I blinked and looked at Cas, "Did you just…knock her out?"
He nodded. "It is more effective than a mix of pain killers and alcohol." He informed me.
I shrugged, I'm sure it was…but normally pain killers and alcohol was all we had when it came time to being stitched up. I placed a clean towel on my lap, under Taylor's…Sam's arm.
"Can you do the same for Sam if he wakes up?" I asked quietly.
Cas nodded. "If you want me to."
I nodded, then focused on the task at hand. "I really should wash my hands first." I commented, realising I was still filthy from the fight. The last thing I wanted was to infect the freshly cleaned wound when I was stitching.
"One moment." Cas said and picked up the bucket of dirty water and the towel and took them into the bathroom again.
He returned with clean water, soap and another clean towel. I smiled and used the soap and water to scrub my hands and arms. Once they were clean enough I dried them on the towel. "Where are you getting all these towels from?" I asked, realising he must have brought out at least four clean towels by now. I was sure there were only two in the bathroom when we left this morning…
"I'm weakened…I'm not useless." He informed me, sounding so huffy I had to resist the urge to laugh.
I put up my hands in a gesture of surrender, "Sorry. So, you're…mojo-ing them clean? Like you do with your clothes?"
He nodded, taking the towel from my and returning it to clean with a flick. I smiled, "Good thinking. Thank you." I was sure easier than trying to avoid questions when getting excessive numbers of towels from the front office…been there, done that.
I carefully threaded the needle that Cas had brought over and began making a neat row of stitches along the wound. It was always easier stitching someone who was unconscious. Unfortunately it was a luxury we didn't often get, usually one of us was doing our best to sew quickly while the other was doing their best to hold still through the pain.
At least the Winchester genes had given us one blessing. Neither of us scared easily. Despite the ridiculous number of wounds we had endured over the years, many bad enough to need stitches, we had nothing more than faint lines to show for it. If you weren't paying attention you could miss them entirely a lot of the time. This wound would be little more than a memory in a month or too.
I could only hope that Taylor was so blessed. The wounds on her body were much worse than this one…not to mention significantly more numerous. There was a good chance that she was going to be left with some pretty horrific reminders of today's ordeal.
I guessed that she could at least take some comfort in the fact that she did not have to endure the wounds being inflicted. She'd still have to deal with the healing though. I knew Sam would rather stay in her body until the pain had gone…but I doubted she wanted to hang around that long. She had a life to get back to.
Which reminded me, we'd have to help her think of a cover story tomorrow. I sighed, for some of the people we'd encountered over the years not being able to tell anyone what happened to them was just as stressful as the actual experience. But we knew what happened when people started telling the truth. At best they got shunned by society…at worst, locked up in a psychiatric facility. I didn't want either for Taylor.
I looked up to see Cas watching me intently as if waiting for me to finish my train of thought rather than interrupting me.
"Would you like me to start cleaning Sam's wounds?" He asked. "Then you can start stitching them when you are finished there." He no doubt knew that I would not rest myself until I had finished taking care of Sammy, no matter how exhausted I was.
Still, I hesitated. Taking care of Sammy was my job, and I didn't like passing off that job to anyone…no matter how much I trusted them. But I knew that the risk of infection, or further infection, as he was already showing signs of a fever, would be lower the sooner the wounds were properly cleaned.
Eventually I nodded, "Yes. Thank you…again."
"It's no problem." We shared a smile for a moment, then he once again changed the water in the bucket before starting to unwrap and clean each of Sammy's wounds.
I watched him for a few moments, then continued my careful stitches.
Once I had finished closing the wound I dabbed on a little disinfectant, once again glad that Taylor was unconscious…the stuff hurt like hell. Then placed a layer of gauze over the wound and wrapped it in place with a bandage.
I gave a satisfied nod. I wasn't kidding when I told her I could stitch wounds as well as a doctor. I'd had a lot of practice.
I looked over at Cas, "Can you help me up?" I asked. It really was frustrating not being able to walk around the room without assistance, but my ankle really was painful and I didn't want to increase the healing time any more than I had to. As soon as I had finished patching up Sammy I would be taking a good dose of pain killers and alcohol myself.
Cas wiped his hands dry and then flicked the towel clean again before coming to help me. "Now you're just showing off." I muttered good naturedly, and he gave me another one of those not quite an eye roll looks.
He helped me get into a position on the bed that would allow me to keep my foot up while still being able to stitch the wounds on Sam's legs…Taylor's legs. I washed my hands again and then began to stitch.
Hi everybody! So glad you all enjoyed the last chapter so much!
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