A.N. So this is chapter 3! Hopefully you like :D A huge shout out to smalld1171 for being the best beta a girl can ask for! She's the reason why you don't have to switch tenses fifty times during the story! Well I'm off to work on chapter 4, this story is practically writing itself. :-)
Disclaimer: Nothing, but this idea is mine.
Red leaks between his fingers and he curses low in his throat, shucking his coat off and pushing into the gaping wound. The victim of said wound moans, her eyelids fluttering open as she locks confused, pained green onto his face.
"Bobby?" she gasps out, eyes moving from his face to their surroundings, trying to piece together what had happened.
"Yeah, I'm here."
"What happened?" She tries to push up on her forearms only to cry out and fall back to the ground.
"Don't move!" He hisses, hooking one arm under her to pull her up to his chest. "You ain't exactly covered in red paint here." He places her hands onto his balled up jacket, looking down at her.
"Ready?" she gives a nod and braces herself as Bobby pulls her up into his arms.
"Son of a," she pants, leaning her head into his shoulder.
"Yeah, didn't figure that was going to be much fun for you." He briefly connects his hand to her forehead. "But you don't seem to be running a fever, so hey, silver lining."
"What the hell happened?"
"You. Charged at a wendigo like an idjit." he grumbles, and shifts her closer to his body.
"Hey! This idiot stopped you from being skinned like a bear rug." she retorts. "What happened to the damn thing anyway?"
Bobby stops his trek back to the car to kick angrily at something solid on the ground. "I did." he mutters.
Ellen chuckles softly. "My hero."
Bobby turns his head away from her so she can't see the blush rising on his cheeks.
He places her gently in the car, instructing her to move the jacket so he can see how bad it is. When she pulls back the bloodied jacket, he sighs in relief that a fresh stream of red isn't pouring from the wound.
"Looks like it just got the surface, didn't nick any arteries or organs." He moves the jacket back in place with a pat to her hand.
"Lucky me." Ellen breathes and when Bobby goes around to the drivers side and watches her settle into the seat with barely a grimace, he can't help but think it was the other way around.
As many times he had thought about carrying Ellen into his house over the last couple of years it had never played out quite like this. She had winced halfway on the way to the house and Bobby had dug out a bottle of painkillers from his glove compartment, advising her to take one. She took a shaky breath and downed the pill with the rest of an almost empty water bottle.
Fifteen minutes later her eyes had lost all lucidity and she fell on him when he pulled open the door. It was hard enough trying to get her onto her wobbly feet, let alone moving her so she didn't pull at the tear in her stomach. Getting from the car to the house took twice as long as normal, with Ellen babbling nonsense even once he had her laid on the couch. He really didn't want to know where here mind went when on drugs.
"Jo!" she yells so suddenly as Bobby checks her injury that he jumps.
"What about Jo?" He watches as her head lolls towards him, eyes shifting between his face and the floor.
"She's...she should be...where is she?" Her gaze swings to the door and then back to Bobby.
"With your sister remember?" He places a hand on her knee to try and ground her. "You were helping me track a wendigo, we dropped her off two days ago."
She blinks slowly shaking her head. "Right. She's with Heidi." Her green eyes swing up to him. "Are you okay?"
He laughs under his breath. "Yes Ellen, I'm fine. Only thing that got hurt was my pride, you rushing in and saving me like I'm a damn princess."
She laughs too, smiling at him as he finishes cleaning the wound and pulls her shirt back down onto her stomach.
He goes to stand and she just gazes up at him, and he wonders exactly what her drug addled brain is thinking as she states. "You have the prettiest eyes." and proceeds to pass out into the side of his couch.
Bobby grins like a fool as he moves to cover the sleeping woman.
She sees Bobby go down and doesn't think much else other than 'Not another one.'
Next thing she knows she has hands all over her, assessing damage and an incredibly worried face swims in and out of her vision.
She asks "What happened?" and tries to push up so she can at least figure out where they are.
All she gets for her trouble is a piercing pain and one perturbed Bobby Singer ordering her not to move. Then she is hoisted up into his arms and informed the wendigo is dead in a voice so cold it scares her just a little bit.
The ride to the house isn't that long, but every jolt or dip in the road has her pressing her hand a bit tighter on the wound, and by the time they hit a pot hole she has to bite her lip to keep from crying out. Bobby pulls the car slowly over to the side and then digs out a pill bottle stating "It will take the edge off." as Ellen gulps down half a bottle of stale water.
He drives extra careful after that, Ellen drifting in and out of consciousness.
The door is pulled open as she falls into arms that wrap around her and a masculine voice murmuring
"I got ya." It's painfully reminiscent of the last time she had gotten hurt on a hunt, her husband carrying her back to their car, cocooning her into a heavy blanket as soon as she was positioned in the seat.
He talked to her the whole way to the hospital, even though he was a quiet man, because he knew when Ellen was hurt it unnerved her to be surrounded by silence. He held her hand after the surgery, saying "It's going to be okay darlin'. Barely even a bee sting."
The voice in her ear now asks "How are you feeling?"
She thinks she murmurs back "Fine." but her brain and mouth don't seem to be on speaking terms right now.
His hands are gentle, wiping away the blood and binding it closed with an ace bandage and Ellen watches with vision that is starting to go dim around the edges. He slides her shirt back down and moves to stand up. Ellen feels her head move up to follow him and she gets caught in his eyes, seemingly the only thing lit up with color in the whole room. Her lips part to say something and the man's mouth above her curls up in the beginning of a smile before her body tilts off to the side.
When she finally does wake up, her body has been spread out on the couch, and there is an indent of a body on the chair adjacent to her. Although, she realizes as she starts to sit up, no Bobby. The question in her mind is answered by him crossing from his kitchen into the living room, bearing two steaming cups of what smells like heaven.
"Was wondering when you were gonna wake up." he states, setting one of the cups close to her.
"Figured I'd wait till all the work was done." she replies, sipping at the top of her cup.
Bobby chuckles a rare sound from the man. Ellen thinks she would like to hear it more often.
"Just like a woman to let the man do all the work."
She smiles over the rim of the cup at him. "What can I say Singer, I'm old fashioned."
He chortles as he lifts his own cup to his face and says under his breath. "Or just old."
"I heard that!' she yells and launches one of the pillows at him.
Ellen could really get used to mornings like this.