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Characters: Zuko burning_prince ,Dean 100deaths_a_day
When: May 11th, following this
Location: Outside Dean's room.
Summary: Zuko's slightly less-than-perfectly-planned idea to help Dean cope.
Rating: Uh... blood?
It wasn't hard to figure out how to fix Dean's problem.
All he needed was blood-- fresh, human blood. If Zuko could get it to him right after it had been drawn, then the vampire should be okay. He couldn't give a lot, and he probably shouldn't give it too often, but a little was better than nothing, right? It should take the edge off his hunger, and help him control himself better.
Admittedly, Zuko was not in the best condition to be doing what he was doing. He'd found a cup in halfway-decent condition in the kitchen, despite the paranoia of hearing strange footfalls in the halls just out of sight, and taken it to the lake to clean it out before drying it with firebending. As soon as he was back in his own room, he got out what he needed-- his dagger, a plain, clean cloth, and some bandages.
Holding his arm up so that his elbow was just above the cup, he took the pearl-handled dagger, and carefully drew it lightly across his own skin, searching for the right spot; he wanted to avoid going too deep or cutting into the muscle, after all. Then, slowly, he pressed the tip in until the skin split and the blood began to flow.
The wound was only an inch or two long, deep enough to allow the blood to flow freely. He didn't react as he watched the cup slowly fill, only watched carefully.
He wasn't able to fill it completely, though. Two weeks on a raft with barely any food or water, two more weeks in this barren manor, and Zuko wasn't exactly at his body's peak. The cup was barely half full when he could feel himself growing dizzy. He reached up with his free hand, grimacing-- now came the hardest part.
With a tiny, concentrated flame from his fingertip, he sealed the wound shut.
The pain was terrible; he was shaking afterwards, even though the wound wasn't all that large, and on top of the dizziness from blood loss and the nausea from the smell of burning flesh that he never really got used to, he found himself slowly collapsing forward, bracing himself on his elbows before he could knock the glass over. He couldn't afford to waste it-- slowly, still shaking and sweating, he moved the cup to the side, out of harms way, then lay down, exhausted.
...He couldn't wait. Gold eyes flickered open to stare at the blood-- he couldn't wait, Dean had specifically said he needed fresh blood. He couldn't let it go bad.
As soon as he felt stable again, he sat up gingerly, and grabbed the cloth to clean himself up with. Then he bandaged the cauterized wound, and after tying the bandage off, picked up the cup, and started down the hall.
He recalled the videos that had appeared on his Blackberry over the past couple of days-- people killed by that strange attacker that couldn't seem to be killed. If there was ever a bad time to be attacked, for Zuko, that would've been it. Yet, somehow-- Somehow, he made it all the way down the hall to Dean's room, without incident, although by the time he reached Dean's door, he was nearly exhausted, sitting himself down against the wall.
He knocked on the door behind him with his knuckles. "Dean," he called hoarsely. "Get out here, I got something for you."
When: May 11th, following this
Location: Outside Dean's room.
Summary: Zuko's slightly less-than-perfectly-planned idea to help Dean cope.
Rating: Uh... blood?
It wasn't hard to figure out how to fix Dean's problem.
All he needed was blood-- fresh, human blood. If Zuko could get it to him right after it had been drawn, then the vampire should be okay. He couldn't give a lot, and he probably shouldn't give it too often, but a little was better than nothing, right? It should take the edge off his hunger, and help him control himself better.
Admittedly, Zuko was not in the best condition to be doing what he was doing. He'd found a cup in halfway-decent condition in the kitchen, despite the paranoia of hearing strange footfalls in the halls just out of sight, and taken it to the lake to clean it out before drying it with firebending. As soon as he was back in his own room, he got out what he needed-- his dagger, a plain, clean cloth, and some bandages.
Holding his arm up so that his elbow was just above the cup, he took the pearl-handled dagger, and carefully drew it lightly across his own skin, searching for the right spot; he wanted to avoid going too deep or cutting into the muscle, after all. Then, slowly, he pressed the tip in until the skin split and the blood began to flow.
The wound was only an inch or two long, deep enough to allow the blood to flow freely. He didn't react as he watched the cup slowly fill, only watched carefully.
He wasn't able to fill it completely, though. Two weeks on a raft with barely any food or water, two more weeks in this barren manor, and Zuko wasn't exactly at his body's peak. The cup was barely half full when he could feel himself growing dizzy. He reached up with his free hand, grimacing-- now came the hardest part.
With a tiny, concentrated flame from his fingertip, he sealed the wound shut.
The pain was terrible; he was shaking afterwards, even though the wound wasn't all that large, and on top of the dizziness from blood loss and the nausea from the smell of burning flesh that he never really got used to, he found himself slowly collapsing forward, bracing himself on his elbows before he could knock the glass over. He couldn't afford to waste it-- slowly, still shaking and sweating, he moved the cup to the side, out of harms way, then lay down, exhausted.
...He couldn't wait. Gold eyes flickered open to stare at the blood-- he couldn't wait, Dean had specifically said he needed fresh blood. He couldn't let it go bad.
As soon as he felt stable again, he sat up gingerly, and grabbed the cloth to clean himself up with. Then he bandaged the cauterized wound, and after tying the bandage off, picked up the cup, and started down the hall.
He recalled the videos that had appeared on his Blackberry over the past couple of days-- people killed by that strange attacker that couldn't seem to be killed. If there was ever a bad time to be attacked, for Zuko, that would've been it. Yet, somehow-- Somehow, he made it all the way down the hall to Dean's room, without incident, although by the time he reached Dean's door, he was nearly exhausted, sitting himself down against the wall.
He knocked on the door behind him with his knuckles. "Dean," he called hoarsely. "Get out here, I got something for you."