Her Guardian || Demon! Dream Sans x Reader

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Mafia set Waylon on the bed, lying the rich man flat on his back then stepping back to let (Y/n) lean over him. The jagged bone was stuck in his chest halfway between his right pec and collarbone, bubbles arising in the blood spilling from the wound. Every small shift on the bed only caused more internal damage, and Waylon coughed up blood in between ragged breaths. (Y/n) knew how to mend broken bones, but this was a whole other procedure, and while magic would definitely make the difference between life and death, she had to be meticulous.

(Y/n) quickly unfastened the buttons on Waylon's dress shirt, tossing the bloody fabric off to the side. "Go get my alcohol," she said to Mafia, who fled the room instantly to get it.

As she looked over Waylon, frantically trying to think of what to do, Ink stepped up beside her to ask, "What do you need?" with his paintbrush already in hand.

"Bandages, gauze, get me..." She trailed off as she heard a subtle sucking sound, and her eyes snapped wide in alarm. "Fuck!" She ripped the bone out of Waylon's chest, making him yell in agony, and she slapped her hand over the wound. Blood flowed more easily out of the hole, coating her hand in red as she positioned her palm perfectly over the circular wound to cover it. Air still bubbled up around her hand, popping and flicking red across her skin. "He's got a sucking chest wound," she said quickly, eyes frantic as she looked over the pale man's face. "Ink, I need a square plastic bandage that's got a seal on 3 of the 4 sides."

Ink swiped his brush across the nightstand table, creating exactly what she needed then handed it to her, his paintbrush remaining poised over the table in preparation for whatever she asked for next. "What's a sucking chest wound?"

"It means his lung was pierced by the bone." She held the bandage over the wound, hesitating at the sheer amount of blood—it wouldn't be able to stick to his chest like this. She ran a hand through her hair, mentally going over the little she knew about lung injuries. "I need to clean up the blood." Her hand was doing a decent enough job of preventing the air in his punctured lung from slipping out of the wound, but blood was rapidly filling his lung. Waylon spat up blood onto the pillow, groaning loudly in between labored breaths.

Ink created a towel then stepped up beside her, mopping up the blood on Waylon's chest. Once enough of it was gone, she slapped the bandage over the hole. The blood seeped under the seal so she had to hold it, but with each breath in, she watched the plastic suck back into the hole, blocking air from getting in, and every breath out allowed air to slip out of the one unsealed side. That would have to do for now.

"Alright, what's next?" (Y/n) mumbled to herself. Waylon threw the back of his hand over his eyes, his breaths coming out in short pants. His skin was pale and every second she wasted was more blood he was losing. She really wished she could get him to a doctor—someone who actually knew what they were doing—but she doubted Mrs. Waylon would fail to visit him if she went that route. So home medicine it was, and whatever skills she could remember from her EMT course her father made her take in preparation for anything going wrong during a summoning. But of course the point of being an EMT was to keep the person alive until they got to the hospital, not fix them long-term.

"What do you need?" Ink asked, lightly bumping her side with his hip.

"I'm not sure," (Y/n) muttered, running a hand through her hair. "Uh, get me a giant roll of tape, and use it to secure the bandage to his chest." She tapped the plastic square over Waylon's wound, and Ink nodded as he did just that, placing extra tape over the 3 sides to keep it secure so she wouldn't have to hold it.

Mafia walked back in with a glass and the Disaronno, extending it to (Y/n). She pointed to the other side of the bed, which Mafia went to, then she gestured at Waylon. "That's if he wants something to dull the pain."