• Mood: creative
• Music: the mardi gras indians — shoo-fly

Contusions

Dawn had managed to manhandle Spike downstairs, get him onto his bed and ply him with alcohol until he passed out. It took a little more effort to single handedly strip the insensible man so she could treat his injuries without causing him further pain.

Wincing at the collection of bruises marring his legs, Dawn was long since past the embarrassment of seeing Spike naked.

It was a slow process tending to Spike's wounds and Dawn nearly depleted her meagre supply of filched gauze and antiseptic.

As she gathered the few remaining items together, Dawn gave serious thought to how she was going to get away with stealing replacements. Spike's ribs were firmly strapped. Dawn didn't have the equipment to perform sutures, so she taped and bound the larger wounds as best she could and hoped Spike's vampire healing would kick in before her makeshift bandaging gave out.

Tossing her bag on the floor, she kicked off her shoes and climbed into bed beside Spike. He may have been out to it still, but he instinctively moved closer to her warmth, snuggling into Dawn's arms. Gently kissing his forehead, Dawn held him a little tighter as she stared at the ceiling, her tears falling silently to soak into the pillow.

The physical and emotional pain to her friend was bad enough, but having the put him back together time after time was tearing her apart. Buffy's brutality had to stop.

15minuteficlets — word #48: collection
Part of the Alley!verse