Gretel (_gretel) wrote in helladjacent, @ 2017-02-26 13:21:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !jumps: vamps vs wolves, character: gretel, character: negan |
Who: Gretel and Negan
What: Companionship
Where: Gretel's room
When: After Gretel and Erik's confrontation
Rating: Negan's language, imagery
Status: Complete
Negan was laying in bed, sound asleep, when he heard what sounded to him like a blood-curdling scream. In reality, it was a wolf roaring out in pain, somewhere in the forest, but Negan recognized the voice as soon as he heard it, and it had him bolt upright in bed, all of his senses on high alert and the hair on the back of his neck and his arms standing on end.
He didn’t hear anything else after that, but it did far from set his mind at ease. He didn’t even bother putting clothes on. He jumped out of bed, and by the time he was running out the door, he was on four paws and booking it.
He let his nose lead him, seeking out and following Gretel’s familiar scent, ears pricked and heckles raised as he darted through the trees.
After she’d chased off the vampire that stupidly got between her and her kill, more specifically once the rage cleared out of her head, steadily being replaced by reason and pain, Gretel didn’t even bother going back for the deer. Her speed had given out not far from the hotel; she could see the lit windows, blinking like multiple eyes in the dark distance, and coincidentally not far from where she’d left her clothing and PDA before the hunt.
Though her legs weren’t injured in the brawl, the bastard had torn into the skin and muscle of her back in places that made walking slow and staggered. She knew instinctively that the injuries weren’t immediately mortal, but she was more than vulnerable, especially in the hotel and its swarm of other vampires. She needed Negan.
A low, beckoning howl floated over the trees, cut off at the end by the cracked rib that made deeper breaths difficult. Gretel followed her own trail back to her things in a clearing the two of them had spent time in several times already.
Her howl pierced through the air, and Negan followed the sound of it. He could hear how broken it was towards the end, and he picked up his pace. Rather than stop to howl back, he barked several times, loud and short. He wasn’t far.
Her scent, and her howl, lead him to an area they’d been to multiple times during the week. It was familiar, now, thick with their scent, and he could see her white fur even from a distance. He didn’t slow down until he was there at her side, sniffing and whining and licking each of her ears. He could smell death on her, and it had his heckles raised, but for now, his attention was focused on Gretel. The rage would have to wait - Gretel needed him now.
Relief washed over her with his presence; she returned his greetings with enthusiasm, but also fatigue; the fight itself had been physically challenging- sandwiched between the chase of the deer and chasing the vampire, and the physical damage…
Her clothing and PDA were right there on a nearby rock, but Gretel didn’t go right for them. She sat in the reeds and grass flattened by their presence over the week, hunched and panting. Her eyes closed, pulling the wolf back inside with some considerable effort. When she finally shifted, the vampire’s disgusting blood was still smeared around her mouth, but everything else was splattered and soaked with her own, all from her shoulder, neck and back.
As soon as Negan could tell what she was doing, he followed suit. The second he’d seen her, it was obvious she wasn’t going to be able to get back to the hotel on her own, and there was only so much he could do for her while he was a wolf. His eyes stayed locked on her while he shifted, taking in her injuries now that they weren’t covered by fur.
“Shit, Gretel-” He went to her in an instant, down on the ground on his knees in front of her, carefully moving her hair out of the way so he could look at her wounds. The vampire had done a good job at ripping into her, and it made his blood fucking boil. He still pushed it down for now, and pulled her tight against him for a moment, one hand carefully on the back of her hand, and the other at her lower back. When he pulled back, he still had one hand cupped around her cheek. “What the fuck happened?”
Gretel’s eyes stayed closed, tightening occasionally from the shots of pain that came with movement, but still tremendously relieved that he surrounded her. She just leaned on him, still breathing hard with the hitch at the end of each exhale when the displaced rib hit her lung, but with her face buried in his neck, each labored inhale brought back a little more focus.
“He tried to steal my deer,” she ground out after a few moments, still collecting herself. She remembered feeling fangs and what had to have been claws- or at least, sharp fingernails that peeled away her skin with brute strength. Even the careful shift of her hair felt like a flash of fire.
Negan’s frown deepened, and he kissed the top of her head, a growl rumbling low in his chest. He could see the patches left in her skin where it had been ripped out with fur, and the claw marks left behind. Whoever the fuck did it wasn’t going to last much longer that week, not if he could help it.
“Fucking cocksucker,” he growled, and let go of her for a moment so he could grab her clothes and her PDA. He didn’t have any clothes for himself, but he also didn’t really give a shit, especially not right now. “We need to go back. I can’t go shit for you out here.” Plus, out here, they were exposed. He didn’t smell any vampires around, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be coming. “Are you gonna give a shit about modesty, or can we just go?” It was a legitimate question. He’d help her get dressed if she wanted to be.
She faintly shook her head, the yellow-red slits of her eyes peeking through her lashes as she finally opened her eyes. Getting dressed was only going to make things worse, because she’d have to take the clothes off again anyway. The PDA was the important part, here. Leaning heavily into him in the process, Gretel worked on getting to her feet.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” she breathed, wincing deep and again catching her breath. “Just hurts. A lot.” But she would live, so long as she got some food and good, long rest in a safe place- with him nearby.
Negan helped Gretel up to her feet, but once they were both standing, he handed off her PDA, and scooped her up into his arms, adjusting her so he’d be jostling her injuries as little as possible. If she was going to be leaning on him, anyway, he’d save her the hassle of even walking. With the added strength, it was easier to adjust his grip, holding her at a slightly awkward angle.
“I know, baby,” he said, and kissed her temple. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna make you all fucking better.” He kissed her forehead, nuzzling his nose gently into her hair for a moment. His pace was quick as he walked them through the forest, but he tried to keep from bumping and moving her around too much. Luckily, their clearing wasn’t that far from the hotel, and he knew the way without having to sniff for it.
“Now, I know you can handle your shit, but you’re not fucking going out hunting alone again this week,” he said. He wasn’t mad- not at her, anyway. His tone was protective, and final. Hunting alone wasn’t safe anymore.
He’d get no protest from her, not even if she had a reason to argue- which she certainly did not. Even the freedom of the forest didn’t feel completely right unless he was with her, or at the very least, one or more of the others.
Her answer came in the form of a small but distinct nod against his shoulder, her grip around him tightening to keep herself as still as possible as he walked. The complex scents of the hotel greeted them soon enough, along with the yellow lighting and strange, distant sounds of the other residents behind all their individual walls. The aroma of the vampire she’d clashed with was still strong in the lobby, but not on the fourth floor. Her room was thick with her own scent, but also Negan’s, and offered the most comfort and safety in their territory.
Once the door was closed behind them, she could breathe a little easier.
Negan was never very comfortable in the hotel much anymore, not unless he was a wolf, with Gretel, or in Gretel’s room, in their own comfortable little bubble they’d made for themselves. Even now, in her room, he wasn’t exactly comfortable, not when Gretel was injured and the vampire who’d done it was walking around the hotel somewhere. He could tell she was more relaxed by it, though, and that helped.
He tossed her PDA over onto the bed, and brought her into the bathroom, turning the light on and carefully setting her to stand on the tile floor. “Okay, lemme get a better fucking look at you-” he said, giving her another, more thorough once-over now that they were inside. “This is gonna fucking suck ass to take care of no matter how we do it.” He frowned, examining the deeper wounds across her back, as well as the raw lesions where skin had been ripped from her body. Everywhere his fingers touched, they were light and careful. “You should lemme give you a sponge bath or some shit. Showering with these is gonna feel like fucking acid.”
Unfortunately, Gretel knew he was right on both counts. She’d gone from leaning on him to leaning on the bathroom counter by her dirty, bloody palms; her hair, some of it ratted together by blood, hung thick and tangled over her shoulder. She saw all this with the mistake of glancing up, and catching her reflection in the mirror. It almost startled her, but only because of the yellow eyes.
She’d been bloodied up like this plenty of times before, some recent.
Gretel breathed out through her mouth, letting her shoulders slouch a bit when she took her eyes away from the mirror. “Let’s get it over with then.”
Negan turned the water for the shower on, letting it warm up while he turned back to Gretel, putting his hands on her hips from behind where she wasn’t injured, and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “It’ll be over before you even fuckin’ know it,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. He gave her hips a gentle, reassuring squeeze, before he took one of her hands to lead her into the shower.
He angled the water so it shot straight down, rather than directly at them, helping Gretel in, and staying close to her to help her stay upright. “Let’s start with somethin’ easy first, yeah?” he said, his voice low. He had one hand on her back, and the other carefully at the back of her neck as he backed her up near the water, supporting her weight. “Lean back, I wanna get that shit out of your hair.” Washing it wasn’t going to happen, but it was so caked with dirt and blood, he couldn’t even see to her scalp.
The little things were the most important- the most effective; the soft squeeze from his hands and the brush of his nose and jaw, the feel of his breath on her cheek and the sound of his voice all helped to center her. Right now the pain was a dull roar in her blood, with sparks that flared hot every time she moved some muscle connected to her back; that was going to get a lot worse, but at least she had him to hold onto.
And she did, with her hands and arms anchored on his with a grip around the back of his shoulders; just the act of rolling back her shoulders pinched and pulled the torn skin below them, tightening her breath. All the water did at first was make her hair heavier, then as it started to saturate and drip, at first black and dark brown, and red. Eventually the drips became a steady stream, and dirty water trailed down her face, her neck, chest, and over the breaks in her skin, making her hiss.
“I know, baby,” he murmured, running gentle fingers through her hair, letting the water flow through it as he carefully tried to work his fingers through the mats of dried blood and dirt. Slowly, the water ran less and less opaque, but never quite clear. It was good enough for now. He helped her stand up straight again, and walked her away from the water for the moment.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” he said, and leaned down to kiss her, as gentle as the tone of his voice. He’d give her a few seconds to catch her breath. The next part would be the worst, and there wasn’t much he could do to make it better. Either he’d have to scrub at her skin, or he’d have to hold her under the spray of the shower, and he knew which one would be faster.
“I know how much this is gonna fucking suck, so if you need to stop, you fucking tell me, okay?” He rubbed his thumb over her cheek, his hand on her back keeping her close.
Holding her breath had been the only way to keep herself still as the little threads of dirty acid snaked their way from under her hair to the exposed nerves, but even as he stepped the away from the stream, they didn’t stop entirely. When her eyes weren’t closed, they were a painful glowing yellow that fought especially hard against the desire to change. It was like holding back a different kind of scream. His voice was one of the only things that cut well enough through the fog to keep her there.
She leaned into the touch on her cheek, then against his cheek with more abandon, forcing her breaths to slow through her nose. There was a thought somewhere in her head that reminded her this wasn’t the first time he’d seen her in this kind of pain.
“I will-” she breathed, her voice low and rolled in gravel.
Negan pressed a kiss to her forehead, gathering her hair to pull over her shoulder and out of the way. He rubbed his thumb gently along her spine as he backed her into the water again, this time reaching up to angle the showerhead more towards them. While the spray hit her back, he murmured quiet words of comfort and encouragement, now and then shifting either her position or the angle of the water, trying to be as gentle as he could be, but there wasn’t much he could do. This would be hell until it was over, so he worked quickly and carefully.
His gentle support was nearly lost in the strangled sound that ripped itself out of her throat; where pressurized water hit torn skin, it may as well have been liquid fire melting away both the good and the bad. Everything shook with her effort to stay still, to stay in her skin, until she could do nothing to stop herself from burying her teeth in his shoulder, just to bare it.
Negan grunted and swallowed back a yell as she bit into him, gritting his teeth together because his pain was so not fucking important right now. He’d manage. The noises she made felt like a stab in the chest, and the more she shook against him, the more the anger burned underneath his skin. He shoved it down, focused on the task at hand, but he was saving it for later, after Gretel had been taken care of.
It was only going to get worse before it got better. He reached out for the bar of soap, and made as quick work as he could of washing at least some of the dirt and blood that was really stuck to her skin away. She didn’t stop him, but every time she exhaled, it was accompanied by another painful sound that make his skin crawl.
He knew he could have kept going until she was spotless, that she would have let him, but he couldn’t. Once she was mostly clean, clean enough for him to dry her off without turning the towels black and red, he stopped, dropping the bar of soap, rinsing the last of the suds off of her, and then pulling her back out of the water. He turned so his back was to the spray, and brought the hand that wasn’t at Gretel’s back to her head, cradling the back of it gently.
“All done,” he managed, his voice tight and betraying just how fucking painful Gretel’s bite on his shoulder was, even as his fingers stroked calmly through her hair.
A few seconds after the burning onslaught ended, her jaw laxed, letting him go with hard pants and weak knees. The fire was still in her blood, and it would be for a while, but it was dying back down to a manageable simmer.
“Sorry-” she breathed, tasting his blood on her teeth; that was the first real realization that she’d done what she had. With her head resting heavily on that same, tattooed shoulder, she licked her lips and loosened her grip on him, but no way was she letting go.
Negan relaxed noticeably when she finally let go of his shoulder, taking a deep breath and letting it out as he rolled the tension out of it with a grimace. “Shut the fuck up,” he replied, kissing the top of her head and holding her against him. He could practically forget about his shoulder, knowing how much pain Gretel was in. “You know that shit turns me on,” he added, and kissed her temple. It was his way of saying he was fine.
He reached back to turn the water off, before helping her get back out of the shower. Drying her off was a careful process, as he dabbed around her injuries, trying not to agitate what was already raw and painful from the shower. At least there wasn’t any danger of her getting cold, not with how hot their bodies ran.
“So I’m thinkin’, we’ll get you all nice and fucking cozy in bed, and I’ll try and find some shit for your battle wounds,” he said, mostly to fill the silence for her sake while he wrapped her hair in a smaller towel, squeezing the excess water out of it. “And I’ll go make you some food. You need it.”
Once he had her mostly dried off, he opted not to wrap her in a towel, to avoid putting even more unnecessary friction on her injuries, and scooped her up into his arms to carry her over to her bed. “You don’t have a first aid kit hiding in here somewhere that I don’t know about, right?”
While even the delicate pats and careful navigation still hurt like hell, it was all starting to fade into the background for Gretel, replaced steadily by the words he said and the kisses, the reassuring spark in his eyes, trimmed by yellow and red, when they met. She didn’t have to look at them to know the rage that had consumed her in the woods was lurking not far beneath his surface; she could smell it on him. It felt dangerous, and justified. The only knot of nerves it really left in her stomach was knowing- not just speculating- that he would be doing something about it, and she wouldn’t be able to help him.
But it was difficult to focus; her already hot skin had flared with the fever of inflammation, fighting off everything bad that’d made its way under her skin, also fighting to heal. The whole ordeal was exhausting, and losing herself to sleep was sounding more and more like her only option.
Every opportunity she was close enough, Gretel rested against him, her head on his shoulder or buried in his neck. After carefully slipping from his arms to the bed, where she winced and hissed through her teeth as she placed herself on her belly, most of her hair underneath her or splayed on the bed, she closed her eyes and let out a long, unstable sigh.
“There’s a salve,” she finally said, lethargically pointing toward the wardrobe, where all her leathers and ‘battle gear’ were placed, mostly untouched this week. Or several before it. “In a small brown jar.”
Negan stroked her hair back, and leaned down to kiss her forehead, before he went over to the wardrobe to get the salve. He returned back to the bed with it, sitting next to her and popping off the lid of the jar. Out of curiosity, he gave it a sniff, letting out a quiet ‘hm’ of approval at its sweet smell. Then he turned to Gretel, and started carefully applying the salve to her wounds, starting with the worst ones on her upper back.
Even now that she was back in her bed, safe and sound, his eyes still flickered yellow-orange every time her expression twitched or her breathing hitched. He knew exactly what he wanted to do to the vampire that had hurt her, but he didn’t know which vampire it was.
Did it really fucking matter? There weren’t that many of them.
“What do you wanna eat?” he asked, equal parts to distract himself, and her. “I’ll make whatever the fuck you want.”
The initial sting of pressure in applying the thick honey-smelling paste was immediately cooled as it began to work. She hadn’t been sure if it would- none of her magic had ever worked on her before, but this body she currently existed in was a different sort of magic. Apparently that had been enough.
As soon as the pain began melting away on a larger scale, the exhaustion was moving in like a rolling fog. She couldn’t even concentrate on being hungry, let alone what she wanted to eat.
“I’ll eat later,” she told him, barely over her breath. She sleepily caught his nearby hand and pulled it close to her cheek- as much physical affection as she could express in her current state. “Thank you.”
At least whatever Gretel had in the jar was starting to help. He could see the way she relaxed, the lines in her expression smoothing, her breathing evening out. It helped him to relax, too, and he couldn’t help the small smile when she caught his hand. He cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb over it gently.
“Cut that shit out,” he said, and then leaned down, kissing the side of her head. “You don’t have to thank me. Not for a fucking second.” He knew that if their roles had been reversed, Gretel would have taken care of him, too.
With all of her wounds covered in a thin layer of salve, Negan closed the jar again and set it out of the way on the nightstand. Then he laid down next to Gretel and, since she said she’d eat later anyway, he settled on his back, shifting over closer to her.
“C’mere,” he murmured, and patted his chest invitingly.
He didn’t need to insist twice. In fact, he hadn’t needed to say anything- as soon as he settled near her, she was already shifting closer. She draped most of her body over him, her cheek pillowed by his chest over the over-warm skin and strong, comforting heartbeat.
“I know I don’t have to thank you,” she murmured after a few seconds, her eyes already closed. Her words were already edging close to sleep. His warmth and presence surrounded her; she’d be under quickly. “You still deserve it..”
Negan chuckled, looping one arm carefully around her waist, avoiding her injuries, while his other hand stroked through her hair. Now that she was settled against him again, he could finally relax. He could keep her safe. He kissed the top of her head, letting out a deep sigh. His own shoulder still throbbed, but he’d live. It wasn’t nearly as bad as what she’d been through.
“Yeah, well, you didn’t deserve any of the shit that fucking cocksucker did to you,” he said, his tone growing slightly more dangerous by the end of his sentence. He let out a huff through his nose, and nuzzled his nose into her hair, giving her head another kiss. “And you don’t fuckin deserve the pain it’s causing you now.” Luckily, her salve seemed to help with that. He sighed, giving her hip a gentle squeeze. “Just get some sleep, baby.” Not that he needed to tell her. He could hear the sleep in her voice.