Beware The Judderman Chapter 1/?
Title: Beware The Judderman
Author: spnmermaid
Rating: PG-13
Genre/pairing: Gen
Characters: Dean W, Sam W
Word count: 3700 approx (This Part)
Summary: A remote hunt takes a sinister turn when Dean is badly injured and their presence draws some unwanted attention.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Injury, blood, swearing
Disclaimer: In my mind they're all mine
This is my first time posting a story on Livejournal, there will be more chapters to come.
Beware the Judderman my dear when the moon is fat.
It was almost silent.
It had started just after midnight; it was hard to believe that much snow could fall in twenty minutes. It fell from the sky in thick flurries, swiftly blanketing the earth in a soft white canvas. The darkness of the night was illuminated by the gentle white crystals, and the moon shining through the bare branches of the trees.
It was perfect. Like something from a Christmas card. Just the stars twinkling gently through the thick snowflakes, the bright full moon, the trees, the church, the untouched snow. It was perfect, far away from civilisation, just the pure beauty of nature.
The snow fell quickly, muffling the world, hushing everything to sleep with its softness.
He could look at it forever, just stay there in the snow, blinking it from his lashes, treasuring this perfect moment when the world was at peace. He kept coming back to that word. Perfect.
And it was perfect. It could be so perfect, so perfect with the pure white snow, and the blissful silence, if it wasn’t for his brother yammering continuously in his ear. On those Christmas cards there was never someone talking and ruining the moment. It was just a perfect moment, frozen in time.
He wished his brother would shut up, just for a little while, just so they could cherish the perfect moment they got so few of.
He gazed at the view in front of him; it did look just like a Christmas card. The silence, the thick white snow. His brother was ruining the silence of course, and he was pretty sure that on Christmas cards the snow wasn’t smeared with red.
Of course the trouble with perfect pictures is that you only see one tiny section of the scene. You don’t see the guy with the camera or any of the people that tagged along with him. All you see is the world, frozen in one perfect moment. So as long as he kept his eyes on his perfect moment, then he wouldn’t have to think about how they messed up the world behind the camera.
He’d managed to zone out much of what was being said, he was more irritated that his brother seemed determined to destroy one of his only moments of peace. But then a hand was on his cheek, turning his face away from the perfect scene, it slid away to his right and was replaced by a shaggy head, and big brown eyes. The falling snow behind his brother gave the impression of a halo. He scoffed at the irony and made himself focus on what was being said to him.
“Come on Dean! Stay with me!”
“Huh?”
“Damn it Dean you have to stay awake! Just keep talking to me!”
“What the hell are you talking about Sam? I don’t have to do anything.” He tried to turn his head back to the right, to get back to the peace, where he didn’t have to think about the sickening bloody trail behind them. But a sharp slap to the face brought him back to Sam, the retort died on his tongue when he saw the look in his brother’s eyes. He was frightened.
“Just stay with me, ok? Promise me!”
“Fine! I promise.”
He wondered what his brother was getting so pissy about, always trying to ruin his good time.
“Damn it Dean you lost a lot of blood.”
That wasn’t aimed at him, more Sam venting out of worry and panic. Reluctantly Dean glanced down at what Sam was doing, his shaking hands busying themselves around Dean’s body.
Huh, there really was a lot of blood, he was pretty irritated that it had ruined the picturesque scene, but the snow was falling fast so maybe it’d cover it. He couldn’t actually tell where the blood was coming from; it was all just a sickly red mess. He couldn’t feel any pain, couldn’t feel much of anything come to think of it, but Sam seemed to know what was going on so that was ok.
It occurred to him that he was laying down, he didn’t remember lying down, shouldn’t he be cold? Lying on the ground in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night, in the middle of a snowstorm should make him cold shouldn’t it? Maybe he was, maybe he’d ask Sam.
“Sam?”
“It’s ok Dean, don’t worry, everything’ll be fine!”
Sam didn’t seem to be listening to him.
“Ssssammy?”
He was rewarded with a distracted “Yeah Dean.”
“Why am I on the ground?...Should I be cold?”
Sam paused at that, glanced at his brother’s face, muttered a quick expletive and began shrugging out of his jacket. Dean tried to push himself up on his elbows.
“No dude, it’s ok...... I’m not cold, just uh... wondered if I should be. But I’m not so it’s ok.” The waning strength in his arms gave out and he flopped onto his back in the snow. Sam was being eerily quiet, kneeling beside Dean with his jacket in his hands, as if not sure what to do with it.
“Dean, I don’t...”
Great, Sam was freaking out. On some level he knew that if Sam quit then he was totally screwed.
“What’s wrong Sammy?”
“Y...you’ve lost a lot of blood and the um... I can’t leave you to get help...’cause if I leave you then you’ll...”
“I’ll what? You worry too much Sam, why don’t...” He trailed off as his gaze shifted back to the perfect view “I like the snow Sam. It makes everything quiet and...white...” He wanted Sam to enjoy the simple moment too, but for some reason couldn’t quite convey what he wanted to say. Maybe he was cold.
He felt like he was in a giant marshmallow-y bed. His eyes were suddenly heavy, on some level an inner voice was screaming at him to stay awake, but sleep was so very tempting.
Xxx
Earlier
“It’s going to snow.”
“Well then quit playing weatherman and let’s finish up so we’re not stuck out here when it starts.”
“Dude I like the snow.”
“Yeah I know, shoving snowballs down my back and laughing makes it pretty damn obvious.”
“Aw Sammy you’re no fun.”
Sam grumbled and trudged forward. He couldn’t be bothered to give Dean any more ammunition. Truth be told, Dean turned back into a little kid when it snowed, making him damn annoying to hunt with. They’d already clipped the yeti, and it had loped off back to its hideout. It should be easy to finish it off, it was bleeding badly, hopefully it had slunk off somewhere to die, but they couldn’t take that chance, had to make sure the job was done or they’d just end up dragging their asses back here when more mangled bodies turned up.
Sam glanced up at the darkening sky. Crap. It was going to be dark soon and even if they killed it quickly, they’d more than likely end up walking back in the dark and the snow. He was totally calling first shower when they got back, Dean would probably run around in the parking lot anyway, knowing him, building a snow penis or pelting a small child with snowballs.
Eventually the blood trail they’d been following stopped. Just stopped, with nothing to suggest where it had gone. In silence they looked at each other in bewilderment, guns at the ready, both alert for any change in the surroundings. There was nothing.
“What gives?” Hissed Dean “It can’t just vanish.”
“I don’t know, but it can’t be good.”
“Maybe it died and turned into dust like Buffy?”
“Seriously? Do you really think now is the best time for you....”
A rush of brown fur suddenly hurtled out of the undergrowth, knocking Dean’s gun away and taking Sam down with it. Sam hit the ground with a bump, forcing the air out of his lungs, a split-second later he found the incredible weight of the stinking yeti crushing down on him. He was helpless to do anything as the creature reared back with claws ready to strike; Sam braced himself for the feeling of tearing flesh when a bullet embedded itself in the yeti’s shoulder.
In his panic to divert its attention from Sam, Dean had just fired anywhere and wasn’t prepared for the beast to round on him in anger, batting him away with one sweep of a paw, Dean grunted as he felt dirty claws puncture his midsection before he was lifted off his feet and found himself hurtling through the air.
The yeti was on him in an instant, digging its claws into soft flesh, his body screamed in pain as it dawned on him that he was going to be eaten. But the yeti didn’t even have time to open its mouth before a shot to the back of the head sent its brains exploding over Dean’s face.
Dean and the gun fell to the ground in unison and Sam dropped to his knees a second later, jumping over the body of the yeti.
“Dean? Dean, talk to me!”
Dean groaned and instinctively clutched at his stomach. Sam tried to pry his hands away to get a look at the wounds but Dean held on, stubborn as always.
“Dean, you have to let me see.” Sam gently pulled his brothers shaking hands away from his stomach, his own hands were trembling as his Dean’s blood pumped out over them. It wasn’t that bad though. Well it was bad, but he’d seen a lot worse. He fumbled for his cell phone, typical, no signal. Dean’s was the same. He fought down a surge of panic and tried to think. They couldn’t stay here, the hope that someone would stumble upon them was miniscule at best. He also couldn’t leave Dean and go for help, it was miles back to the car, even further to the nearest town, his brother was in shock, he’d lost a lot of blood and it was nearly midnight. Their earlier conversation came screaming back to him, it was going to snow, he could feel it in the air, and even if it didn’t, it was freezing. His brother wouldn’t survive, waiting for Sam to get back with help.
There was only one thing for it, they had to move. At least until they got a signal, Sam could go solo but he daren’t leave Dean alone. Stripping himself of his shirt he tore it into strips, and secured them around the places Dean was bleeding worst.
Dean was shaking badly, his skin pale and sweaty. His eyes somewhat glazed over, breath coming in short pants, the blood spattered on his face was in stark comparison to his waxy complexion.
“Ok, Dean, I know this sucks man but we have to move.”
Dean’s eyes settled on Sam’s face “K Sssammy.”
Sam gingerly pulled Dean to his feet, mindful of his injuries, trying not to aggravate the wounds any more than was necessary. As soon as Dean’s legs straightened beneath him, they tried to crumple again, Sam was fast though, grabbing him round the waist, and dragging Dean’s uninjured arm across his shoulders. He curled his hand around Dean’s middle to keep as much pressure as he could in an attempt to stem the bleeding.
Slowly they began to shuffle their way through the woods, Sam more or less carrying his brother. Dean was doing his best to walk but every step felt like it was splitting him open.
It started to snow. Thick fast flakes descended onto the earth. Sam bit back a groan of anger, shaking his head and blinking to clear his vision.
He had to keep going otherwise he’d freak out completely; they were stranded in the middle of nowhere, in the dark, in the snow. Dean was leaving a horrific trail of red behind them; the amount of blood he was losing did nothing to ease Sam’s worry.
They’d been walking for about fifteen minutes, making agonisingly slow progress. The snow had fallen so fast it looked like it had been snowing for hours, trudging through half a foot of it was slowing their speed even more.
Just as an old abandoned church yard came into sight, the last of Dean’s strength gave out, his legs completely buckled and Sam lost his tenuous grip on his brother and they fell to the ground, Sam doing his best to take them down as smoothly as possible.
Sam went into autopilot, trying to control Dean’s bleeding, and assessing what he needed to do. He glanced back the way they had come, the bloody path they’d made.
Sam tried to convince himself that the blood looked worse because of the snow, that there wasn’t actually that much of it, but it did little to ease the panic threatening to consume him. He didn’t know what to do, Dean was gazing off into the distance, and he couldn’t tell if the shaking was from the shock or the cold or both. He needed to deal with Dean’s injuries, he needed to keep him warm, he needed to get help, he needed to have been faster with the yeti, he needed to be bitching at Dean for shoving a snowball down his back, and he needed for this not to be happening.
Dean was fading, he could feel his blood draining out onto his hands and there was nothing he could do about it.
Think Sam think! He had to make Dean stay awake.
“Come on Dean! Stay with me!”
“Huh?”
“Damn it Dean you have to stay awake! Just keep talking to me!”
“What the hell are you talking about Sam? I don’t have to do anything.”
Typical Dean to remember his attitude problem when he was practically dancing with the reaper, his brother was such a stubborn ass.
“Just stay with me, ok? Promise me!”
“Fine! I promise.”
Satisfied that Dean wouldn’t pass out on him just yet, he returned doing his best to staunch the blood flow in the nearly pitch black night, he was briefly grateful for the fact that the snow seemed to provide some illumination.
“Damn it Dean you lost a lot of blood.”
He tried to concentrate on examining Dean as much as he could, he was so fixated on trying not to think about the hopelessness of their situation that he barely noticed Dean trying to talk to him.
“Sam?”
“It’s ok Dean, don’t worry, everything’ll be fine!”
“Ssssammy?”
“Yeah Dean.”
“Why am I on the ground?...Should I be cold?”
Sam stopped, his eyes shot up to his brother’s face. Dean’s eyes were barely focused; he was lying on the freezing wet ground as snow kept piling up around him. He’d been so busy focusing on the bleeding, that he’d barely considered the effects of Dean’s weakened body being exposed to such cruel elements. He tugged off his jacket, he immediately missed its warmth, but he’d survive with a cold, Dean could die. He watched as Dean attempted to push himself up onto his elbows and sink back down almost immediately.
“No dude, it’s ok...... I’m not cold, just uh... wondered if I should be. But I’m not so it’s ok.”
Dean’s words chilled Sam to the bone, there were numerous reasons why Dean wasn’t feeling the cold, it didn’t necessarily mean hypothermia, but whatever it was it wasn’t good. He paused with his jacket in his hands, he wanted to cover Dean with it, but he needed access to Dean’s injuries. The panic threatened to swallow him up.
“Dean, I don’t...”
“What’s wrong Sammy?”
“Y...you’ve lost a lot of blood and the um... I can’t leave you to get help...’cause if I leave you then you’ll...”
“I’ll what? You worry too much Sam, why don’t...” Sam watched as Dean’s focus slipped “I like the snow Sam. It makes everything quiet and...white...”
Xxx
“DEAN!” The sharp palm against his cheek stung even more from the cold, bringing him back to awareness. Despite the smarting sensation on his cheek it was an effort to wrench his eyes open.
Sam’s face was a mixture of panic, despair and annoyance. He also seemed to be down to one layer of clothing, weird. Especially with the snow, Dean did like the snow. A sudden memory flashed into his mind of one winter when he was 22, the combination of alcohol, a hot chick, and the childish thrill of snow found them both running through the streets in their underwear. His Dad had ripped him a new one but the simple stupid joy kept him grinning for days. Maybe that had something to do with why Sam was taking off his clothes, he glanced around but could see no sign of a girl in a bikini and boots. And Sam didn’t seem to be drunk, Sam wouldn’t drink when they were... what were they doing again?
The deep gashes in his arm reminded him. Yeti, they were hunting a yeti. The thought caused him to giggle, which in turn elicited another worried look from Sam. He thought that maybe he should be worried too, Sam looked worried, and it was definitely the kind of thing that would normally send him into panic mode, but for some reason he just felt kind of out of place. Separate from the world. It was probably a bad thing, but right now it was just tranquil. He could see Sam’s breath making smoky tendrils in the air, his breath wasn’t making such cool patterns; it was stuttery and didn’t look good.
His body seemed like it was trying to tell his brain something, it was there in the back of his mind, jumping up and down, waving its arms and screaming at him to pay attention, to stop dicking around and focus on the major problem at hand. But it was hard to hear that little voice over the much louder one telling him to sleep, that it would be such a good idea to go to sleep in the snow, like a fluffy cloud. He liked that idea, just like taking a nap on a cloud.
Another vicious slap caused him to gasp and open his eyes.
“DEAN IF YOU DO NOT STAY AWAKE YOU WILL DIE! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!” Damn Sammy was loud, he could do with a nap of his own. Not here though, because if Sam took a nap here then he would freeze, it was a bad idea for his little brother to fall asleep in the snow, he decided to voice this fact.
“Iza baaaaad... ‘dea you... sle’p...snoooow s’mmy.” That didn’t sound quite as eloquent as he intended and now Sam looked even more worried, and he was moving fast, scurrying behind Dean and hauling him up to lean against his warm solid chest.
Dean gave a cry of pain at the sudden movement, a dull fire seemed to rip across his abdomen and shock him back to his senses. The little voice in the back of his mind had rugby tackled the deceptive soothing voice and was now screaming bloody murder, telling him in no uncertain terms that this was bad, this was very very bad and you moron you’re going to die out here and there’s nothing you can do about it because all that blood you lost has made you weak as a kitten and that little siesta in the freezing snow was pretty much signing your own death warrant.
“Sammmmm!” Dean tried to clutch at his brothers fingers, panic surging through him, but his hands wouldn’t cooperate, they were slippery with his own blood and he couldn’t get his body to obey him. His breath was coming in short sharp gasps, the cold making his chest seize up, his lungs objecting to the bitter air.
He felt a hand close around his own shaking one, he couldn’t tell how cold Sam was, he was only grateful for the small amount of comfort.
“G-g-gonna d-d-die Sammy.”
“No Dean you’re not going to die, we’re gonna fix you up, you’ll be ok.”
Sam sounded like he was having a hard time convincing himself never mind his brother.
“Sssshit S-s-am you s-s-suck at lying.”
“Don’t try to talk Dean, save your energy.”
“F-f-f-for what? Hate to b-b-break it to you but I-I-I’m screwed.”
“Don’t you say that, you’ll be ok, I’ll think of something.”
“Y-y-you’ll catch your d-death without your c-c-coat Sammy.” Dean tried to laugh but it caught in the back of his throat and turned into a racking cough, to his dismay spurting blood onto the ground in front of him, he hoped Sam hadn’t noticed, the kid didn’t need anything else to worry about.
“Shit Dean shit!”
Wishful thinking.
“Do you think you can make it into the church, it’ll at least be more sheltered?”
The church wasn’t that far away, about a hundred metres, but to Dean it seemed like a hundred miles, not to mention the damn gate and graveyard they had to manoeuvre their way through. He was pretty sure that there was no way he could make it, but Sam was determined and already trying to stand him up.
Dean wanted to crack some sort of joke to lighten the mood, but he found he couldn’t do much more than clutch desperately at his midsection, and draw one shaky breath after another. Sam was essentially carrying him and despite all his mocking, he was suddenly grateful that his baby brother was more giant than man.
When his legs gave out altogether, Sam didn’t falter, just checked that he was awake, flipped him onto his back and hooked his hands under his arms, the movement sent a jolt of pain through Dean’s injured shoulder and he let out a gasp but Sam just dragged Dean backwards so he could watch his life bleed out all over the middle of nowhere. Sam nudged the small gate open with his butt and kept on going, Dean watched as silent gravestones slid slowly past, the dead, finally forgotten after so many years were the only witnesses to their plight. Stone statues, angels with their heads bowed and solemn headstones send a shiver of foreboding up his spine. He felt like they were being watched. That’ll just be the reaper come to claim your soul Dean, quit being so paranoid.
Tbc