DEAN SHOULD NEVER PLAY RUGBY
hours later
DAWN POV
"…but Dawn!"
"No." For the fourth time.
"Why not?"
"I told you wh- You know what … You may be a hottie - but your worse than Andrew. If you don't shut up I'll give you a prizefighter's nose… Do. Not. Test. Me."
"Your already testy."
"Why do you insist on making everything more difficult?"
"ME!? All I wanna do is go out for a while. I'm going stir crazy."
"Your go-"
"Nibblet, I'll keep an eye on him. I gotta run out anyway." Spike cut in, from his spot on the floor.
"Okay." I didn't even glance up.
"Okay? Okay! That's it, he says he'll baby-sit and it's okay?
"Yeah." If I have to read this same passage again I'm going to-
"That's ridiculous! I'm- Oof!" I tackled him to the floor again
"Dude, never play football. Or rugby. Or- Nevermind. Go. Leave. Now. Please." I can't even make complete sentences right now. I roll off of him and just lay there a second with my arm over my eyes.
My back hurts. Dumb Warlock. I think I'm bleeding again.
LEAVE already so I can go check it in the bathroom. God, I hope Spike is too preoccupied with Sammy to notice the blood.
I pull my arm down off of my face.
Nope looking right at me. Freaky bloodhound.
Maybe he'll let it go.
"Nibblet, why don't you go take care of that shoulder. And no more rough housing, got it." No such luck.
"You hurt your shoulder?"
Suck it up. "Yeah a little." I sit up and then stand. As I walk toward the bathroom I grab the "Safety Duffle." Once in the bathroom, I get my shirt unbuttoned but leave it on. I pull out antiseptic, gauze and medical tape from the duffel.
I've avoided looking at it for the most part. Just one more scar - I should be used to them by now, but I'm not.
I pull my shirt off and it drops to the floor just as Dean enters and he stops dead in his tracks. Okay, I won't reach for anything to cover myself. Why should I, nothing he hasn't seen before, right? I meet his eyes in the mirror and his jaw clenches.
Then he steps up close behind me and gently begins the task of removing the makeshift bandage. He is careful not to abuse my skin anymore.
I hate medical tape.
There are two kinds: The gentle kind that doesn't leave your skin tacky, but in no way will stay on if you were to do anything strenuous like - breath on it. Or you could go with the heavy-duty crap (which I did) that sticks to your skin like superglue and leaves your skin so tacky that you could throw quarters at it and they would stick. What happened to medium strength?
I can't say it enough – I hate medical tape.
I watch his face as he looks at the wound and he flinches. Damnit. I knew something was wrong.
"It's not healing well is it?"
"No, it isn't" Never one to sugarcoat. "I had the same problem. I think it is the nature of the wound. I thought it was a health issue on my part. Like I was sick or something. Guess not." He met my eyes once more.
"Yeah, guess not." He reach passed me and turned on the hot water, then reached for the washcloths by the door. Never once moving his body away. When steam started rising the turned on the cold to moderate the water.
Standing there in only my jeans I begin to get a chill and my body shows evidence of it. At least that is what I tell myself is causing the gooseflesh and hardened nipples. It has nothing to do with the beautiful specimen breathing on my neck as he uses the washcloth to gently clean my wound. The contrast of the cool air and hot water is almost my undoing.
I watch in the mirror as he concentrates on my shoulder. He is very close and looking at the mending skin and is softly wiping the blood away – I can see it staining the white cloth.
I feel his breath on my neck and I shiver – this time when he looks up into the mirror I catch his glance down and know that he has seen my cough agitated state. Well this is embarrassing now isn't it?
He drops his gaze back to my shoulder, puts the cloth down on the ledge by the sink and grabs the antiseptic. He finished with that quickly and in no time at all he has me bandaged and taped (Oh, joy!) up. He meets my gaze once more for a long moment then he gives me a half smile and leaves the room.
What the hell?
I rush to get my shirt on and buttoned.
Just as I come out of the bathroom I see that Sammy is resalting the doorway and he looks up, "All better."
"Um, hum." I mumble. Well that little mystery isn't gonna be answered soon. On to the original I guess.
