Camping-Season 2
Dean stepped carefully over the pile of bones in his path and cast another look around the dank cavern he had been making his way through. It took all of his control not to shout his Sam's name. The windigo they'd been hunting, the one that had taken his brother could still be around.
He'd be no good to Sam dead.
The hunter nearly missed the small opening, barely big enough for him to squeeze through, to the right of the cave's main mouth. In fact he would have missed it if not for the hoarse coughing from within.
"Sam." Dean's whisper was a dizzying mixture or relief, worry, and fear that he was only imagining things. He squirmed through the opening keeping his flare gun steadily in front of him.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the new level of darkness and half as long to rush to the side of the familiar figure his eyes alighted upon.
He took his brother's face in his hands. "Sammy!"
There was a slight groan in return and his little brother's eyes slitted open. "De-?"
"Damn straight." He responded, allowing himself a brief flash of a smile before turning his attention to the ropes that strung Sam up by his wrists. "I'm gonna cut you down. Just lean on me, okay?"
"'kay."
Dean hesitated a moment before balancing the flare gun on a nearby ledge and retrieving his bowtie in its stead. He felt his brother's head fall onto his shoulder as he hacked at the ropes above Sam at the same moment as he heard the unwelcome sound of the Windigo's arrival in the mouth of the cave.
"Sonofabitch." He ground out and attacked the ropes more viciously than before almost stumbling as the full weight of his little brother suddenly fell against him. Sam gave a cry of pain and Dean hushed him before setting him on the floor and retrieving the flare. "Don't move." He ordered already moving back toward the small opening he had nearly missed earlier. Dean leveled the gun at the opening in wait. When the thing tried to get through it wouldn't know what hit it.
Or so he thought.
Dean barely had time to register that the windigo was above him before there was a blinding flash of pain across his side and he found himself sprawled across the opposite wall. He thought he could hear Sam yelling…The flare was gone. That much he knew with startling clarity as he flexed his fingers and found them empty of the gun.
He rolled himself onto his back and flinched back from the hideous form above him. The windigo drew its claws back preparing to send another slice in his direction.
"HEY!"
The creature and Dean both turned their attentions toward the sound. Sam swayed slightly from his place halfway across the cavern but his face was twisted in determination as he clutched Dean's flare gun in his still bound together hands.
"Down, Dean!"
Dean took the hint and rolled onto his stomach…Oh God that hurt!…and covered his head with his arms. He heard the release of the flare and the shriek of the windigo before everything got a little fuzzy and he scarcely felt his brother turning him back onto his back and checking the wounds on his side. He heard faint curses that would make John Winchester take his grown son over his knee…If John Winchester were still alive that was… Dean let his eyes slip closed/
When he opened them again, the bonds from around Sam's hands lay near Dean's head. When had he cut them? Time seemed to slip away quickly and he thought Sam might've been yelling at him again before everything went dark.
When he woke later it was to find himself wrapped securely in a sleeping bag within the light of a camping lantern. The pain in his side had faded into a dull throb and Dean recognized the fuzziness of painkillers at his consciousness.
"S'm?" It came out as more of a harsh cough so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Sammy?"
"Dean!" His little brother was at his side so quickly it made the older hunter dizzy. "You with me?"
"Mmhmm…" he licked his lips "Where are we?"
Sam offered him a sheepish look and uncapped a water bottle before lifting it to Dean's mouth and tipping it just enough to let his older brother drink without spilling water all down his shirt. "Still in the lair….I—I couldn't get you out on my own and you were in no condition to walk…" He shrugged and ducked his head but Dean could see the traces of fear receding from his brother's eyes. He's been afraid he'd lose Dean. And so soon after Dad…
Dean shoved the thought back into his subconscious and gave his brother and easy grin. "Couldn't carry me, huh? Gonna have to work on your upper body strength, Sammy."
Sam huffed a laugh and recapped the water bottle.
Dean cast a glance at his surroundings once more and frowned at the sleeping bag and lantern. Not to mention the water and what was he propped up on? "Where'd you get the gear?"
Sam looked pained before his gaze turned toward the ceiling still lined with bloody ropes. Oh.
Dean cleared his throat and tried to sit up more ignoring the red-hot protest from his side. "We should hike out…"
"Can't. It's too dark. We're gonna have to spend the night." Sam gave him a teasing smile. "Think you can handle it this time?"
"C'mon Sam, you know I hate camping…" the hunter's voice dropped to a mumble "Fucking skunk deserved more than a bullet for what it did…"
His little brother's laughter resounded through the cave as Dean Winchester's eyes drooped and he surrendered to sleep once more.