A Caring Hand
Title:A Caring Hand (AO3)
Author:evelyncarver
Recipient: tifaching
Rating:Teen
Warnings:mild gore, medical procedures
Author's Notes: Thanks to immortal_jedi for the beta.
Summary: Ellen knows the Winchester boys, especially Dean, won't take any mothering from her. Well, screw that, they're hurt and she's going to give it to them anyway.
Summergen 2014 Fic #2
--
It was the banging that woke her and the light coming in from the hall that meant something was wrong. Ellen reached for the gun beside her bed and left the light in her room off. If Jo had finally found her way home, she would have been quiet and she would have known better than to turn on the lights in the bar. Ellen stepped into her jeans and clicked her off gun's safety.
Ellen stopped in the hallway. The banging had stopped and she could hear quiet voices and soothing tones coming from the kitchen shared between the house in the back and the bar in the front. It could have been Ash, he'd been off doing something on his own, he didn't tell her what he did, but he always came back with a butt load of pot. He came back with crack once and she'd kicked him out for two weeks.
"Hey kid, it's no big deal, you're gonna be fine."
That voice was familiar, Ellen lowered her gun, but she didn't put the safety back on. She stepped into the kitchen and gasped.
It looked like a murder scene. No, it looked like someone had dumped a bucket of blood over her kitchen table. Sam Winchester was laying on it and blood was dripping from his head down to her nice clean floor. Thank god the health inspector had just visited. She was going to have to bleach the entire place.
"Dean, Sam?" Ellen came into the room proper. Dean was standing over his brother, pressing one of her dishtowels to Sam's head. The white cloth was soaked with blood and Dean barely ever spared her a glance.
"Hey Ellen." Sam tried to sit up and she caught the smile on his face before Dean pushed him back down.
"What'd ya do to yourself?" She put a pot of water on the stove to boil and pulled the first aid kit down off the wall. It had much more than was required in it.
"I'm okay." Sam murmured.
"Yeah, you're gonna be fine. It's no big deal." Dean lifted the towel up and Ellen pulled gloves on before probing at the edges of the wound. It was deep enough and long enough to warrant stitches and she covered it back up before returning to the kit.
"Is there something in the area?" Ellen asked as she drew up a syringe of lidocaine and ripped open a sterile package of sutures and needles.
Dean shrugged. "Don't think so."
"Yeah? Little poke Sam," Ellen injected the numbing agent and started cleaning the blood off of Sam's face. "Then how'd this happen?"
"Not his fault." Sam slurred, the medicine was taking effect quickly and his lips twitched as he tried to speak.
"I hit him with the trunk." Dean mumbled and tried to take the suture line from her.
"Wrong place at the wrong time huh?" Ellen elbowed Dean out of the way and started placing the stitches. She could see Dean shaking and there was no way she was letting him near his brother with a needle with his hands shaking like that
"Yeah." Sam flinched as she pulled the line of suture through his skin and tied off the first stitch. He stayed still through the rest of them and she used another pile of alcohol prep pads to clean the line of stitches after she was through with them.
Ellen striped off her bloody gloves. "You stay here. Dean, help him sit up." She ordered and turned off the pot of boiling water on the stove. She measured out a few cups for instant soup and grabbed a can of tomato juice from the refrigerator. "Drink that up."
Sam took the can from her and sipped at it, making a face but not protesting.
"You okay there for now?" Ellen asked. Sam's feet didn't hang off the end of the table, something none of the beds or couches in the back could promise.
"Mmm." Sam lowered himself back down to the table.
"Good." Ellen grabbed Dean's shoulder and she didn't miss the wince he tried to hide when she steered him out of the kitchen and into her living room. "Show me." She ordered, crossing her arms over her chest.
"What?" Dean shrugged and she noticed the tension in his face as the movement hurt.
"Oh spare me the act. Do I need to cut your clothes off and search you?"
Dean grinned. "Wow Ellen-"
"Save it. C'mon, sit down and let me help you." She pushed him backwards onto the couch. "I'm getting the kit. You better be ready when I come back."
He was still sitting on the couch when she returned, even if he was still fully dressed and sweating in his leather jacket.
"Jacket off." Ellen ordered and put on a fresh pair of gloves.
He didn't say anything, just offered his left hand. "I can't."
Ellen hissed. The fingers were red and swollen. Several of them bent in odd directions. "Give it here." She sat next to him on the couch and pushed his sleeves up to his elbow before feeling carefully down to his wrist.
"So what actually happened?" She asked before running her fingers across his palm and palpating the lowest set of knuckles. Dean hissed and tried to pull his hand away but she held it still. "Tell me, focus on something else."
"We were arguing," Dean said haltingly as she probed at the joints in his fingers and squeezed the tips to check for blood flow. "He tried to get something out of trunk when I tried to close it."
"Yeah?" Ellen looked in her kit. There were enough splints for the more broken fingers, the ones she couldn't get away with taping together. "How'd this happen?" She cracked an ice pack.
"I caught the trunk, I was too late." Dean grunted as she pressed the ice pack into his palm and forced his fingers down over it. "He gonna be okay?"
"He'll be fine. No big deal, just a couple of stitches. Now you. . ."
"I'm good." Dean paled as she pulled out splints and tape. "Just fine." He tried to tug his hand away again.
"Shush. The both of you are staying here tonight. Maybe tomorrow too. Ash ain't around right now. You came to see him?"
"Yeah."
"Okay." Ellen took her gloves off. "You gotta lose the jacket and the shirts. It'll be easier before. C'mon on." It was like dressing a toddler. He protested every movement and whined when she jostled his broken hand. She saved the jacket and his button-down but the shirts below got the scissors treatment.
"I'm good." Dean protested when she put on another pair of gloves and drew up a syringe full of painkillers.
He was pale and shivering and she wiped a spot clean on his arm, ignoring his complaints. "Hush, it'll make it easier." She injected the medicine and cracked a fresh ice pack for his fingers. The swelling was already going down and none of the bones were sticking out. "Just sit back, close your eyes." She helped him shift to lean back on the couch and he let his head tip back to rest against the wall.
"I'm starting now." Ellen said quietly before tugging his index finger straight. He grunted and bit his lip but didn't complain when she clapped a splint around his finger and taped it down. His middle and ring fingers weren't as bad and she bound them together from base to tip. "Almost done."
She must have been getting slow, to have missed this when he was working in her kitchen. His pinky was curled the wrong way out and she rotated it until the knuckle was at least pointing in the right direction. "On three," Ellen told him. "One, two-"
Ellen jerked his pinky straight and a moan wrestled out of his throat. "I'm done." She said, splinting his pinky and checking one last time to make sure that his thumb had truly escaped injury. "All done." She cracked another ice pack and used a long bandage to secure it to his hand.
"I'm okay." Dean said and he tried to get up when she did.
"You just stay here." Ellen hurried Jo's empty bedroom and returned with the quilt off her bed. "I'm gonna go clean up your giant brother. Rest. Close your eyes. Everything can wait until morning."
Author:evelyncarver
Recipient: tifaching
Rating:Teen
Warnings:mild gore, medical procedures
Author's Notes: Thanks to immortal_jedi for the beta.
Summary: Ellen knows the Winchester boys, especially Dean, won't take any mothering from her. Well, screw that, they're hurt and she's going to give it to them anyway.
Summergen 2014 Fic #2
--
It was the banging that woke her and the light coming in from the hall that meant something was wrong. Ellen reached for the gun beside her bed and left the light in her room off. If Jo had finally found her way home, she would have been quiet and she would have known better than to turn on the lights in the bar. Ellen stepped into her jeans and clicked her off gun's safety.
Ellen stopped in the hallway. The banging had stopped and she could hear quiet voices and soothing tones coming from the kitchen shared between the house in the back and the bar in the front. It could have been Ash, he'd been off doing something on his own, he didn't tell her what he did, but he always came back with a butt load of pot. He came back with crack once and she'd kicked him out for two weeks.
"Hey kid, it's no big deal, you're gonna be fine."
That voice was familiar, Ellen lowered her gun, but she didn't put the safety back on. She stepped into the kitchen and gasped.
It looked like a murder scene. No, it looked like someone had dumped a bucket of blood over her kitchen table. Sam Winchester was laying on it and blood was dripping from his head down to her nice clean floor. Thank god the health inspector had just visited. She was going to have to bleach the entire place.
"Dean, Sam?" Ellen came into the room proper. Dean was standing over his brother, pressing one of her dishtowels to Sam's head. The white cloth was soaked with blood and Dean barely ever spared her a glance.
"Hey Ellen." Sam tried to sit up and she caught the smile on his face before Dean pushed him back down.
"What'd ya do to yourself?" She put a pot of water on the stove to boil and pulled the first aid kit down off the wall. It had much more than was required in it.
"I'm okay." Sam murmured.
"Yeah, you're gonna be fine. It's no big deal." Dean lifted the towel up and Ellen pulled gloves on before probing at the edges of the wound. It was deep enough and long enough to warrant stitches and she covered it back up before returning to the kit.
"Is there something in the area?" Ellen asked as she drew up a syringe of lidocaine and ripped open a sterile package of sutures and needles.
Dean shrugged. "Don't think so."
"Yeah? Little poke Sam," Ellen injected the numbing agent and started cleaning the blood off of Sam's face. "Then how'd this happen?"
"Not his fault." Sam slurred, the medicine was taking effect quickly and his lips twitched as he tried to speak.
"I hit him with the trunk." Dean mumbled and tried to take the suture line from her.
"Wrong place at the wrong time huh?" Ellen elbowed Dean out of the way and started placing the stitches. She could see Dean shaking and there was no way she was letting him near his brother with a needle with his hands shaking like that
"Yeah." Sam flinched as she pulled the line of suture through his skin and tied off the first stitch. He stayed still through the rest of them and she used another pile of alcohol prep pads to clean the line of stitches after she was through with them.
Ellen striped off her bloody gloves. "You stay here. Dean, help him sit up." She ordered and turned off the pot of boiling water on the stove. She measured out a few cups for instant soup and grabbed a can of tomato juice from the refrigerator. "Drink that up."
Sam took the can from her and sipped at it, making a face but not protesting.
"You okay there for now?" Ellen asked. Sam's feet didn't hang off the end of the table, something none of the beds or couches in the back could promise.
"Mmm." Sam lowered himself back down to the table.
"Good." Ellen grabbed Dean's shoulder and she didn't miss the wince he tried to hide when she steered him out of the kitchen and into her living room. "Show me." She ordered, crossing her arms over her chest.
"What?" Dean shrugged and she noticed the tension in his face as the movement hurt.
"Oh spare me the act. Do I need to cut your clothes off and search you?"
Dean grinned. "Wow Ellen-"
"Save it. C'mon, sit down and let me help you." She pushed him backwards onto the couch. "I'm getting the kit. You better be ready when I come back."
He was still sitting on the couch when she returned, even if he was still fully dressed and sweating in his leather jacket.
"Jacket off." Ellen ordered and put on a fresh pair of gloves.
He didn't say anything, just offered his left hand. "I can't."
Ellen hissed. The fingers were red and swollen. Several of them bent in odd directions. "Give it here." She sat next to him on the couch and pushed his sleeves up to his elbow before feeling carefully down to his wrist.
"So what actually happened?" She asked before running her fingers across his palm and palpating the lowest set of knuckles. Dean hissed and tried to pull his hand away but she held it still. "Tell me, focus on something else."
"We were arguing," Dean said haltingly as she probed at the joints in his fingers and squeezed the tips to check for blood flow. "He tried to get something out of trunk when I tried to close it."
"Yeah?" Ellen looked in her kit. There were enough splints for the more broken fingers, the ones she couldn't get away with taping together. "How'd this happen?" She cracked an ice pack.
"I caught the trunk, I was too late." Dean grunted as she pressed the ice pack into his palm and forced his fingers down over it. "He gonna be okay?"
"He'll be fine. No big deal, just a couple of stitches. Now you. . ."
"I'm good." Dean paled as she pulled out splints and tape. "Just fine." He tried to tug his hand away again.
"Shush. The both of you are staying here tonight. Maybe tomorrow too. Ash ain't around right now. You came to see him?"
"Yeah."
"Okay." Ellen took her gloves off. "You gotta lose the jacket and the shirts. It'll be easier before. C'mon on." It was like dressing a toddler. He protested every movement and whined when she jostled his broken hand. She saved the jacket and his button-down but the shirts below got the scissors treatment.
"I'm good." Dean protested when she put on another pair of gloves and drew up a syringe full of painkillers.
He was pale and shivering and she wiped a spot clean on his arm, ignoring his complaints. "Hush, it'll make it easier." She injected the medicine and cracked a fresh ice pack for his fingers. The swelling was already going down and none of the bones were sticking out. "Just sit back, close your eyes." She helped him shift to lean back on the couch and he let his head tip back to rest against the wall.
"I'm starting now." Ellen said quietly before tugging his index finger straight. He grunted and bit his lip but didn't complain when she clapped a splint around his finger and taped it down. His middle and ring fingers weren't as bad and she bound them together from base to tip. "Almost done."
She must have been getting slow, to have missed this when he was working in her kitchen. His pinky was curled the wrong way out and she rotated it until the knuckle was at least pointing in the right direction. "On three," Ellen told him. "One, two-"
Ellen jerked his pinky straight and a moan wrestled out of his throat. "I'm done." She said, splinting his pinky and checking one last time to make sure that his thumb had truly escaped injury. "All done." She cracked another ice pack and used a long bandage to secure it to his hand.
"I'm okay." Dean said and he tried to get up when she did.
"You just stay here." Ellen hurried Jo's empty bedroom and returned with the quilt off her bed. "I'm gonna go clean up your giant brother. Rest. Close your eyes. Everything can wait until morning."