Bound

Chapter 27

When Dean came to, he found himself face down on the floor, blood congealed in a pool under his cheek. "Nyah," he mumbled, regretting the action when his ragged throat sent him into a spasm of agonising coughs. Not an inch of his body didn't ache, and as he took his weight onto his hands and pushed himself onto his knees, he readied for more. He was forced to hold halfway when the shattered bones, although already knitting back into a solid piece, screamed against the action. "Dammit." Rolling onto his ass instead, he landed with a grunt.

Nick lay motionless on the other side of the room.

"Nick? Hey, Nick, are you okay? Open your eyes."

Nick moaned.

"Hey, come on, wake up." Dean scooted over and dared a gentle shake of Nick's shoulder. The action shot a jolt of pain through his own arm, and when he pulled up his sleeve, he saw why. His radius had reset crooked. It jutted out from under his flesh, the lump appearing like a second elbow on his forearm. "That's not good."

Nick came round with a sudden jerk, flailing out as if his assailant still hovered above him.

"It's okay, settle, they're gone."

"Gone?" Nick spat out a mouthful of blood as he squinted around. "Shit. Nyah too?"

"Yes. Are you okay?" Dean pulled the remains of a smashed chair off Nick's legs. He had fallen in an awkward heap against the wall, but allowed Dean carefully tug him upright.

"I think every bone I have is broken."

"Can you stand?"

"In a year, maybe."

"Think you can walk?"

"Hell no," Nick wheezed. "I can just about breathe. Sons of bitches. I'll kick their asses into next year."

"I need you to re-break my arm before we do any kicking of ass." Dean displayed the distorted limb.

"Ouch. Okay, but you'll have to do my shoulder too."

Dean winced at the sight of Nick's left shoulder. The dislocation had left his arm hanging limp by his side. "So, who goes first?"

"Let's just try standing up."

They both hobbled to their feet, a mixture of grunts and hisses following every movement.

"They left us in a twisted heap on purpose," Nick panted. "They don't want us following."

"Only being stone-cold dead will stop me from following." After a short pause to catch their breaths and ensure they could stand upright without tipping over, Dean took a hold of Nick's arm and shoulder. "Are you ready?"

"Count me down." Nick sucked in to brace himself. "I'm in so much pain here. I need a—ow! Shit!"

Dean held back a laugh. Nick had jumped two feet off the floor.

"You're sadistic, you know that?" he grumbled, massaging his reset shoulder.

"You'll live. Come on, it's my turn now."

Nick grimaced against the crack of Dean's bone snapping in his grip. "Hold it in place," he warned.

Dean cradled the arm to his chest, cursing loudly against both the pain and their entire crappy situation.

"That curly-headed mutant is going to get such a beating," Nick promised, lowering himself onto the edge of the bed.

"We're not handing out any beatings," Dean carefully eased himself down to sit beside him. He would kill for a large, stiff drink to numb the pain. Instead, he made do with breathing through the burn of resetting bones. "It's Northfell who did this, not them. Save your energy for him."