot I'm not going to touch it. Even if I do on accident it'll only be a little bit. Not gonna go spilling it all over me or anything." He hummed a bit, spreading out the towels on the floor before keeping a few off to the side.
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"This is all sorts of messed up," Eliot muttered as he laid down. He considered the hydrocodone. It was still addictive, but it wasn't one he used often before and as Dean said, he never had a procedure like this done before. He took the bottle and popped two of them as well.
"There, happy?" It wasn't likely it would kick in in time for this, but it would satisfy Dean at least.
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He filled the bowl with hot water, tossing a washrag in and letting it get wet. He got himself situated, folding over the belt and handing it to him. "You know you're gonna need this." He mumbled softly before he started in. He cut the stitches open, biting his lip as he picked up the jar of acid.
"At least this thing has an dropper. So I don't have to just pour it over you."
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He grunted softly at the sting of that but nothing strenuous happened yet.
"Alright," he told Dean around the width of the belt. Turning to glance at the hunter over the curve of his shoulder, he nodded tightly. Although Dean hadn't started doing anything yet, sweat already started dotting the forehead of his flushed face. He was still burning.
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"Alright here we go." He muttered before leaning forward and squeezing everything in the dropped out, straight into the bullet wound. He filled the dropper again almost immediately before repeating the action. He gave the acid a few moments to work, burning away any silver it found before he grabbed the wet washcloth, pouring the water in to delude it.
He rinsed as best as he could, frowning at the blood that was mixing with everything else before grabbing a clean towel, pressing it down hard over the wound. The water would keep the acid deluded enough to keep from burning his as he tried to clean it out.
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If there was any doubt that the belt was ruined previously, it was definitely ruined now as Eliot tried his best to use it to gag himself. His jaw was locked so hard that he might've bitten through one side of the leather.
Even though he tried to hold himself still for this, he still instinctively started thrashing when the pain became too much. The second eyedrop of acid had him crying into the belt again, but weaker in comparison to before. His thrashing also lessened too and so much sweat broke out that his skin was clammy to the touch.
He had stopped struggling when Dean started rinsing but just twitched as he tried to catch his breath. Fuck it hurt.
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Dean shifted, pressing down on the towel to force the liquid out, sopping it all up before pulling the towel back. He looked down into the wound, frowning as he watched it, praying that it would start knitting itself back together or show him some sign that he wouldn't have to do this again.
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Eliot didn't know, but he did know that it was better to be safe than sorry. If Dean thought there could be any chance that that hadn't burned away everything...
He whimpered when Dean pressed the water out and all but leaned his head into Dean's hand to seek any sign of comfort. Fuck, he had been through torture that wasn't this bad... He swore his vision had gone white previously.
But he pulled himself together.
"...again." He barely had the strength to make the muffled word heard around the belt, but he was determined.
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He leaned in, pouring the acid from the dropper in and then refilling it. Thankfully he could move quickly and he let both dropper fulls burn through him, tossing the dropper down without thinking as he pulled the bowl to him.
He let the acid burn just a few moments longer this time, praying to anyone who would listen that this did the trick. That this would allow Eliot to heal and get better because he didn't think he could watch him get any worse. Finally he took the wash cloth, pouring the water down into the wound again, rinsing it until it ran almost clear. The towel was back after that and he pressed, closing his eyes tightly.
"I'm sorry." He whispered, voice husky. He hurt. Well, he was upset because he'd had to hurt Eliot.
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He just laid there, eyes closed with unshed tears brimming around his lashes as he panted in short breaths as if even breathing too hard would make it hurt worse.
Barely alive, he made a soft noise like he was trying to grunt but came out as a whimper when Dean pressed into his wound again to clear out the last of the diluted acid. He couldn't even answer Dean if he wanted to, he was barely holding to consciousness as it was.
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He put the bottle of acid on the counter, closing it up tightly before throwing the towel he'd been using in the bathtub. "Come on." He whispered, slowly working Eliot up, even though he was barely conscious. "Gonna get you back in bed." He mumbled into his hair as he all but picked the werewolf up and took him back to the bed.
Finally he had him laid out on his stomach and he brushed his hair back, looking down at his face as the tears finally started spilling out of his eyes regardless of how hard he tried to blink them away. "Do you want me to stay in here with you?"
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When Dean murmured into his hair, he made a soft noise, could be protest, could be agreement, but he didn't actually struggle. One thing Dean might notice though was that his temperature seemed to have gone down marginally compared to before.
There was a moment when Eliot's eyes closed completely after he was helped onto the soft mattress, but at the question, his eyes opened back to their thin slivers.
"Stay," he whispered hoarsely. He just knew that he felt better with Dean there and whether it was from some bond or not, in his current state, he wasn't going to fight it.
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He closed his eyes, fingers rubbing down one of his sides while the other moves through his hair. "I'm sorry it had to hurt so damn bad though." He sighed softly.
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"It's fine," he whispered as his eyelids drooped down again. "You helped me get it out... thanks."
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"Who knows, by tomorrow you might not have a big hole in you. Then you can kick my ass for manhandling you all day." He smiled then, looking down at him for a moment. "We'll get you better...and get everything sorted out."
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"Too early to tell," he murmured, knowing that even with his sped up recovery, one night of sleep was too little to heal from something serious like this. He might've been able to heal had it been just a bullet hole, but after four rounds of acid, he had no doubt that it became something much more and much harder to deal with.
"Wound feels better... I think it worked." The whispered words were soft though, talking still took a lot out of him.
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He could feel himself getting sleepier and he hummed for a moment, soothing his fingers over Eliot's skin slowly, softly. He felt a bit boneless as he relaxed.
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