The Monsters In Our Heads (Book 7 Arrow/SPN Crossovers)

When You're Not The Only One

She came back with a couple of thin cloths that were folded up, a bowl that was nested into a stack of bowls that was filled with steaming water  which had some tea bag tags hanging out of it along with some ace bandages and hydrogen peroxide. She also had a roll of paper towels. I could smell some of the herbs that she had used. I'd come to really like the smell of the mint we grew and sandalwood incense. She'd burn sandalwood a lot at night or when she was doing some sort of ritual and I'd started associating that smell with her, the mint she used in her tea. She'd slowly gotten me into the habit of drinking some here and there, it had this effect of helping me relax while clearing my head at the same time.

"Let's get started on this." She set a towel on the table and set my right hand on top of it. "I'll get the splinters out first, then clean them and wrap them, all right?"

"Sure." Fortunately I hadn't hit any studs so didn't need stitches.

She started picking out the splinters. I had so much scar tissue on my knuckles from years of bashing faces, blocking weapons and who knows what else in that I barely felt it. That took her about ten minutes to get both hands splinter free, then she set both my hands in one of the empty bowls and poured a bunch of hydrogen peroxide over them. That stung. Once the bubbling and hissing of the peroxide stopped she gently patted my knuckles dry. They were starting to swell and looking kind of purple. I'd really let the wall have it.

The next thing she did was pour a bunch of the tea over my hands. I recognized the smell, it was chamomile. I'd found out after moving in with her that it cures just about everything . It was a disinfectant among other things. She let that dry, poured another round or two of it over my hands then set that aside. The liquid in the bowl was an odd mix of yellow and red. I wasn't gushing blood but there was enough getting washed away to turn the tea a dark, red iron, rust color. Once that was done she moved my hands out of the bowl and set them on the towel.

She picked up one of the folded up cloths and set it on top of the knuckles of my right hand, it was damp. She must have soaked it before coming out, "Hold that."

I did as she asked and she lightly wrapped the poultice with the ace bandage so it wouldn't slip off, we repeated the process on the left hand.

"There. Should make the swelling go away faster and make the cuts heal faster. I'll take it off in about three hours or so."

"That felt a hell of a lot better than dumping cheap whiskey on my knuckles." The stinging was already settling down and the warmth was making the aching subside a bit.

She laughed, leaned back and put her arm around my shoulders. "Well that always works in a pinch."

She was drained, so was I but I didn't want to move. The sun had risen on the drive here, it was getting close to seven or so in the morning. I didn't really want to get my days and nights turned around but staying awake was starting to feel impossible, and it shouldn't be. I should still be paranoid to go back to sleep. "What'd you do?"

That got an mock innocent look out of her, "Nothing."

"I'm half asleep, that's not normal after a dream like that."

"So? Don't fight it. Get comfy." She pulled out the recliner part of the couch she was on, pushed it back so she was almost horizontal and lightly pulled my head towards her lap. "Rest. You need it. Don't worry about dreaming. I've got that covered."

"Only if you crash too."

She smiled and closed her eyes, "Sure. Now close your eyes and relax."

I have no idea how she pulled it off but all the tension left me and I felt like I was floating. I took a couple of deep breaths and passed out cold.