"Liar," she comments drily, "I'm sure you know exactly why parents don't like you. I bet you were a heartbreaker," Raylin pauses for a moment before continuing, "Correction, are a heartbreaker," she returns his jest, though she's beginning to lose steam, her words quieter than they had been a moment before. Still, she can't help but allow that frown to crease her forehead, her chocolate gaze watching him as she slouched back into the couch, a couch which was surely going to be ruined after they were done here. She made a mental note to get him a new one... off Craigslist. "Well, you would've had to clean me up in the morning - I hear blood is really hard to get out of wood," she deadpans though there's a slight cracking in the tail end of her sentence, as if it had just occurred to her that if Brennan hadn't been home, there was a good chance she would be dead. It wasn't long before Brennan manages to drag a barking laughter out of her, much to her regret, the man simply responding with a one word syllable. Who knows? Maybe he could get a woman to scream his name, it was possible - the man had that dark and handsome thing going for him and to top it off with the accent? She was certain he could manage to bring home any woman he wanted if he were into that sort of thing. Still, she doesn't say anything, even as that heartbreaking smile appears on his lips.
Taking a couple deep swallows, she grimaces at the burning sensation, entirely missing the amusement that flickers on the warlock's face. She's ready to wipe her hand across her mouth when Brennan's fingers come up to rest gently on her chin and lightly brush away the booze that had dribbled from the corner of her mouth. Eyes wide - there's a good chance she would have blushed if all the blood wasn't currently escaping from her shoulder. He wasn't quick to move his fingers away, not that she minded, though she was hardly in shape to do much of anything - instead, she parts her lips, "Definitely a heartbreaker," she comments after a moment, having to clear her throat for a moment before Spencer lists off his instructions. She's not surprised but still dreading the thought of the pressure change. Shakily, her bloody fingers lift to quickly swap positions, a groan releasing through her lips, her forehead dotted with beads of sweat. Panting heavily, she's not entirely aware of what Brennan is doing except that he seemed to be rummaging for something. Instead, her chocolate eyes roll downwards, glancing at Barney who stands like a sentinel, his massive head now resting on the couch. Unable to touch him, she simply coos at him, a weak smile tugging at her lips though even that small action exhausts her.
She begins to ramble, a nervous tick for what was to come. When she finishes, Brennan's dry remark has her shifting her tired gaze back to him, an airy laugh flowing through her dry lips, "Oh please, I'm pretty sure he's the one who found me but if you're that jealous... well, I guess I'll make it up to you when you make me all better," she says breathily, even managing to toss the warlock a wink. "Even washed up mermaids pay their debt," she states before glancing down at the assortment of medical supplies. Her mouth goes dry at the bottle of rubbing alcohol, knowing exactly what was to come. It's Brennan's comment that his her gaze returning to him, her head leaning a little farther back into the couch, "I could see that... you don't really seem like the type to take orders from someone. Although, I think you would let a pretty girl boss you around," Raylin comments, a mischievous glint to her eyes before continuing, "Glad to hear you don't have to chop off my arm, but... I could survive without an arm, I leg, well, I'd be very sad if I couldn't surf anymore," she states, feigning sadness though she can't help but dart a look at Barney. Oh, he was cute alright but she didn't want that tongue anywhere near her at the moment.
Brennan's reassurance that he would, in fact, not let the dog lick at her wounds was weirdly comforting. Not that she actually thought the warlock would let his dog lap at her, it still made her feel a little better. "Actually, I think I'd prefer Barney," she lies, though she can't help the wide look she gives the rubbing alcohol. Man, that was going to hurt like a bitch. She continues only after a moment, her words laced with innuendo and a sheepish look crossing her features. His response is quick, her brows raising slightly at him, "Oh please, have you really had a woman scream your name?" She harasses him again before taking a deep breath, his instructions weighing heavily on her as her whole body stiffens. She hardly feels the way he brushes her hair away and pulls down the strap of her tank top. If she weren't so panicked by what was to come, she might have made a quip about him undressing her before there was any foreplay. Raylin doesn't do what he asks, instead she simply watches Brennan as if he were in slow motion, pull her hand away and begin to inspect the wound. Her adrenaline spiked so high that she doesn't feel the pain of the releasing pressure, or the way he dabs gently around the shredded skin. "I'm not counti-," she's cut off as Brennan abruptly dumbs the alcohol on wound, a shriek escaping her lips so loudly she was certain it was going to break her eardrums. Holy. Fucking. Hell. It was like liquid fire being poured into her. Her bloody hand instictively comes up to swat at Brennan's hand, managing to smear blood all over his arm before the alcohol sloshes across the rest of her, soaking her already blood soaked shirt.
Ray doesn't even realize when he's finished pouring, the liquid fire remaining long after. By the time her ears stop ringing, she had missed the snarl Barney had directed and Brennan but did catch the tail end of the warlock's sentence. Hardly realizing that comment was directed at the dog, Raylin peels open her exhausted eyelids and she falls back into the couch, her body feeling like a million pounds. "You just dumped... alcohol on me you asshole," she croaked out, glaring at him through hooded eyes. "Of course I'm not going to be quiet about it," she says tiredly though her eyes fall close again, he head lolling back. Her arms fall limply to her sides, smearing more blood across the couch - though the woman was far past caring. She must have fallen unconscious for a moment because the question Brennan directs at her has her opening her eyes, tilting her head sideways to glance at him, "Yeah... barely," she mumbles, eyes closing again, "I really want to sleep," she admits while her brain starts to shut her body down. "Hurry up and stitch me up... so I can take a nap," she drawls out and though she was only partially joking, she could definitely feel herself shifting into that blackness at the back of her mind.