(no subject)
It wasn't a long walk between the Clinic and the cluster of huts Dean had deemed Winchester Acres, but with the wind trying to shove Dean back a step for every one he took, it sure had become one.
For a while just pressing against the wind had been enough of a workout to keep Dean from shivering, but with each new blast bringing colder air, Dean was forced to wrap his arms around himself, wincing each time the wind cut through his scrubs. Any self preserving person would have gone straight to the Winchester, but the small army of people Dean cared about near the large waterfall meant he was out in the cold instead, on the off chance that any of them had decided to wait out the storm in their uninsulated huts. The thought made him shudder even harder than had the cold. None of them were stupid, but what if Angua was waiting for him? What if Sam had gone looking and gotten stuck in this? What if tiny Terpsichore couldn't handle the sudden cold?
Dean ran on. It was hard to tell how far he'd gone already, but when Dean slowed to try to squint through the trees, he found his troubles compounded. "Son of a bitch," he grunted, wiping the snowflakes from his lashes. This was getting serious, and fast.
As he forced his stinging legs back into a run, Dean thought of Rollie, headed in the opposite direction to collect his own family. "Good luck, buddy," he murmured. If the snow was gathering at Rollie's ankles like it was Dean's, he was going to need it.
It was a struggle, but at last Dean rounded a corner and saw something that made him grin wide enough to set his teeth aching in the cold. It was hard to see between the flurries, but there it was, Ellen's hut. He was close now, close enough to start bellowing.
"Anybody home?" he shouted to the wide spread cluster of huts at large. "Hey c'mon, we gotta get out of here!"
For a while just pressing against the wind had been enough of a workout to keep Dean from shivering, but with each new blast bringing colder air, Dean was forced to wrap his arms around himself, wincing each time the wind cut through his scrubs. Any self preserving person would have gone straight to the Winchester, but the small army of people Dean cared about near the large waterfall meant he was out in the cold instead, on the off chance that any of them had decided to wait out the storm in their uninsulated huts. The thought made him shudder even harder than had the cold. None of them were stupid, but what if Angua was waiting for him? What if Sam had gone looking and gotten stuck in this? What if tiny Terpsichore couldn't handle the sudden cold?
Dean ran on. It was hard to tell how far he'd gone already, but when Dean slowed to try to squint through the trees, he found his troubles compounded. "Son of a bitch," he grunted, wiping the snowflakes from his lashes. This was getting serious, and fast.
As he forced his stinging legs back into a run, Dean thought of Rollie, headed in the opposite direction to collect his own family. "Good luck, buddy," he murmured. If the snow was gathering at Rollie's ankles like it was Dean's, he was going to need it.
It was a struggle, but at last Dean rounded a corner and saw something that made him grin wide enough to set his teeth aching in the cold. It was hard to see between the flurries, but there it was, Ellen's hut. He was close now, close enough to start bellowing.
"Anybody home?" he shouted to the wide spread cluster of huts at large. "Hey c'mon, we gotta get out of here!"