inject the whump directly into my arteries

[mirrormirrormeme]

Nursed Back to Health shipping meme Comment with your character, preferences, preferred role, and any information you'd like to include. Your character has either been injured/sick and had to be taken in (possibly against their will) or has been the one to help somebody like the former. Through the mending process, the two characters in a thread have fallen in love - or at least grown closer and more affectionate. Reply to others. Thread.

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[hetairos]

[ how do you feel about ancient greek doctors? ]

[venatoris]

[ very positively 8,) ]

i'm just throwing this together, lmk if i should change anything

[hetairos]

[ the man, when he appears in a flash of white inside the medic tent is haggard looking and clearly bleeding. patroclus has been busy removing an arrow from a soldier when he's initially blinded by the light, but he's quick to recover, hurrying to the new man's side to assess the situation. his clothes are strange to him, something he's never seen before, but that doesn't matter much to patroclus. what matters is getting the man's bloody coat and shirt off so he can patch him up.

outside the tent, the sounds of the war are distant but audible. he's lost count of the years he and achilles have been here, and has grown so used to gods and warriors that he's not phased too much. whoever they've sent to him must need his help, otherwise he wouldn't be here.

he reaches out to steady the man before he collapses, and glances over at his other patient. the boy will die, no doubt, despite patroclus' efforts. the arrow had pierced a lung. on the new man, patroclus cannot see signs of an arrow or a spearhead. it must be some sort of injury he's not familiar with. ]

Hold on. Steady, steady, I've got you.

this is great

[venatoris]

[ This is not the first time Dean's been thrown back in time for one reason or another - willingly or not. It is the first time it's been this far back - not that he's aware of anything at present except the gash in his side and the shake of his knees. ]

Where--

[ There's meant to be a question there, buried in his subconscious trying to worm its way out, but Dean is loopy from the push through millenia, and his side fucking hurts.

He'd been battling an old god, frickin bastards; and he has a bad feeling he's really screwed this time. ]

...Shit.

[hetairos]

[ whether or not this is the stranger's first rodeo is lost on patroclus because he's busy checking out the strange garb the man is in. the leather of his armor (?) is soft and supple, meaning it's well worn. and the softness of the man's cotton shirt is remarkable. it's so finely woven!

patroclus shakes himself and sets to focusing, using his most soothing voice possible. ]

You're okay. I've got you. Here— [ he tugs on the jacket, carefully urging the man to take it off. ] Let's get this off and we can see about what's wrong.

[venatoris]

[ Dean's just glad his jacket isn't ripped - after all these years, if some asshat pagan god messed his leather up, he'd lose his absolute shit. ]

Careful with that, it's practically an antique. [ and, you know, he's sentimental. ] As for what's wrong, I'll tell you - that bastard got a lucky hit with a knife.

[hetairos]

I'll be careful. Though, your armor is so strange. No wonder it did not turn aside the knife.

[ once the man is free of his jacket, patroclus carefully sets it aside with the same care that he'd give to achilles' armor. ]

I'm not sure which bastard you're referring to, but if that's the case, you'll probably need stitching. I'm Patroclus, by the way. Which general do you serve under?

[venatoris]

It's...not really armor..

[ Dean doesn't struggle though, because he's bleeding and there's a lot more blood than he actually realized, and it fucking hurts. ]

I don't serve under any -- wait, you're who now?

[hetairos]

[ the stranger is a real mess, but patroclus has clever and quick fingers, suited to healing and bandaging. he turns away for just a moment to get the hot water from over the braiser and brings it over so he can start cleaning the wound. ]

Patroclus, son of Menoetius. It's okay if you've never heard of me.

[venatoris]

Ow.

[ It stings, but the guy knows what he's doing -- the guy Dean's pretty sure he's read about somewhere (yes, in a book, he reads, dammit), and he's staring a little bit as Patroclus works. ]

Huh. So what is this-- am I in the middle of the friggin' Trojan War?!

[ Son of a bitch. ]

[hetairos]

[ it's patroclus' turn to stare, and he pauses in his cleaning of the wound to look up at him. ]

Yes, of course.

[ a pause as he recalls the man's arrival and then he cocks his head to the side. ]

I'm sorry, I should've asked your name. If you're a Trojan...

[venatoris]

Uh, no. I'm American.

[ C'mon Dean, he has no idea what the hell that means. Move on. ]

Not a Trojan. Can you fix me up or not?

[hetairos]

[ yeah, he doesn't, but that doesn't deter him from helping. ]

It looks like it's going to need some stitches. You'll have to take off your, er... tunic?

[ because seriously, he's got some weird clothing. what are those things on his legs? ]

[venatoris]

Yeah, hang on.

[ He's got a lot of layers on; the leather jacket he took off, the flannel, the t-shirt. Layers like an onion. ]

Both of 'em?

[hetairos]

There's more than one?

[ he shakes his head, rinsing the blood out of the cloth he'd been using. ]

Then yes, both of them.