The IPD outpost was a small, insignificant dot in the distance, and the sun was in the center of the sky, currently serving as the main obstacle to their mission. Under a different set of circumstances, it might have caused him to remove some layers - possibly all of them - but nakedness was definitely tactically deficient with a constant dinosaur
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"That's my job," she said, setting everything down near Dean. "But if you want, I could use hands." She glanced at Angua. "Lots of hands." She remembered what Ayla had said about hunters' wounds and frowned. "Dean," Reese said very seriously as she took out her knife, "I hope you brought a change of pants because to get this bolt out, we're gonna have to cut you out of these. I don't want any more stress on that bolt. They'd just pull it out at the clinic and slap a bandage on your ass anyway. Austin, Angua?" She glanced at them. "Do me a favor and make sure he doesn't squirm too much."
Reese felt weird giving that order, but the pants had to go and she had to get that bolt out. Simple fact. Everything was a sterile as she could make it on an island in the middle of nowhere, too. With a determined expression, Reese used her knife to slit Dean's pants to the point where she could work comfortably. Hmn.
Silk boxers. Silk boxers that were twisted around the shaft of the arrow and into the wound. That was interesting. She cut a neat square of silk that she could easily gather and drew a breath.
"You know how they say 'This is gonna hurt' right before you pass ouy?" she said grimly. "This is gonna hurt, Dean." She gave him a bundle of cloth to bite down on and tried to look reassuring. "You'll want that in your mouth. No sense losing teeth along with everything else. Ready?"
Her eyes flicked to Angua and Austin.
"Shoulders or legs, guys?" she asked, all business.
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He set his gaze against the wall opposite him, focusing on his happy place - ie, Zeppelin - to distract himself from the movements behind him. "The drums will shake the castle wall," he muttered into the blanket, "The ring wraiths ride in black, ride on. Sing as you raise your bow, shoot straighter than before." The last lyrics were delivered quickly, Dean sucking in a large breath as he felt Reese's efforts behind him begin to focus.
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Angua pressed down on Dean's shoulders. It was probably time for the main event.
The T-1000 thought that 'The Final Countdown' could have been a more fitting choice of lyrics.
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Objectively, the wound wasn't too bad and stopped bleeding fairly quickly. Reese cleaned it out with water, made sure the area was washed, and started applying the thick paste. Ayla had made it so many times that Reese could have made it in her sleep. It would help detoxify, relieve pain (almost instantly), stop the bleeding, and aid the healing process. And to make matters even more amusing, Dean was going to have to come back for more. Once the paste was slathered on, she bound the poultice in bandages (that was awkward for it was mostly a hip to hip affair), then tied it tight enough that it would continue to apply pressure against the wound without cutting off blood flow.
When she was finally done, Reese felt as if all the strength had simply been washed from her body.
"Better?" she asked in a croak and wasn't sure how she was still upright. Hell, she hadn't even fixed her own cuts and bruises and she needed to check Austin out. And Angua's leg. But the most pressing wound was dealt with and not bleeding all over the place.
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"Who's next?" he murmured, wriggling fingers that could still clean and wrap a wound, provided said wound was brought within reach.
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Once she was done, though, he could plainly see that Reese had almost run out of fuel herself. Feeding her lollipops and sandwiches was unlikely to do much good.
"Take care of Angua's leg." He was certain Dean had experience in the field, even if his current position was less than optimal for wound treatment. "I'll do Reese."
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