driftfleet | [voice.] stop poking your augments???????

Entry tags:

[voice.] stop poking your augments???????

Who: Sam and Dean
Broadcast: Sam (with Dean in the background); fleetwide panic! :)
Action: There will be a post-incident section on the Red Fish! Read below.
When: After this. Warning for sorta suicide-y augment removal attempt. It's miserable.

(As a note, this entry has suicide-y augment removal attempt talk, too.)

[VOICE.]

[Sam is currently busy wrestling a heavily bleeding brother and is also trying to work a network device, so sorry if his shaky voice entry is a little concerning. He'd text it if it wasn't, y'know, his friggin' brother bleeding out in front of him. If he sounds like he's barely masking his own panic, that's because he is. He's doing pretty okay, okay. He's good at being calm under pressure, though it's a bit more of a challenge when it's Dean in danger.]

This is Sam on the Red Fish — Coil, Beverly, Allen, Jennifer, um...! Anyone with healing or medical experience or lab support, I need — [Dean can be heard in the background, pissed off and maybe a little sluggish from, y'know, the usual bullshit: "I don't need to be saved, goddammit-"] I need someone here. Someone's bleeding a lot from a, an injury to the neck, and I can't —

[A breath, to calm himself.]

My brother's hurt really bad. I'll try to patch it up, but I need — help.

["Son of a bitch, I swear- it's not- I don't need help!"]

Shut up —

[He cuts the feed.]

[ACTION (LATER ON)]

[After Dean's been laid down in the Red Fish's medical section (and here Sam thought the Coil and Winter fiasco would be the only reason he'd need to see people laid up recently), Sam can be found with his brother. He's not taking his eye off him, not for a goddamn while, trust him. There are a few ways people can run into the two brothers the next few days: one, they could run into Sam while Dean's drugged up and asleep. He's sitting firmly with his arms folded, blood still on his clothes and exhaustion in his expression. Dude should really sleep.

Or - once Dean's awake and mildly alert, they may find the rare occasion where Sam's accidentally fallen asleep beside the guy, buried face-first in the bed sheets or tipped backward and snoring on occasion. He doesn't mean to even go to sleep, but it's about on par with falling asleep because Lucifer's hallucinations won't leave you alone. No, okay, this is better than that, but. Anyway. He's out.

Or, if you want to bother both of them at the same time, it's easy to walk in and find them afterward. Sam's maybe got a book, or maybe it looks like they've just had a glaring match, or something. Probably bickering. Or probably intense family conversation they're quick to mask when a visitor comes in. Let's be real, though, Dean's gonna probably hate your dumb hospital visit.

Sam would just like to say: shut up and take your friggin' blood.]

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Oh yeah. He goes cross-eyed every few minutes.

[Sam is just being a butthead to Dean, but it's not like you can blame him.

He's at least being lighthearted. This time, anyway.]

Dean, I guess this, uh. This is the first time you've met Misty that you'd remember, right?

[He thinks they'd met before... Surprisingly uneventful, for a witch and a hunter.]

[He nods, mostly to himself since she can't really see it; he just wants to keep a level head, alright.]

I'll keep pressure. We'll be here ready for you.

Thanks, Hermione.

[It really, really means a lot to him. That much is clear.]

Thank me if you need me. Not for the offer alone.

[ Not surprisingly, it doesn't take Hermione too long to make her way over; she's rushed as much as she can and she looks particularly harried as she makes her way up to where Sam told her they'd be. She's practically jingling with vials and potions, and her wand is in hand already as she moves inside, breathing out and looking around before she sees him. ]

Sam.

[ There's no hesitation; she walks over and does her best to take charge. ]

Show me?

[once things calm down - where did this six back of beer come from? Who could have shown up with this precious gift without alerting either of them?

The note might be a hint:

Thought you might need this. Don't share with the squirrel, he can't afford to lose any more brain cells.

♥]

[ Rude. That is Rude, Sam Winchester. ]

I do not. [ He doesn't, he swears, he's not that doped up. If anything, he'd be happy with more drugs but let's not say that out loud.

..... Anyway ...... Dean nods once or twice, trying to think over the people he's met and coming up fairly blank. He's pretty sure that this is the first time he's met Misty, so he's just gonna run with that and see where it gets him. ]

Yeah, i'm thinkin' this'd be introduction numero uno.

... Thanks for not needing a thanks, then.

[He's gotta go now, but.

He'll remember.]

[It's so weird to be standing with Hermione and all that. Or it would be, if Sam wasn't half out of his mind with concern. Not that she had to look at his face to know he had a horrible day - there's blood all over his shirt and pants, all over his hands thanks to having no real time to scrub them clean yet. That can wait until his brother isn't so pale and sluggish and stupid. Stupid bastard. Friggin' asshole. He breathes momentary relief and motions her to follow to the medical area where he's got Dean on the bed.

Laid out and bloody himself, on his stomach with the wound on his neck covered.

Probably... not doing so hot, one could see.]

Dean.

[Sam leans in, putting his hand to Dean's shoulder, firm but still gentle in nature.]

Dean, a doctor from the other ships is here to help.

Edited 2016-08-26 01:03 (UTC)

[... Ha.

Tired but grateful, he cracks open a beer.

Maybe... he'll have to return the favor sometime.

Thanks, Meg.]

[ A doctor. Oh. Wonderful. ]

Sign me up.

[ Which is to say, that Dean's not interested. He's never been overly keen on doctors, or the medical community at large if only because he doesn't put much trust in, well, anything. And despite the fact that he's stupid and pale and sluggish, Dean is more than ready to hop his sorry ass off the bed and once again, not have anything to do with this. This was his decision and he'd more than willingly do it all over again without Sam's interference, and the fact that even more people are interfering?

Not his jam.

Which is why he's more than happy to try and finagle his way off the bed without flailing too much. A process that is more than a little difficult when his head is throbbing harder than it should be. But it should still, somehow, be easy to try and topple himself over the side, or wrench his way around so he can get back up to his feet. ]

You were on my ship before, the Windrose. But then you went home. Sometimes people forget when they come back, so don't worry, no offense taken that you don't know me.

[She sets down her jar of dirt so she can properly shake his hand.]

I'm Misty Day.

[Sam smiles a bit, the panic of before at least eased despite the weariness he's sporting right now; you're a real worry-making machine, big brother.]

She's a good friend. And a great gardener.

[Might as well throw in a few charming comments, for all her effort coming to visit. He owes her for any level of kindness right about now when things seem so... shitty, yeah. Shitty is the word.]

[You were about to say you don't have to come, weren't you. Maybe. The idea makes her smile faintly.]

What, so you're saying I can kick him and he can't resist? [She's joking. There's a faint set of echoing clangs as she docks the shuttle, guess who.] I didn't rush. I took time to be responsible at the bar and everything.

[You've got like a minute to finish changing your shirt, you liar, before she's letting herself into the Red Fish and heading for the medical bay.]

[ Hermione doesn't bother commenting on the ridiculousness of the lack of enthusiasm right now - and she's not really a doctor, not technically, despite her years and years of experience in healing and first aid. Healing someone on the battlefield isn't the same as healing them on the ship, and while her potions seem to be working... She's still a little nervous about it. Taking a deep breath, she moves and settles down, tilting his head up and shifting forward. ]

Oh, for goodness sake, sit still or I'll summon some ropes to make you lie down!

[ She doesn't sound particularly happy, and her eyes narrow before she leans forward. ]

I'm going to try and make sure this doesn't hurt, but if you're struggling then you're only going to hurt yourself. [ And then, aside, to herself; Boys.

First and foremost, Hermione shifts up to her knees and draws out her wand, reaching to take the fabric away from Dean's neck. A flick of her wrist and a Tergeo cleans up most of the blood around the wound, leaving her free to fumble for her bag and start dragging out bandages and proper medical tape. God, Hermione wishes she had her healing magic now, the stupid bubble would make this so easy, but instead she takes a deep breath and moves closer. She has to keep whispering the spell to keep his neck clear, but then she flicks her wrist again, repeating the same spells that Madam Pomfrey had used before to stitch up the wound.

Turning her head to Sam, she shifts back. Her hands are bloody, and she winces, a little awkward - the cut still looks garrish, and messy and absolutely disgusting, but at least it's stopped bleeding and the body can do it's natural work. She can't magic everything away, after all. ]

I have some, um, potion - it'll bring back his blood. And some painkillers, they're just from the lab.

[ Oh. Yeah. That. That's only mildly awkward, but at least he's drugged up enough to actually cringe from the sheer weirdness of it. Usually he wouldn't be quite so, uh, expressive. But you've caught him on a good day. Or a really bad one. ]

Then I take it I don't gotta introduce myself. [ Which is still, y'know, strange. ]

But hey- gardeners are worth their weight in gold.

[ True facts. Dean knows how important they are, he ain't gonna deny that one. ]

[Well at least this time he's not flirting majorly with her. She'll take the drugged up expressions - it's easier to deal with. She beams at both brothers.]/

And I'm a healer too! I brought something to help with the wounds.

[Sam's there to keep Dean in line, if he needs it — As much as he wants Dean to be comfortable during this whole thing, he also knows if they give Dean too much time to assess the idea of being treated for his injuries he might get a little too combative. He keeps his hand on Dean's shoulder, but it's also just to let Dean know he's there. As if he could expect Sam to vanish. He's not going anywhere.

Now he wishes his brother would get on the same page, there.

Thanks.

Once the wound looks — well. Better, he looks up at her gratefully.]

Yeah, um. That'd be good. Shock from blood loss would be bad.

[Dean don't you even screw with this set-up, you need blood.]

[Sam smiles a thin, long smile, looking over at Dean.

Eyebrows raised.

Well, big brother?]

... Try not to kick him until he's a little more stable?

[He clears his throat.]

It'd be nice to have someone to switch off with...

[Because god knows he's tired and just wants to sleep. She'll find him sitting beside Dean's bedside when she finally arrives, Dean passed out and Sam on the verge of following suit. His head jerks up and he stands up, as if trying not to look like he is halfway into lala land.

... The shirt is gone, at least? But the pants are still, um. Bloodstained. So.]

Hey.

[ Dean does something completely out of the ordinary, at least for his behavior as of late. He makes the peculiar choice of looking over to Sam first, though his expression near shouts something akin to insecurity, though it comes off as utter displeasure.

Sam, why are you trusting this.

Why are you okay with it.

Why. ]

Do I get a preview of what i'm signing up for.

[ How he got embroiled himself in magic quite so suddenly, Dean doesn't know. But he's never been fond of it, never been okay with this kind of thing, and even though Sam seems to have moved on completely to accepting things that Dean still doesn't, all he wants to do is tumble off the table and walk away. It's not even entirely the fact that he doesn't like the medical community, it's the sudden realization that magic is going to be tossed near effortlessly in his face and he'd really rather it not be.

But- the threat of being tied down in an effort to deal with him is equally unpleasant. Doesn't mean he doesn't want to try though.

His first inclination is to kick someone, anyone, possibly in the head. And while he doesn't, the fact still remains that he'd like to do it something fierce. And being both quiet and forced to lie still is enough to make him near want to pull out his hair, a kind of frustration that he doesn't exactly know how to put words to when it goes against all the things he believes.

At least the whole thing is over relatively painlessly (and it likely helps that he can't see any of it), even if he doesn't like a single second of it. Though he can't lie about the fact that he appreciates it, whoever this is. And appreciates the hand on his shoulder reminding him that Sam hasn't truly gone anywhere - that he hasn't lost everyone - a fact that he still wants to shove away out of paranoia and a need to keep everyone fiercely at a distance.

But he really would like to get up now. Can he get up now? He's going to try to get up now. And he's going to grumble in the process, practically trying to shake everyone off. Let's watch him near fall off the bed. ]

I'm not gonna go into shock.

If you want, I don't mind, though I don't exactly know how I'd show you.

[he is not exactly known for his warm, friendly bedside manner... but hey, he heard that there was an incident involving a lot of blood and two of his crew, so he figured he aught to swing by and see how everyone's doing.

so he shows up in the doorway, absolutely wearing a full face of skull makeup. just so that no one gets any ideas about Literal Death appearing to take them away--he knocks on the doorframe to announce that he's here.]

Edited (look icons just work with me here) 2016-08-29 04:49 (UTC)

[Nami leans in the doorway for a moment, giving Dean an assessing look before her attention turns to Sam, and her nose wrinkles.]

Shirt and pants, huh? You need a shower.

[And then softer, more unhappily:] He bled a lot.

[From the neck. That's a little frightening.]

[A-aha. He winces, but tries to keep that pleasant demeanor.]

We both tend to do that. It's okay — everything's under control now.

Just needs a little rest and... anything else can be figured out after that.

[AKA he has no fucking clue how to proceed from here.]

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