Untitled Fic for prompt request
Untitled, Wee!Chesters fic
He was running, stumbling.
Dean and Dad were nowhere he could see and he couldn’t scream for them. That thing might hear him.
He moved as fast as he dared, pants ripping with the stinging swipe of bushes and branches. Something hit his face, leaving a stinging cut across his cheek; his face.
Remember to be aware of where you’re stepping; step light.
He’d have to remember to ask dad how to step light when you were running. ‘Cause he was trying, and he wasn’t breaking twigs under his feet; that was good, but he was still making some noise as he moved through the woods. He controlled his breathing, tapped his panic down.
Don’t let your panic control you.
If those were tears running down his cheeks, he would swear they were from getting hit in the face with a branch, not because he was panicking, or because he was scared or anything stupid like that.
The last thing Dean would be was scared.
And Dad wouldn’t be scared either.
He broke through to a clear patch of land, grass and weeds swaying in the light breeze. Wind direction, north, his scent would carry. He adjusted his path so that thing couldn’t smell him.
He slowed down to a cautious walk and considered the best way to alert Dad and Dean to his trouble. His senses zeroed in on a new sound in the area, a snuffling sound mixed with loud footfalls, crisp grass breaking with the force of the steps.
The creature!
No, no, no, no!
Sam dropped, wiggling his way into as small of a position as he could, trying to hear where the creature moved. He ignored the stings of sharp thorns as some plant tried to capture his arm, ripping his arm free as quietly as he dared, heart thumping.
Silence.
That was so not good. He heard rather than saw the creature jump and land almost on top of him. It was like a windstorm, or maybe a wind tunnel, as the thing had to have jumped or something to cause the air to whoosh like that. Then small human-looking feet coalesced into huge hulking hair and dirt encrusted . . . okay, those were nasty and dirty, and oh . . . and they smelled too.
Focus.
Yeah, right. Wasn’t so freaking easy to focus when there was a freaking . . . he took a deep breath. He had to move! Sam swallowed, scrabbling backwards awkwardly to get away from the thing. He wasn’t fast enough.
He screamed.
Might as well . . . wasn’t like he was hiding from the creature now. And he’d love to see Dad and Dean coming to the . . . OW!
Sam clenched his jaw, struggling to stay conscious as the thing shook him like a dog with its favorite toy. The creature walked upright and slung him over one shoulder, and Sam struggled between nausea and trying to take a deep breath to get his bearings.
One large hand, or maybe it was a paw? Whatever. The thing lay on his back heavily, and even though Sam tried to push up, that thing’s strength, along with the claws digging into his back, convinced him to stay still and wait.
He didn’t have to wait long, as the creature mis-stepped, loosening its grip on Sam’s back just enough . . . he used the distraction to his advantage, twisting out of the slack grip and falling to the ground.
He ignored the pain - his body was one mass of throbbing hurts by now - and pushed off the second he hit the ground, running as quickly as he could.
Since the creature was so close, he didn’t have to worry about hiding, so he screamed his head off while he continued to flee. At least if Dad and Dean heard they’d know which direction to look for him.
He whimpered as he ran through a patch of thorny bushes, sharp pains digging into his torso, his side. He stumbled and struggled to find purchase as his tired legs tried to drop out from underneath him. Still, he pushed on.
Then he was screaming despite himself, as the ground suddenly dropped out from underneath him. His head cracked against something hard and for one heart-stopping moment, he was suspended just inside a hole of some kind. Then he fell again. This time the hard impact brought agonizing pain to his right leg and then darkness, as his body succumbed to unconsciousness.
****************************************************
Gosh ... poor Sammy ... we'll see a bit of John and Dean next time up. SOOOOOOOOO - I'd love to know what you thought! Give a writer some lovin' and let me know!
He was running, stumbling.
Dean and Dad were nowhere he could see and he couldn’t scream for them. That thing might hear him.
He moved as fast as he dared, pants ripping with the stinging swipe of bushes and branches. Something hit his face, leaving a stinging cut across his cheek; his face.
Remember to be aware of where you’re stepping; step light.
He’d have to remember to ask dad how to step light when you were running. ‘Cause he was trying, and he wasn’t breaking twigs under his feet; that was good, but he was still making some noise as he moved through the woods. He controlled his breathing, tapped his panic down.
Don’t let your panic control you.
If those were tears running down his cheeks, he would swear they were from getting hit in the face with a branch, not because he was panicking, or because he was scared or anything stupid like that.
The last thing Dean would be was scared.
And Dad wouldn’t be scared either.
He broke through to a clear patch of land, grass and weeds swaying in the light breeze. Wind direction, north, his scent would carry. He adjusted his path so that thing couldn’t smell him.
He slowed down to a cautious walk and considered the best way to alert Dad and Dean to his trouble. His senses zeroed in on a new sound in the area, a snuffling sound mixed with loud footfalls, crisp grass breaking with the force of the steps.
The creature!
No, no, no, no!
Sam dropped, wiggling his way into as small of a position as he could, trying to hear where the creature moved. He ignored the stings of sharp thorns as some plant tried to capture his arm, ripping his arm free as quietly as he dared, heart thumping.
Silence.
That was so not good. He heard rather than saw the creature jump and land almost on top of him. It was like a windstorm, or maybe a wind tunnel, as the thing had to have jumped or something to cause the air to whoosh like that. Then small human-looking feet coalesced into huge hulking hair and dirt encrusted . . . okay, those were nasty and dirty, and oh . . . and they smelled too.
Focus.
Yeah, right. Wasn’t so freaking easy to focus when there was a freaking . . . he took a deep breath. He had to move! Sam swallowed, scrabbling backwards awkwardly to get away from the thing. He wasn’t fast enough.
He screamed.
Might as well . . . wasn’t like he was hiding from the creature now. And he’d love to see Dad and Dean coming to the . . . OW!
Sam clenched his jaw, struggling to stay conscious as the thing shook him like a dog with its favorite toy. The creature walked upright and slung him over one shoulder, and Sam struggled between nausea and trying to take a deep breath to get his bearings.
One large hand, or maybe it was a paw? Whatever. The thing lay on his back heavily, and even though Sam tried to push up, that thing’s strength, along with the claws digging into his back, convinced him to stay still and wait.
He didn’t have to wait long, as the creature mis-stepped, loosening its grip on Sam’s back just enough . . . he used the distraction to his advantage, twisting out of the slack grip and falling to the ground.
He ignored the pain - his body was one mass of throbbing hurts by now - and pushed off the second he hit the ground, running as quickly as he could.
Since the creature was so close, he didn’t have to worry about hiding, so he screamed his head off while he continued to flee. At least if Dad and Dean heard they’d know which direction to look for him.
He whimpered as he ran through a patch of thorny bushes, sharp pains digging into his torso, his side. He stumbled and struggled to find purchase as his tired legs tried to drop out from underneath him. Still, he pushed on.
Then he was screaming despite himself, as the ground suddenly dropped out from underneath him. His head cracked against something hard and for one heart-stopping moment, he was suspended just inside a hole of some kind. Then he fell again. This time the hard impact brought agonizing pain to his right leg and then darkness, as his body succumbed to unconsciousness.
****************************************************
Gosh ... poor Sammy ... we'll see a bit of John and Dean next time up. SOOOOOOOOO - I'd love to know what you thought! Give a writer some lovin' and let me know!