[LOGS]

[1inageneration]

[This is for random action/logging. Any time for Dawn+Housemates+Spuffy cast members, pre-arranged for others. Use at your will! 8D]

[Tampered logs]

1. Dawn/Buffy/Tosh → time after time
2. Buffy/Angel → darkness, darkness everywhere, do you feel all alone?
3. Buffy/Giles → privately divided by a world so undecided, and there's nowhere to go

Comments

how do you know that you're right if you're not nervous anymore

[shutupsammy]

Even with the sunglasses and dark Stanford hoodie on, the light that sneaks past the dark burns Dean's eyes, far too sensitive and having had no time to adjust to the new state. There's a backpack slung over one shoulder full of medical supplies (and he's had the paramedic training to use them-- he's had to, what with the way his dad used to go about hunting). He manages to find Buffy's house, squinting and out of breath in an odd way, only stumbling into objects and confused people a few times.

But when he opens the door with one clammy hand, nails suddenly less bitten-down than his bad habits usually keep them, he takes a step back as if he's been physically pushed. And then another, before forcing himself to walk inside and slam the door, realization coming in three parts.

1) Vampires don't need blood. They need the wacky spiritual life force energy that trickles through it. Which is why dead blood does the trick against them

how do you know that you're right if you're not nervous anymore

[1inageneration]

It hurts to move. Thank you, City.

See, being the Slayer is a dangerous job. Really dangerous. Sure, you get the 'strength and the skills' and maybe some other perks here and there, but that doesn't quite cover the mortal trauma slayers get put through. But it's alright, because they heal.

Except for today. Today? Today Buffy has every. single. wound. she's ever gotten on the job. But there are major ones. Vampire bites. Three different ones- the Master, Angel, Dracula. Really, it's starting to get old.

Sword wounds, stab wounds, various major cuts. Seems like everytime she looks there's a new one and just not enough bandage to get them all, and some of them are in hard to reach places too.

Ergo, her needing Dean to get his ass over here.

"Dean? I'm in the kitchen."

Slumped against the refrigerator, figuring that blood was easier to scrub out of tile than carpet. Seeing as there was a whole heck of a lot of it.

Great.

how do you know that you're right if you're not nervous anymore

[shutupsammy]

He's still wearing the glasses, even inside, and he runs to the sound of her voice so fast that he trips over the door strip while entering the room, skidding on his knees to a halt nearby her, pack dropping immediately to the floor as he opens it and rummages around, not even giving himself a chance to think about the fact that he's practically swimming in her bright, red blood, the smell of it so thick in his nostrils that he feels like he's breathing steam.

"Oh, fuck" he says, for her sake-- she's Alpo right now, not quite as bad as he was when the dogs came for him, but worse than Sam and-- "Buffy. What happened? Ain't you supposed to be like, super-healing or something? I don't know if...what are your thoughts on witches?"

And there it is. That strange full-body feeling, like he needs to stretch some kind of muscle he can't find.

how do you know that you're right if you're not nervous anymore

[1inageneration]

"What is that, a new fashion?" Buffy asks as he approaches her. Good thing she can't see his expression because of said glasses, but Dean kind of looks ridiculous. "And apparently? The curse kind of put a kibosh on my healing. Because then I wouldn't be holding a bleeding party." Buffy says, hedging maybe just a bit on bitter.

"Also, what? Witches? I like them, they're good and whatnot. Why?"

Oh please, Dean. Don't mention to her about how she looks worse than the dead guy. She might take offense.

how do you know that you're right if you're not nervous anymore

[shutupsammy]

There's a tacklebox sitting on the floor suddenly, top flipped open and revealing defribs, stitching needles and stitching thread, amongst other things. Dean stares at Buffy for a minute before taking the glasses off and shoving them into the pocket of Sam's now-bloodied hoodie. The next thing to come out of the bag is a pouch clearly made of goat skin, with delightful little sigils burned into the leather.

Dean's grip palpitates on the pouch when Buffy says 'bleeding,' and for God's sake, Buffy, stop saying that shit you are making it worse.

"Don't say bleeding. And don't...move. And don't get excited. You'll leak more. This shit might help some of the less...mortal-looking wounds."

how do you know that you're right if you're not nervous anymore

[1inageneration]

"Woah, Doogie Howser." Buffy breathes as she sees his box full of random assorted medical supplies, and laughs because it's so typical of her to laugh while experiencing mortal injury. This is the girl who teases and snarks at the vamps she fights, all for the fun of it.

"Don't say bleeding. O-kay. Any particular reason why, or are you just being wordist?"

She eyes the pouch of god-knows-what, but she trusts him.

"Okay."

how do you know that you're right if you're not nervous anymore

[shutupsammy]

Dean grits his teeth, before deciding this is a bad move. He can already feel the other teeth try to slide down, like sharks' teeth. So he just narrows his eyes, less at Buffy than at his luck, and he tugs the hoodie away from his neck to show off his still dripping neck wound, courtesy, he assumes, Gordon. At least, the vague memories that have been somehow implanted hint at good old Gordon.

"Sorry I didn't tell you. I can't--" say it out loud because then it's like admitting it, and Dean doesn't admit things.

He sprays her with the contents of the pouch, black and herbal and bile-like, starting with her legs. It does some good. Not nearly enough good, and God Ruby, be more useful.

how do you know that you're right if you're not nervous anymore

[1inageneration]

"You can't what? Actually, it's okay. You don't have to spill." Buffy sighs, noting the eye-narrow which probably means he's either pissed off or seriously uncomfortable. Dean Winchester, stop being so easy to read. Also learn some logic.

He sprays her with- whatever that is and she crinkles her nose slightly. "Do I want to know what's in that stuff?"

But it helps, it really does. Somewhat. The small scratches go away. There are still sucking chest wounds and neck wounds, but whatever.

"Thanks."

how do you know that you're right if you're not nervous anymore

[shutupsammy]

He reaches out a cold hand to wrap around hers, tugging gently to see if he can't coax her to help him move her into a nearby chair. He needs to do something. Get her ready to be moved to a hospital or whatever. It's weird, the way every time he thinks about taking her somewhere else, he feels like he won't let anyone else take her. And Jesus, Dean, she's your friend. Don't drag her up a tree like a leopard.

"I don't even know what the fuck is in that stuff, so. Probably nothing we want to think about. Black bile from a black cat or some shit. Frogs' blood. Eye of newt. We should get you off the floor. You're gonna get cold and go into shock after you've lost so much--"

The warmth of her hand is the straw that breaks the proverbial camel's back. He should have known to back off when he felt the growling start in the bottom of his chest, but too late for that. He hopes she took him seriously when he told her not to scream, because he can't imagine 'mouth like a bear trap' is very attractive.

"Don't scream. I don't want anyone coming

how do you know that you're right if you're not nervous anymore

[1inageneration]

"Blood?" she suggests helpfully, but the clamminess of Dean's hand is what sets her off. That and the aversion (or avoidance) or blood, coupled with a name. Gordon. Hadn't Sam told her about a guy named Gordon? A hunter who got turned

"...You're a vampire." she breathes, not exactly fearfully because she's used to this sort of crap happening. And wow, this is ironic. Bleeding, practically helpless Slayer, vampire. Fate's a bitch and she has the worst luck in the world.

"So what, are you gonna bite me?

how do you know that you're right if you're not nervous anymore

[shutupsammy]

Despite the dire situation-- maybe because he seems to be in one once a week anymore --Dean rolls his eyes deeply, an expression ruined only slightly by light-reflective eyes and a mouth full of pin-tipped teeth.

"Am I gonna-- don't be a bitch, Buffy. I'm undead not evil." He politely doesn't mention that it's nothing but willpower versus instinct keeping that from happening. He always was one to bet the farm on a decent outcome.

"What I'm gonna do is help get you into a chair so I can put a blanket over you and stitch you up. Do you have one anywhere we can ruin?"

how do you know that you're right if you're not nervous anymore

[1inageneration]

"Where I come from, they're pretty much the same thing. With a few exceptions." the sleepy smile and slurred words are back now. Passing out seemed like kind of a nice thing to do right about now. "And it was a joke. You should...should....relax."

She points to a kitchen chair, sitting hey, right over there. "That might be a good place to start. It's plastic anyways."

how do you know that you're right if you're not nervous anymore

[shutupsammy]

He takes a few quick, deep breaths, trying to calm down and gain back some level of control. And it works. Because he's not a monster; he tells himself so. The teeth sink back into their sheaths and the glazed look goes away, replaced by a downturned, serious frown and a worried expression.

Dean bites his lip and wraps one arm under her knees and one around her back. When he lifts, he does so carefully, and a part of him wonders as he positions Buffy into the chair, whether she's light because he's different or because half of Buffy is still on the floor by the fridge.

Either way, he backs up slowly, keeping his eyes focused on her face, which is even more pale that it was a few seconds ago-- right. The medical supplies. He should go for them.

"I am totally relaxed. You relax. We're gonna fix this and nothing is gonna happen to you. Okay?"

how do you know that you're right if you're not nervous anymore

[1inageneration]

"You don't have to handle me like I'll break or something, you know." Buffy quips, but mostly because she hates feeling like this. Not being able to take care of her own problems, feeling helpless- like her calling was some sort of wrong dial or something. Thanks, City. So she quips. And she covers it up with snark and glib, and hides it probably better than anyone else knows.

"Okay. And- thanks. But no hospitals, okay? I'm not going to a hospital." and geez, even wounded, Dean had better take her on her word.

She looks down, noting how awkward this is.

"I'm relaxed. Did you need me to-" the fabric of her shirt was soaked through anyways, but she pushes it up just a little bit in case that'll help.

how do you know that you're right if you're not nervous anymore

[shutupsammy]

"No hospitals," he says, voice honest and relaxed but with an undercurrent of worry. "I fucking hate hospitals. You know what hangs out in hospitals? Reapers and ghosts and all manner of shit-I-don't-want-around-my-dyin'-body. Not that's you're--"

He clears his throat and shakes his head, reaching a cold hand to lift her shirt away from her chest and slitting it up the middle with a stiletto he's had hidden in his boot. He does his best to pretend he's being mature and full of decorum about it, but the look on his face is clear enough to suggest the blush that would be across his cheeks and nose if he wasn't a goddamn vampire.

"That is-- that is fucking nasty. How in the world did you get that?"

how do you know that you're right if you're not nervous anymore

[1inageneration]

She's flushing, and the fact that she's paper-pale from the goddamn blood loss makes that even more obvious. Great. Wow. Well isn't this awkward. But hey, kudos to Dean for keeping his cool somewhat. She glances back at him swiftly then looks away.But hey, maybe Story Time will clear away some of that awkwardness.

"I got..staked. I was fighting a vampire and then he sort of..stabbed me with my own stake. That's going down in history as my biggest fail ever." she sighs with a shrug, and not gonna lie, she feels maybe just a little bit naked right now.