poughkeepsie ➳ twd/spn

2. Day 521 - 523

“How are you holding up?” The question dragged Dean’s attention away from the black smoke rising in the distance, the brunet’s gaze flicking over to Tyreese. The man was hovering in front of him, a filled water canteen in hand.

“Been better.” Dean grunted, the absentminded chewing of the granola bar that Daryl had stuffed into his hand earlier slowing to a stop.

“Fair.” Tyreese allowed, nodding. “Carol says that it’s a good idea to stay hydrated.” Tyreese added -which explained the canteen- before offering the water to the brunet. Dean smiled in thanks and took the canteen, downing a few gulps. The water was cool, soothing his irritated throat.

He grimaced as he slowly and carefully lowered his arm to rest on his knee, the bite throbbing. Unfortunately, the wound hurt every time he moved in a way that agitated at the bite, but his severely limited range of movement was only to be expected seeing as the inconsiderate Ripper had got him right on the tit.

Carl had found the news hilarious, laughing as Carol pulled bits of torn black fabric out of the wound before dousing the gash with what remained of Merle’s moonshine. Dean had fondly rolled his eyes as the boy howled, the pup leaning against a nearby tree for support. Maggie, Merle, and Sasha had also gotten a kick out of the unfortunate placement, cackling amongst themselves when they saw the injury in all its glory when Dean's shirt came off, joking about breast-feeding Rippers.

The four newbies kept their distance, shooting Rick and the others disbelieving looks. But the brunet didn’t blame them, they had probably seen someone succumb to a Ripper bite before, so it was only fair that they were a bit freaked out when they discovered that Dean had been bitten and not immediately put down or abandoned.

“Thanks man.” Dean smacked his lips, handing the canteen back to Tyreese, but the man merely held his hand up and pushed the water back toward Dean.

“Keep it, it’s yours.”

As usual, Ty was being a big old softy. Well, that and the inevitable infection, he wouldn't have taken the canteen back either.

Dean snorted, but obediently screwed the cap on and set the canteen on the ground beside him, resuming his distracted consumption of his snack.

The brunet figured that he had around half an hour of being lucid before the worst of the fever would hit, that’s when travel would be more risky because Dean’s behavior was unpredictable when his brain was boiling. They knew that he didn’t like Rick, Merle, and Tyreese already, although Abraham was swiftly added onto the ‘no contact’ list that Carl and Maggie had been dutifully working on since the pack had escaped Terminus.

The pup was able to calm the brunet down by reading aloud or just talking in general, so Carl would probably be essential to stopping Dean’s fits before they could really get going. It was also common knowledge that Daryl was the best at handling the fevered brunet, constantly reassuring Dean that nothing could get to him because Daryl would kill whatever was threatening the brunet before it could touch so much as a hair on his head.

The younger redneck would be able to curb Dean’s panic if Carl couldn’t manage to do so before the brunet spiraled, which was definitely something that the pack wanted to avoid. There was a good chance that he would draw Rippers to them if he went off, or even worse… other people. And, after both the Claimers and Terminus, Dean didn’t think that any of them -himself included- wanted to deal with outsiders anytime soon.