Man vs Wild (Dean, ensemble, PG-13) 4/5
Title: Man vs Wild 4/5
Words: 3945
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama/suspense, preseries
Characters: Dean, John, Sam, Bobby
Warnings: Adult language
Disclaimer: I own nothing and Kripke owns my soul.
Summary: Victim of a prank, Dean gets lost in the woods in some podunk town. Unfortunately, he isn't alone.
A/N: This one got a little away from me and may seem to end weird, which is why I'm going to add a short part 5 as a conclussion. Also, not one part of this story has been beta'd. Unless you count me as my own beta. I try my damnedest to catch everything but if you do happen to see a no-no, feel free to let me know. Originally posted on September 17, 2009.
Previous Parts
Part Four
If he had been anywhere else, like maybe inside their rental with walls and doors and shit to keep him safe, Dean would think it was a beautiful night. He could see the stars through the trees and make out the tiny sliver of the moon ever so often. It was kind of peaceful if he discounted the fact that something was hunting him instead of the other way around. He wondered if this is what they felt like; terror running through their mind right before the final blow. That is, if they felt anything at all. Dean didn't like to think of things like that. If it was evil, they killed it. End of story. But this being the victim shit was getting old fast. Trying to navigate through a friggin' maze of trees had gotten old a while ago.
He hadn't realized it but he'd started to babble out loud to himself. That wasn't what caught his attention, though. Dean stopped for a second and stretched his hearing, trying to catch what he'd heard.
Dad? God, how he hoped but knew that wasn't it. He listened. He could hear breathing, raspy and desperate. Something was... Oh shit! Dean took off running, something jumping from the bushes behind him and giving chase. He didn't dare look back for fear of losing momentum. His heart pounded in his ears, loud and unrelenting; with each thundering step he took. He willed himself to go faster, for his legs to stop burning. He could hear it grunting and growling behind him, getting closer. Hell, he could smell it. Later, he'd realize it was the deadening smell of fear coming not from the beast, but from himself. He couldn't breathe. He knew this was it. His eyes stung with unshed tears as everything came into focus. He never shared his shit, he hogged the remote, yelled at Sam, let his dad down... left Sam alone. God, he was going to leave Sam alone.
He was down before he realized what happened. He hit hard, his body tumbling through the forest debris that sliced and scraped his flesh. He grunted to a stop in front of a fallen tree, dazed and unable to breathe. The tears he'd been trying to hold back now fell freely as he could no longer fight the pain enveloping his whole body. He sucked in as much air as he could manage and screamed, his voice hoarse and desperate.
"DAD!"
Dark spots danced in front of his eyes and his vision grayed around the edges. The last thing he saw and heard before he fell into oblivion were two cold, dark eyes and the hopeful delusion of his father's voice in the distance calling back to him.
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John's stomach dropped and his heart felt as though it would explode in his chest. His son's scream tore through him and almost made him weak in the knees. Too far away, he thought. He was too God damn far away. They'd never reach him in time. He wasn't even sure Dean had heard him call back but the second his name left John's lips he was running, hoping Bobby wasn't far behind.
It was a good half mile before they saw anything and what they saw momentarily took them aback. It looked like some sort of mangled half man, half wolf; its body motley covered in fur and skin and blood. It was something neither man had really ever seen before. Dean would've said it was some kind of mutated freak from an old monster movie.
It had Dean by his shirt, his son hanging lifeless from the creature's claws. Its muzzle was slowly grazing the skin along Dean's exposed neck. Bobby dropped his duffel on the ground and the beast turned sharply, dropping Dean like a rag-doll. It stood its full height and let out a strangled howl.
"Bobby, what the hell is that?"
John already had his shotgun raised and fired before waiting for an answer. The shot forced the beast back but did little more than piss it off. It ran at them. Another shot had it stumbling and John quickly started to reload, looking back at Bobby, whose own shotgun was on the ground.
"Bobby! What-" John stopped mid sentence when he saw what his friend was reaching for. John didn't have time to do the same and instead finished reloading the buckshot into his sawed off. He got off one more shot before the thing swiped at him, knocking him on his back. Bobby had finally got the magazine loaded in his pistol and took aim, clipping the beast in the shoulder. It yelped, the sound angry and brief. Quickly turning and lunging towards its greatest threat, Bobby had one shot before giant claws tore into him. He wasted no time firing. The shot pierced its heart and it dropped, its death quick.
John stared, his mouth hanging slightly open as he brought his hand up to rest on his bleeding chest. On the ground, less than five feet away, lay the beast. Bobby stood just ahead, his gun slowly lowering. Both men were still until time seemed to speed back up and then John was moving.
"Dean!"
John heard one final shot from Bobby's gun, knowing it was mostly for reassurance that the thing was dead. He didn't care right now. All he cared about was getting to his son. John leapt over the fallen tree and fell to his knees at his son's side. There were a few scrapes on his face but other than that he couldn't tell if Dean had any other injuries.
"Dean? Son, can you hear me? Come on, dude, open your eyes." He was afraid to move him; afraid to touch him at all. He almost didn't hear Bobby approach.
"John?" The rest of the question needn't be said. Is he all right?
"I don't know."
"His arm looks broken." John frowned at that.
"Yeah. Shit." He saw it now, the slight swelling and faint bruising. There could be other things wrong that he couldn't see. Moving him was risky and they couldn't call for help.
"We're not going to get any help out here. Gonna have to move him." It seemed like Bobby was reading his mind. Or John had simply been thinking out loud. He shook his head.
"You take care of that- whatever the hell that thing was?"
"Wanted to check on you two." John glared at him. "Hey, it's dead, all right? Burning it can wait five damn minutes. You're bleeding, by the way." John ignored him.
"I've got Dean. Finish it so we can get the hell out of here." Bobby walked away mumbling something about stubborn jackasses and taking orders or not taking them. John didn't really care. Gently, he scooped Dean into his arms, trying his damnedest not to jostle him. His knees popped when he stood, causing him to grimace. Either he was getting too old or Dean was just too big. Sort of felt like both. A fireman's carry was out of the question because he didn't like the way Dean was breathing. This was going to have to do, whether John's knees/back/whole damn body liked it or not.
John walked as carefully as he could back over to Bobby, who was putting everything back in his duffel. The light from the fire illuminated every scrape on Dean's face and John wished he had an extra hand to brush the dirt caked hair aside and out of Dean's closed eyes. Kid needed a haircut. The thing that finally brought Dean back to consciousness was the putrid smell of burning flesh.
"Nasty." The retort was groggy but John immediately relaxed.
"Dean? Hey, 'bout time, kiddo. You were startin' to worry me."
"Dad? When- Are you carrying me?" He sounded indignant and John couldn't help it. He laughed, the fire dancing off his glistening eyes.
Dean had heavily protested to being carried the rest of the way, assuring both his dad and Bobby that he was fine, and argued to be put down. John was actually happy to oblige, his back already straining against Dean's weight. Dean's height was average for his age but he was bulkier than most 14 year olds; solid and strong, just like a Winchester should be. But that wasn't the only reason he was glad to put Dean down. The boy stunk to high heaven. First order of business after seeing to his arm was a shower.
"Screw that, I'm showering first. There's like, animal shit on me."
Bobby snorted and John reached to tousle Dean's hair before thinking better of it. As filthy as Dean was, though, John didn't want to waste anymore time in getting him checked out.
"What was that thing?" Dean tried to act unaffected but John saw the shudder that ran through him and knew it wasn't just from the chilly night air. Bobby was the one to answer, as John had no clue what to tell him.
"Could've been a skin walker. Hard to tell since it looked like it hadn't made it through the change, but that's my best guess."
"Fugliest thing I've ever seen in my life."
"That's for damn sure." Bobby replied, heartily agreeing.
John caught Dean staring at him before his eyes moved to John's chest. John waved him off.
"I'm fine. It barely touched me."
"Tis but a scratch." Dean spoke in a lousy British accent. John arched an eyebrow at him. "Oh, come on, dad! Monty Python and the Holy Grail? Even Bobby got that one."<
"Then I guess he's cooler than your old man." Dean rolled his eyes. "You sure you're okay to walk?"
"I broke my arm, not my legs." John gave him a pointed stare, telling Dean just how much he appreciated his smart assed reply. Dean gave him a cheeky smile. "Sir."
"And how did that happen?" The smile disappeared from Dean's face quickly.
"Ifelloutofatree." Dean mumbled.
"I didn't catch that."
"I fell out of a damn tree! Okay? Can we go?" Dean didn't wait for an answer and started walking, only to stop and turn when Bobby let out a loud whistle. Both John and Bobby hiked their thumbs in the other direction.
"We're never going camping, ever." Dean grumbled as he walked past them.
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While Dean seemed to be no worse for wear, he was quiet on the long hike back. Part of him wanted to give in and tell his dad how scared out of his mind he'd been. An even bigger part wished he could've let his pride go and take back what he said about being fine. Sure, physically, he wasn't so bad off. His arm would need a cast and he was going to be pretty damn sore for days, but what hit him the hardest was that he was exhausted. It was all he could do just to keep putting one foot in front of the other. He wanted to shower, definitely, but he wished the trip to the clinic in town could wait until tomorrow because all he wanted to do was climb into bed and burrow himself as deep as he could and sleep. That is, if his mind would let him. He hasn't had a real nightmare for a while but he knew this day would haunt him. He was pretty sure that once he was checked out, they'd be moving on again and he was glad. Part of him felt a little gypped, though. He badly wanted to get a piece of those guys that dumped him out there.
God, he was lucky. This could've ended much worse and there wasn't anything worse than dead. He didn't know what happened between passing out (he was so leaving that part out when he retold this story) and waking up. He knew his dad got "scratched" and the thing was dead. What he couldn't figure out was why he wasn't dead. He thought for sure he was a goner.
John saw the lines of exhaustion on his son's face and every time Dean pinched his brow. He worried Dean hadn't been truthful about how "fine" he was. He taught his boys to suck up a lot of things but if something serious was going on, he needed to know about it.
"Dean, you okay?" Dean stumbled a little when he turned his head. John grabbed his good arm to steady him. Once he got his bearings, Dean started walking again.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good."
"You sure that fall didn't-"
"Just bruises. Really, dad, I'm okay. Just tired is all." Dean bit his lip in contemplation. "Dad? Why didn't it kill me? Pretty sure you two didn't just magically appear the second it caught me."
Again, it was Bobby that answered. "Not to sound crass, but skin walkers are known to play with their food, so to speak."
"I didn't know skin walkers ate people."
"Some do. There's more than one kind of skin walker." John answered.
"You sure that's what it was?"
"Nope. But it's dead so I don't give a rat's ass at this point." Dean smirked at Bobby. He could tell his dad didn't completely agree. It was a little odd. Normally, Bobby liked to have all the answers, just like dad did.
"Wait a minute. You two came charging in here without knowing what you were up against? You broke your own rules?! Tsk tsk, guys."
"If we waited, you'd be dead."
Dean went quiet again. There wasn't really a comeback for that.
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About five minutes from their place, Dean started to get anxious. It wasn't everyday that you thought you were going to die. He'd had some intense thoughts near the end and quite frankly, they were giving him a headache. But the one that stuck out the most was Sam. He was glad his dad left him behind but he didn't like his little brother being on his own like that. He knew well enough that too many bad things could happen when Sam was left alone.
"You leave Sam alone?" It wasn't really a question.
"He's fine, Dean."
Dean wasn't so sure. He knew Sam probably wasn't told anything but that was almost worse sometimes. The imagination was a dangerous place in this line of work and Dean had too much experience with that for the day.
"I know. I mean, it was safer leaving him behind it's just-"
"Just what?"
"You know how he gets when he worries."
“He’ll be fine once we get back.”
Yeah, maybe. He wanted to say more; a lot more. He was pretty sure his dad wouldn't appreciate it though. John hadn't been too happy to find out Dean had basically told Sam everything when he finally did make it home after that Christmas two years ago. It wasn't like Dean had much of a choice in the matter thanks to Sam's snooping. It didn't matter. Sam knew the truth now and Dean was actually happy he didn't have to lie to him anymore. The big flaw in that was now that Sam knew, it was a lot harder to protect him from the stuff most 10 year olds had nightmares about because Sam knew that stuff was real. The monster under his bed could really get him. So yeah, he hated leaving his brother behind with nothing more to do than worry.
When they pulled into the drive and parked, John and Bobby immediately got out of the car. Dean realized he'd have to move eventually but now that every last bit of adrenaline was gone, he felt like he weighed a ton. He didn't notice his dad come around to his door and he started when it was swung open.
"You got this?" Dean wanted to say no. He felt like telling him to just leave him there and he'll sleep in the car. He heaved a huge sigh and swung his legs around.
"Does a bear shit in the woods?" Dean responded, exasperated, then grimaced at his choice of words. Thankfully, John let that one slide.
The front door was wrenched open before any of them even got to it and Sam came rushing at them.
"Dean! Are you okay?"
"Of course I'm okay. Dad's the one that's bleeding." John grunted and shook his head. Dean Winchester, master of deflection.
"Dad?"
"I'm fine. We're all fine. What did I tell you about opening doors before you know what was outside?"
"What? I knew it was you."
"Sam-"
"Are y'all gonna stand out here shootin' the shit or you going inside? I'm sure Dean's wanting that shower. Hell, being trapped in a car with him, I feel like I need one now."
"Hey, I don't smell that bad!" Dean called after Bobby's retreating form.
"We're tossin' those clothes. Go on, get in and clean up."
"What about, you know?"
"Clinics closed for the night and the nearest ER is over 30 miles away. It'll wait till morning. Just gonna have to be careful."
"Why? I thought you said you were fine?" Sam directed the question at John, narrowing his eyes. He didn't seem to notice the way Dean was holding his arm.
"Ask your brother." John hauled up the rest of his gear and walked past them, inside. Dean glared at him then turned back to Sam, putting on his best "I'm okay" face.
"I'm fine, Sam, really. Just hurt my arm a little."
"More than a little if dad wants it checked out."
"It's nothing."
"Liar. You break it?"
"I fell on it."
"You broke it."
"Whatever."
"Dean-"
"Going inside now."
He hated it when Sam worried. It always turned into annoyance.
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While Dean was in the shower and Sam was seemingly guarding the door, for what John didn't know, he and Bobby went outside after a quick beer. Bobby had already said his good-byes, needing to get back on the road and home. John walked his friend to his truck and shoved his hands in his pockets. He was frazzled but his face was all business.
"Something on your mind, John?"
"How did I miss it? How the hell didn't I know that it was just some skin walker?"
"Maybe because it wasn't just some skin walker? John, I don't know exactly what that thing was. If it was a skin walker, it sure as hell ain't in the right region. Could've been a fluke, hell it could've been some nut job that couldn't handle the shit they were delving into. Truth is, we won't ever know for sure." John opened his mouth to argue that point. "And don't start with that need to know shit. Deal with it."
"Doesn't look like I have much of a choice, now do I?"
"Nope. John, Dean was lucky. Hell, we were lucky. Remember that."
"Yeah. I'll see ya, Bobby." Bobby nodded, stepping into his truck.
"If you're lookin' to lay low for a bit, you and the boys are welcome to stay at mine."
John nodded. "I'll let you know." The offer was out there but Bobby knew there was a 50/50 chance that John would actually take him up on it. He wasn't going to dwell on it. Either he'd see John in a day or so or he wouldn't. He gave a final wave and then drove off.
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Dean finished with his shower, feeling a little better. He had some ugly bruises forming on his chest and his arm was still throbbing but he felt clean at least. He swiped his hand across the steam covered mirror and stared at his face, furrowing his brow at the scrape on his cheek. Must've happened when I fell, he thought. It had burned slightly in the shower but he ignored it. His mind was too preoccupied with other things. One of those things was standing at the door when he opened it, startling him and causing him to jump.
"Jesus Christ, Sam! What the hell, dude?"
"Sorry. I-" He paused and looked down at his socked feet. "I didn't meant to scare you."
Dean scoffed, albeit not very convincingly. "You didn't scare me, dweeb. Why were guarding the door like a loser?"
Sam crossed his arms over his chest and quirked an eyebrow. "Why won't you admit I scared you?"
"Uh, maybe because I've seen scarier shit tonight than my 10 year old, dork of a brother?"
"Better not let dad here you cussing."
"I'm pretty sure I've got a green flag on that front. Besides, I'm fourteen now. Practically an adult. You gonna move or do I have to stand here with my junk in the breeze all night?"
Sam stepped to the side but followed Dean to their room. Dean sighed, exasperated.
"Dude, this ain't a peep show."
Sam rolled his eyes but turned around while Dean got dressed. Neither spoke for the next few minutes but Dean knew something was weighing heavy on Sam's mind. That something wasn't exactly what Dean expected.
"I read dad's research." Sam all but blurted. Dean's first instinct was to be pissed because Sam knew to stay away from dad's things. But then he took a better look at his brother. The kid looked like a wreck. Dean saw some of that research himself before living through the real thing. He took a deep breath and let it out through his nose in a huff.
"You know you weren't supposed to. Guess you know why now, huh?"
"I thought-" Sam stopped, looking frustrated. "I hate when he doesn't tell us things. He always goes off and I never know anything and it- I just hate it. I thought I would feel better if I looked." Dean was pretty sure Sam stopped himself from saying It scares me.
"Did you?" Sam was quiet. "Yeah, I figured."
"That could've been you." Sam spoke so quietly, Dean almost didn't hear him. He was quickly learning to hate this part. Ever since dad had started to let Dean come with him on hunts, he had to reassure Sam more and more.
"It wasn't. It won't be. Dad would never let anything happen to us, Sam. I knew he'd find me." It wasn't the honest truth. He didn't know dad would find him, he only hoped. He wasn't going to tell Sam that.
"I hate this."
"You've said that like a million times. I hate to break it to you, but you're gonna have to suck it up. Besides, it's not all guts and gore. We get to shoot evil sons of bitches and save the day. That's pretty damn awesome."
"I guess."
"You guess? Dude, you're so lame."
"Dude, you're the one that got your ass handed to you today. You're lame."
"I'm gonna let that one slide, Samual." Sam jumped and whirled around to see John leaning against the door frame.
"Dean cusses." As if that was a good argument.
"Dean's older." Even as he said it, John glared at his oldest. Dean merely shrugged and insinuated that Sam was crazy, making a twirling motion with his finger at his head. Sam caught him and reared back to punch him. The blow was light compared to what he knew Sam could pelt out but he winced anyway, smirking when Sam got yelled at.
"He did that on purpose."
"Enough, you two." John was inwardly glad that they both seemed to be acting pretty normal, despite what happened tonight. He knew Dean would talk Sam down and he was relieved. Still, he was sure neither of his boys would be sleeping well tonight.
End Part 4
Words: 3945
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama/suspense, preseries
Characters: Dean, John, Sam, Bobby
Warnings: Adult language
Disclaimer: I own nothing and Kripke owns my soul.
Summary: Victim of a prank, Dean gets lost in the woods in some podunk town. Unfortunately, he isn't alone.
A/N: This one got a little away from me and may seem to end weird, which is why I'm going to add a short part 5 as a conclussion. Also, not one part of this story has been beta'd. Unless you count me as my own beta. I try my damnedest to catch everything but if you do happen to see a no-no, feel free to let me know. Originally posted on September 17, 2009.
Previous Parts
Part Four
If he had been anywhere else, like maybe inside their rental with walls and doors and shit to keep him safe, Dean would think it was a beautiful night. He could see the stars through the trees and make out the tiny sliver of the moon ever so often. It was kind of peaceful if he discounted the fact that something was hunting him instead of the other way around. He wondered if this is what they felt like; terror running through their mind right before the final blow. That is, if they felt anything at all. Dean didn't like to think of things like that. If it was evil, they killed it. End of story. But this being the victim shit was getting old fast. Trying to navigate through a friggin' maze of trees had gotten old a while ago.
He hadn't realized it but he'd started to babble out loud to himself. That wasn't what caught his attention, though. Dean stopped for a second and stretched his hearing, trying to catch what he'd heard.
Dad? God, how he hoped but knew that wasn't it. He listened. He could hear breathing, raspy and desperate. Something was... Oh shit! Dean took off running, something jumping from the bushes behind him and giving chase. He didn't dare look back for fear of losing momentum. His heart pounded in his ears, loud and unrelenting; with each thundering step he took. He willed himself to go faster, for his legs to stop burning. He could hear it grunting and growling behind him, getting closer. Hell, he could smell it. Later, he'd realize it was the deadening smell of fear coming not from the beast, but from himself. He couldn't breathe. He knew this was it. His eyes stung with unshed tears as everything came into focus. He never shared his shit, he hogged the remote, yelled at Sam, let his dad down... left Sam alone. God, he was going to leave Sam alone.
He was down before he realized what happened. He hit hard, his body tumbling through the forest debris that sliced and scraped his flesh. He grunted to a stop in front of a fallen tree, dazed and unable to breathe. The tears he'd been trying to hold back now fell freely as he could no longer fight the pain enveloping his whole body. He sucked in as much air as he could manage and screamed, his voice hoarse and desperate.
"DAD!"
Dark spots danced in front of his eyes and his vision grayed around the edges. The last thing he saw and heard before he fell into oblivion were two cold, dark eyes and the hopeful delusion of his father's voice in the distance calling back to him.
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John's stomach dropped and his heart felt as though it would explode in his chest. His son's scream tore through him and almost made him weak in the knees. Too far away, he thought. He was too God damn far away. They'd never reach him in time. He wasn't even sure Dean had heard him call back but the second his name left John's lips he was running, hoping Bobby wasn't far behind.
It was a good half mile before they saw anything and what they saw momentarily took them aback. It looked like some sort of mangled half man, half wolf; its body motley covered in fur and skin and blood. It was something neither man had really ever seen before. Dean would've said it was some kind of mutated freak from an old monster movie.
It had Dean by his shirt, his son hanging lifeless from the creature's claws. Its muzzle was slowly grazing the skin along Dean's exposed neck. Bobby dropped his duffel on the ground and the beast turned sharply, dropping Dean like a rag-doll. It stood its full height and let out a strangled howl.
"Bobby, what the hell is that?"
John already had his shotgun raised and fired before waiting for an answer. The shot forced the beast back but did little more than piss it off. It ran at them. Another shot had it stumbling and John quickly started to reload, looking back at Bobby, whose own shotgun was on the ground.
"Bobby! What-" John stopped mid sentence when he saw what his friend was reaching for. John didn't have time to do the same and instead finished reloading the buckshot into his sawed off. He got off one more shot before the thing swiped at him, knocking him on his back. Bobby had finally got the magazine loaded in his pistol and took aim, clipping the beast in the shoulder. It yelped, the sound angry and brief. Quickly turning and lunging towards its greatest threat, Bobby had one shot before giant claws tore into him. He wasted no time firing. The shot pierced its heart and it dropped, its death quick.
John stared, his mouth hanging slightly open as he brought his hand up to rest on his bleeding chest. On the ground, less than five feet away, lay the beast. Bobby stood just ahead, his gun slowly lowering. Both men were still until time seemed to speed back up and then John was moving.
"Dean!"
John heard one final shot from Bobby's gun, knowing it was mostly for reassurance that the thing was dead. He didn't care right now. All he cared about was getting to his son. John leapt over the fallen tree and fell to his knees at his son's side. There were a few scrapes on his face but other than that he couldn't tell if Dean had any other injuries.
"Dean? Son, can you hear me? Come on, dude, open your eyes." He was afraid to move him; afraid to touch him at all. He almost didn't hear Bobby approach.
"John?" The rest of the question needn't be said. Is he all right?
"I don't know."
"His arm looks broken." John frowned at that.
"Yeah. Shit." He saw it now, the slight swelling and faint bruising. There could be other things wrong that he couldn't see. Moving him was risky and they couldn't call for help.
"We're not going to get any help out here. Gonna have to move him." It seemed like Bobby was reading his mind. Or John had simply been thinking out loud. He shook his head.
"You take care of that- whatever the hell that thing was?"
"Wanted to check on you two." John glared at him. "Hey, it's dead, all right? Burning it can wait five damn minutes. You're bleeding, by the way." John ignored him.
"I've got Dean. Finish it so we can get the hell out of here." Bobby walked away mumbling something about stubborn jackasses and taking orders or not taking them. John didn't really care. Gently, he scooped Dean into his arms, trying his damnedest not to jostle him. His knees popped when he stood, causing him to grimace. Either he was getting too old or Dean was just too big. Sort of felt like both. A fireman's carry was out of the question because he didn't like the way Dean was breathing. This was going to have to do, whether John's knees/back/whole damn body liked it or not.
John walked as carefully as he could back over to Bobby, who was putting everything back in his duffel. The light from the fire illuminated every scrape on Dean's face and John wished he had an extra hand to brush the dirt caked hair aside and out of Dean's closed eyes. Kid needed a haircut. The thing that finally brought Dean back to consciousness was the putrid smell of burning flesh.
"Nasty." The retort was groggy but John immediately relaxed.
"Dean? Hey, 'bout time, kiddo. You were startin' to worry me."
"Dad? When- Are you carrying me?" He sounded indignant and John couldn't help it. He laughed, the fire dancing off his glistening eyes.
Dean had heavily protested to being carried the rest of the way, assuring both his dad and Bobby that he was fine, and argued to be put down. John was actually happy to oblige, his back already straining against Dean's weight. Dean's height was average for his age but he was bulkier than most 14 year olds; solid and strong, just like a Winchester should be. But that wasn't the only reason he was glad to put Dean down. The boy stunk to high heaven. First order of business after seeing to his arm was a shower.
"Screw that, I'm showering first. There's like, animal shit on me."
Bobby snorted and John reached to tousle Dean's hair before thinking better of it. As filthy as Dean was, though, John didn't want to waste anymore time in getting him checked out.
"What was that thing?" Dean tried to act unaffected but John saw the shudder that ran through him and knew it wasn't just from the chilly night air. Bobby was the one to answer, as John had no clue what to tell him.
"Could've been a skin walker. Hard to tell since it looked like it hadn't made it through the change, but that's my best guess."
"Fugliest thing I've ever seen in my life."
"That's for damn sure." Bobby replied, heartily agreeing.
John caught Dean staring at him before his eyes moved to John's chest. John waved him off.
"I'm fine. It barely touched me."
"Tis but a scratch." Dean spoke in a lousy British accent. John arched an eyebrow at him. "Oh, come on, dad! Monty Python and the Holy Grail? Even Bobby got that one."<
"Then I guess he's cooler than your old man." Dean rolled his eyes. "You sure you're okay to walk?"
"I broke my arm, not my legs." John gave him a pointed stare, telling Dean just how much he appreciated his smart assed reply. Dean gave him a cheeky smile. "Sir."
"And how did that happen?" The smile disappeared from Dean's face quickly.
"Ifelloutofatree." Dean mumbled.
"I didn't catch that."
"I fell out of a damn tree! Okay? Can we go?" Dean didn't wait for an answer and started walking, only to stop and turn when Bobby let out a loud whistle. Both John and Bobby hiked their thumbs in the other direction.
"We're never going camping, ever." Dean grumbled as he walked past them.
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While Dean seemed to be no worse for wear, he was quiet on the long hike back. Part of him wanted to give in and tell his dad how scared out of his mind he'd been. An even bigger part wished he could've let his pride go and take back what he said about being fine. Sure, physically, he wasn't so bad off. His arm would need a cast and he was going to be pretty damn sore for days, but what hit him the hardest was that he was exhausted. It was all he could do just to keep putting one foot in front of the other. He wanted to shower, definitely, but he wished the trip to the clinic in town could wait until tomorrow because all he wanted to do was climb into bed and burrow himself as deep as he could and sleep. That is, if his mind would let him. He hasn't had a real nightmare for a while but he knew this day would haunt him. He was pretty sure that once he was checked out, they'd be moving on again and he was glad. Part of him felt a little gypped, though. He badly wanted to get a piece of those guys that dumped him out there.
God, he was lucky. This could've ended much worse and there wasn't anything worse than dead. He didn't know what happened between passing out (he was so leaving that part out when he retold this story) and waking up. He knew his dad got "scratched" and the thing was dead. What he couldn't figure out was why he wasn't dead. He thought for sure he was a goner.
John saw the lines of exhaustion on his son's face and every time Dean pinched his brow. He worried Dean hadn't been truthful about how "fine" he was. He taught his boys to suck up a lot of things but if something serious was going on, he needed to know about it.
"Dean, you okay?" Dean stumbled a little when he turned his head. John grabbed his good arm to steady him. Once he got his bearings, Dean started walking again.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good."
"You sure that fall didn't-"
"Just bruises. Really, dad, I'm okay. Just tired is all." Dean bit his lip in contemplation. "Dad? Why didn't it kill me? Pretty sure you two didn't just magically appear the second it caught me."
Again, it was Bobby that answered. "Not to sound crass, but skin walkers are known to play with their food, so to speak."
"I didn't know skin walkers ate people."
"Some do. There's more than one kind of skin walker." John answered.
"You sure that's what it was?"
"Nope. But it's dead so I don't give a rat's ass at this point." Dean smirked at Bobby. He could tell his dad didn't completely agree. It was a little odd. Normally, Bobby liked to have all the answers, just like dad did.
"Wait a minute. You two came charging in here without knowing what you were up against? You broke your own rules?! Tsk tsk, guys."
"If we waited, you'd be dead."
Dean went quiet again. There wasn't really a comeback for that.
----------
About five minutes from their place, Dean started to get anxious. It wasn't everyday that you thought you were going to die. He'd had some intense thoughts near the end and quite frankly, they were giving him a headache. But the one that stuck out the most was Sam. He was glad his dad left him behind but he didn't like his little brother being on his own like that. He knew well enough that too many bad things could happen when Sam was left alone.
"You leave Sam alone?" It wasn't really a question.
"He's fine, Dean."
Dean wasn't so sure. He knew Sam probably wasn't told anything but that was almost worse sometimes. The imagination was a dangerous place in this line of work and Dean had too much experience with that for the day.
"I know. I mean, it was safer leaving him behind it's just-"
"Just what?"
"You know how he gets when he worries."
“He’ll be fine once we get back.”
Yeah, maybe. He wanted to say more; a lot more. He was pretty sure his dad wouldn't appreciate it though. John hadn't been too happy to find out Dean had basically told Sam everything when he finally did make it home after that Christmas two years ago. It wasn't like Dean had much of a choice in the matter thanks to Sam's snooping. It didn't matter. Sam knew the truth now and Dean was actually happy he didn't have to lie to him anymore. The big flaw in that was now that Sam knew, it was a lot harder to protect him from the stuff most 10 year olds had nightmares about because Sam knew that stuff was real. The monster under his bed could really get him. So yeah, he hated leaving his brother behind with nothing more to do than worry.
When they pulled into the drive and parked, John and Bobby immediately got out of the car. Dean realized he'd have to move eventually but now that every last bit of adrenaline was gone, he felt like he weighed a ton. He didn't notice his dad come around to his door and he started when it was swung open.
"You got this?" Dean wanted to say no. He felt like telling him to just leave him there and he'll sleep in the car. He heaved a huge sigh and swung his legs around.
"Does a bear shit in the woods?" Dean responded, exasperated, then grimaced at his choice of words. Thankfully, John let that one slide.
The front door was wrenched open before any of them even got to it and Sam came rushing at them.
"Dean! Are you okay?"
"Of course I'm okay. Dad's the one that's bleeding." John grunted and shook his head. Dean Winchester, master of deflection.
"Dad?"
"I'm fine. We're all fine. What did I tell you about opening doors before you know what was outside?"
"What? I knew it was you."
"Sam-"
"Are y'all gonna stand out here shootin' the shit or you going inside? I'm sure Dean's wanting that shower. Hell, being trapped in a car with him, I feel like I need one now."
"Hey, I don't smell that bad!" Dean called after Bobby's retreating form.
"We're tossin' those clothes. Go on, get in and clean up."
"What about, you know?"
"Clinics closed for the night and the nearest ER is over 30 miles away. It'll wait till morning. Just gonna have to be careful."
"Why? I thought you said you were fine?" Sam directed the question at John, narrowing his eyes. He didn't seem to notice the way Dean was holding his arm.
"Ask your brother." John hauled up the rest of his gear and walked past them, inside. Dean glared at him then turned back to Sam, putting on his best "I'm okay" face.
"I'm fine, Sam, really. Just hurt my arm a little."
"More than a little if dad wants it checked out."
"It's nothing."
"Liar. You break it?"
"I fell on it."
"You broke it."
"Whatever."
"Dean-"
"Going inside now."
He hated it when Sam worried. It always turned into annoyance.
----------
While Dean was in the shower and Sam was seemingly guarding the door, for what John didn't know, he and Bobby went outside after a quick beer. Bobby had already said his good-byes, needing to get back on the road and home. John walked his friend to his truck and shoved his hands in his pockets. He was frazzled but his face was all business.
"Something on your mind, John?"
"How did I miss it? How the hell didn't I know that it was just some skin walker?"
"Maybe because it wasn't just some skin walker? John, I don't know exactly what that thing was. If it was a skin walker, it sure as hell ain't in the right region. Could've been a fluke, hell it could've been some nut job that couldn't handle the shit they were delving into. Truth is, we won't ever know for sure." John opened his mouth to argue that point. "And don't start with that need to know shit. Deal with it."
"Doesn't look like I have much of a choice, now do I?"
"Nope. John, Dean was lucky. Hell, we were lucky. Remember that."
"Yeah. I'll see ya, Bobby." Bobby nodded, stepping into his truck.
"If you're lookin' to lay low for a bit, you and the boys are welcome to stay at mine."
John nodded. "I'll let you know." The offer was out there but Bobby knew there was a 50/50 chance that John would actually take him up on it. He wasn't going to dwell on it. Either he'd see John in a day or so or he wouldn't. He gave a final wave and then drove off.
----------
Dean finished with his shower, feeling a little better. He had some ugly bruises forming on his chest and his arm was still throbbing but he felt clean at least. He swiped his hand across the steam covered mirror and stared at his face, furrowing his brow at the scrape on his cheek. Must've happened when I fell, he thought. It had burned slightly in the shower but he ignored it. His mind was too preoccupied with other things. One of those things was standing at the door when he opened it, startling him and causing him to jump.
"Jesus Christ, Sam! What the hell, dude?"
"Sorry. I-" He paused and looked down at his socked feet. "I didn't meant to scare you."
Dean scoffed, albeit not very convincingly. "You didn't scare me, dweeb. Why were guarding the door like a loser?"
Sam crossed his arms over his chest and quirked an eyebrow. "Why won't you admit I scared you?"
"Uh, maybe because I've seen scarier shit tonight than my 10 year old, dork of a brother?"
"Better not let dad here you cussing."
"I'm pretty sure I've got a green flag on that front. Besides, I'm fourteen now. Practically an adult. You gonna move or do I have to stand here with my junk in the breeze all night?"
Sam stepped to the side but followed Dean to their room. Dean sighed, exasperated.
"Dude, this ain't a peep show."
Sam rolled his eyes but turned around while Dean got dressed. Neither spoke for the next few minutes but Dean knew something was weighing heavy on Sam's mind. That something wasn't exactly what Dean expected.
"I read dad's research." Sam all but blurted. Dean's first instinct was to be pissed because Sam knew to stay away from dad's things. But then he took a better look at his brother. The kid looked like a wreck. Dean saw some of that research himself before living through the real thing. He took a deep breath and let it out through his nose in a huff.
"You know you weren't supposed to. Guess you know why now, huh?"
"I thought-" Sam stopped, looking frustrated. "I hate when he doesn't tell us things. He always goes off and I never know anything and it- I just hate it. I thought I would feel better if I looked." Dean was pretty sure Sam stopped himself from saying It scares me.
"Did you?" Sam was quiet. "Yeah, I figured."
"That could've been you." Sam spoke so quietly, Dean almost didn't hear him. He was quickly learning to hate this part. Ever since dad had started to let Dean come with him on hunts, he had to reassure Sam more and more.
"It wasn't. It won't be. Dad would never let anything happen to us, Sam. I knew he'd find me." It wasn't the honest truth. He didn't know dad would find him, he only hoped. He wasn't going to tell Sam that.
"I hate this."
"You've said that like a million times. I hate to break it to you, but you're gonna have to suck it up. Besides, it's not all guts and gore. We get to shoot evil sons of bitches and save the day. That's pretty damn awesome."
"I guess."
"You guess? Dude, you're so lame."
"Dude, you're the one that got your ass handed to you today. You're lame."
"I'm gonna let that one slide, Samual." Sam jumped and whirled around to see John leaning against the door frame.
"Dean cusses." As if that was a good argument.
"Dean's older." Even as he said it, John glared at his oldest. Dean merely shrugged and insinuated that Sam was crazy, making a twirling motion with his finger at his head. Sam caught him and reared back to punch him. The blow was light compared to what he knew Sam could pelt out but he winced anyway, smirking when Sam got yelled at.
"He did that on purpose."
"Enough, you two." John was inwardly glad that they both seemed to be acting pretty normal, despite what happened tonight. He knew Dean would talk Sam down and he was relieved. Still, he was sure neither of his boys would be sleeping well tonight.
End Part 4