Dean Winchester (i_soldieron) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2012-02-21 22:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | dean winchester, jesse custer, stand still |
A little helping hand (Jesse)
The older Winchester had yet to tell anyone he was in the hospital. He didn't want to worry anyone. He also didn't want people messing with his phone. It was bad enough that they'd taken his gun, knives, multiple ids, and the phone to pack away where he couldn't get them. It wasn't that he could use them, which wasn't the point. They were packed away from him.
He rested on the hospital bed. He had a few other problems, not just the ruined hands, that had come from being thrown into a wall. He shifted on the bed, groaning to himself. He couldn't even press the button very well to ease the pain with a little chemical help. It was slight misery.
The hunter stared up at the ceiling. He was useless here, and he was going to be lucky to get for mobility back in his fingers the way they'd been crushed. He couldn't even protect himself much less help anyone else. These were the moments Dean hated himself the most; he hated that he pitied himself and that he could do nothing. He was just some poor slob who couldn't lift a finger, in this case literally, to even wipe the drool off his own jaw.
Well, there was one thing he could do in the past, but he didn't want to go that route here. He didn't even know if it was possible. He hadn't seen his own personal angel in days, weeks. The only other type he knew of who could hear prayers, maybe...
"So, look, this is probably as uncomfortable for me as it is you, but if you could see your way into giving a hand here." He shook his head at his own slip of the tongue. "I need help. Not asking you to prove yourself, just asking you to help." He looked at his hands, what he could see of them under the bandages anyway.
"I can't believe I may actually be praying to a guy who smokes and knows Batman." He just shook his head, giving a soft laugh at just how bad it had gotten. Dean knew he was going to have to get some flowers or something for Lois Lane; he laughed again thinking of how she'd probably just throw them out.