Dean was used to grunts, not screams, so despite the fact that he expected cussing and resistance from Meg, her scream so close to his ears made him flinch. Thankfully, his hand didn't jerk far enough for his knife to make Meg's wound much worse - it simply widened the hole, which he would have had to do anyway. He grit his teeth again and got back to work, now prepared for more screams. Before long - though to him it felt like awhile, and he was sure it felt even longer to Meg - he'd gotten the tip of the blade under the bullet and was able to slowly wriggle it out. "There's one."
Normally he'd stitch up any impromptu patients at the end, but Meg had lost a lot of blood, even for her. And, let's face it - Dean didn't usually have to dig out more than one bullet, let alone ones to the chest. He trusted Cas to try and stem the bleeding - it's started up again a little stronger now that he's agitated the wound by removing the bullet - while he got ready to sew her back together.
The hunter had given up on wishing for rags, instead wiping his bloody hands clean on the robe around his waist. His closet would make a new one, and he didn't have time to worry about frivolities like whether or not he'd get his clothes dirty. Not that he was concerned about Meg's death. He was just doing Cas a favor.
When the wound was clean enough to sew and he'd threaded his needle with the floss, he patched the hole as quickly as he can. It was slippery work, but Dean was no stranger to it. He muttered a few things aloud about the best way to do it, but he was still pressed for time because of the second bullet, and the explanation is cursory at best.
The second one was trickier to get out - though it was also a clean shot, which he was thankful for, it took a little more doing to get his blade under the bullet to push it back up and out. To top it all off, when it was halfway out on the first attempt, it got stuck and he had to cut a bit more; that just sent Dean into a string of curses.
After what felt like forever, all they had left to do was resterilize and add bandages. Dean pushed a hand through his hair - spreading a little blood through it mindlessly and sighed.
no subject
Normally he'd stitch up any impromptu patients at the end, but Meg had lost a lot of blood, even for her. And, let's face it - Dean didn't usually have to dig out more than one bullet, let alone ones to the chest. He trusted Cas to try and stem the bleeding - it's started up again a little stronger now that he's agitated the wound by removing the bullet - while he got ready to sew her back together.
The hunter had given up on wishing for rags, instead wiping his bloody hands clean on the robe around his waist. His closet would make a new one, and he didn't have time to worry about frivolities like whether or not he'd get his clothes dirty. Not that he was concerned about Meg's death. He was just doing Cas a favor.
When the wound was clean enough to sew and he'd threaded his needle with the floss, he patched the hole as quickly as he can. It was slippery work, but Dean was no stranger to it. He muttered a few things aloud about the best way to do it, but he was still pressed for time because of the second bullet, and the explanation is cursory at best.
The second one was trickier to get out - though it was also a clean shot, which he was thankful for, it took a little more doing to get his blade under the bullet to push it back up and out. To top it all off, when it was halfway out on the first attempt, it got stuck and he had to cut a bit more; that just sent Dean into a string of curses.
After what felt like forever, all they had left to do was resterilize and add bandages. Dean pushed a hand through his hair - spreading a little blood through it mindlessly and sighed.
"There. Done."