Homeward Bound

By Magicsunbeam

Genre: Angst/drama and a hint of humour?

Rated: T for odd, mild swear words

Summary: Most likely would NEVER happen, but I wanted to write it anyway. The Winchester's go-a-hunting… on horseback. Dean meets his match in trail horse. I'm really rubbish at long drawn out descriptive scene, so hope it's not too bad.

As usual, sorry for the lack on Beta.

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Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine. It and everything in it belongs to lucky old WB.

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Of all the harebrained situations they'd ever been in. Of all the dumb idea's they'd ever come up with. To put Dean Winchester on a horse and sending him out onto the trails of Copper Ridge, Wyoming, Sam thought, had to be the dumbest idea since `the deal`.

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The Winchester boys had readily accepted the job Bobby had asked them to do as a personal favour. An old friend needed help with some attacks that had happened at his business and the attacks were now threatening his livelihood. Bobby was family and so that was enough for Sam and Dean. No questions need be asked.

However, this time, Dean regretted not asking questions.

They had met up with Bobby and Curtis Allen in the office at High Ridge trekking stables and gone over the details. Two people had died, three others injured and lucky to get away with their lives. One witness saying the attacks had been so fast, no one had actually SEEN the creature - only the blood mess that remained of the bodies. Given the description the boys were fairly certain they'd be looking for a Wendigo. The attacks had happened at a remote campsite high up on Copper Ridge.

Dean's mistake was in not catching the word `remote`.

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"So, where is this campsite?"

Curtis Allen smiled, relieved that help was at hand. He led the boys out into the stable yard and jutted his chin upward.

"Up there on Copper Ridge itself."

Dean and Sam turned and looked up at the mountain. Halfway up, framed by a startling blue sky, an outcrop of rock stood out. The limestone face, infused with a deep orange in colour that obviously gave the ridge its name, glowed in the afternoon sun. It was surrounded by trees dressed in the golds, reds and browns of late fall.

"Nice." Sam breathed.

"Yeah." Dean nodded, not quite so impressed. "So where's the road?"

"There are no roads. Sorry."

Dean turned and looked at Curtis, noticing out the corner of his eye that Bobby had taken a small step back.

"What? No roads? So how do we get up there, and PLEASE don't tell me we're walking."

"No, no need to walk." Curtis assured him. "There are two ways. Horseback…."

Dean exploded. "No frickin` way! I'm not John Wayne and I'm NOT getting on a horse."

Sam grinned. "Come on Dean, it'll be fun."

Dean glared at his brother and his ill hidden amusement.

"What's the other way?"

Curtis pointed over Dean's shoulder at a small helicopter sitting in the field next door.

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Almost 24 hours later, Sam cautiously pushed his horse along the narrow path, well aware of the river to his right. On the way up to the ridge, it had been barely more than a creek, winding and twisting its way between steep banks. However, heavy rain had fallen in the small hours and the creek was now a swollen torrent of murky, raging water. Over the top of the noise, Sam heard his brother's voice.

"Ow! Godammit! Sam, the little bitch BIT me!"

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed heavily.

The hunt for the Wendigo had gone off without a hitch; not quite, but almost a first for the Winchester brothers. They had found the creatures lair quickly, hunted it down and sent it to hell - and all without so much as a scratch between them. The only downside had been the storm that arrived in the middle of the hunt and the fact that Dean and his charge - a handsome skewbald - did NOT to get on at all.

At first it had been kind of funny to see the clash of personalities between the two; the almost constant struggle for control. Who would have thought Dean Winchester would meet his match in a horse?

But now Sam was tired and wet and Dean's whinging was starting to annoy him.

"Maybe you should try treating him with some respect, then?" He yelled back. "Horses are intelligent animals, Dean. And his name is Sunny, not Little Bitch."

"Must be named after for his disposition. Sunny my ass." Dean groused.

"And since when did you become an authority on horses, Roy frickin` Rodgers?"

Sam turned in his saddle intent on telling his brother to shut the hell up, when his mount disappeared from under him and he tumbled head long into the roaring river.

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Dean had also been keeping a wary eye on the narrow path when his horse suddenly spooked; shooting back a couple of steps.

"Whoa, whoa!" he cried in surprise, as he grabbed a couple of fists full of mane and hung on as Sunny danced nervously beneath him.

He cast a panicked look in his brother's direction just in time to see him hit the water and go under.

Dean barely had time to think before he saw Sam resurface a couple of seconds later; first gasping in shock, then reaching out in desperation at anything that might prevent the river from carrying him away. However, the current was too fast and there was no time for his fingers touch anything, much less take hold of. Dean watched in horror as his brother was swept away.

"Sam? SAM!" He yelled.

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For a moment Dean froze. Then, as if coming to the same decision at the same time, Sunny began to take off a spilt second before Dean kicked his heels into the horse's belly.

Still aware of the narrow, but now widening path, Dean concentrated on keeping an eye on his brother and staying in the saddle, trusting the horse to know where to put his own feet.

Much to his frustration, Dean began to realise that the river was pulling Sam away to the far side and that for the moment there was nothing he could do to reach him. With a growl, he urged Sunny to move faster, trying to at least get in front.

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Dean and Sunny threaded nimbly through the trees with a style akin to barrel racers. Both concentrating, both ignoring the branches that whipped at their faces. Suddenly the path opened out flat, Dean felt Sunny go up a gear as they thundered along the trail and before long he found himself looking over his shoulder in order to keep Sam in his sights. Now the problem was how the hell was he going to get close enough to reach in and haul him out of there?

Then Dean saw something that gave him a glimmer of hope. A bridge spanning the width of the river came into view. All he had to do was reach it before Sam did.

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Sam, for his part, was freezing. It may have still been warm on dry land, but here in his watery hell, the temperature was nothing short of frigid. The only good part about it was at least now he was too cold to really feel the sharp glances from the rocks as his body was dragged over them. He could see Dean and his horse pounding in unison along the river bank, which, even in his dire situation, Sam found somewhat amusing. It was only seconds ago that the pair were at war with each other. Now they looked a well oiled rodeo team.

Sam realised the cold was beginning to have a serious affect on his thinking when he became aware of a bridge a few yards in front of him, and hanging from that bridge, yelling at him to reach up, was Dean. He tried, he really did try, but no matter how hard his brain screamed at his arms to follow the order his body was just too cold fully oblige.

Sam felt his fingers brush Dean's, he was aware of Dean roaring his name, he was aware of the boulder looming, he was aware of pain blossoming across his forehead and stars appearing in his rapidly diminishing vision.

He was aware that he was deep shit.

And then he was aware of nothing.

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"SAM!"

Dean yelled in frustration and anger as his brother slipped past him. He was about to jump back up onto Sunny with the intentions of finding another vantage point when he saw Sam hit the boulder. He couldn't hear the crack his brother's skull had to have made as it connected with the granite, but his nerves twinged in sympathy. Panic followed when he saw Sam stop struggling and then go slack.

"No! Godammit, no!" he yelled as stripped out of his jacket and dove into the raging torrent.

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Dean gasped in shock as soon as he came up for air, but immediately scanned the water until his eyes locked onto his brother's inert form. Striking out against the current, he began to fight his way to Sam. He grunted in pain as his arms and legs struck against submerged rocks, but his desperation to reach his brother outweighed any other thought.

After what felt like hours to Dean, he finally reached Sam. He almost cheered with relief as his fingers snagged Sam's jacket and he pulled his brother to him, trying to keep their heads clear of the water. As he did so, Dean noticed a tree branch that spanned much of the river and saw an opportunity. As the water rushed them towards it, he reached out and hooked his arm around the branch, holding on as tightly as he could. His face twisted with pain and he bit back a yelp as the bark embedded itself into his arm, tearing at soft flesh.

Up until then, Dean had been alarmed by how lax Sam was, but relief soon followed fear when he heard a low moan in his ear.

"Hang on, Sammy," he gasped. "I've got you."

As cold and exhaustion began to steal their way into Dean's bones, he knew time was running out. He had to get himself and Sam out of the water soon or…

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Urgently scanning the surrounding area, Dean was at a loss. They were almost dead centre in the river so the water was too deep to try and stand up in and even if it was shallow enough, Dean knew the current wouldn't allow it. There was nothing for Dean to get hold of that would help drag himself and Sam to the side. The branch he was clinging too was already began to shift under his and Sam's combined weight. The only option left was to let go and hope they had better luck soon.

Dean glanced down river, looking for some small miracle. Fifty yards away, his eyes came to rest on Sunny. The horse was standing in the shallows, water up to his belly, staring hard at Dean.

`What the hell…?`

Sunny took another couple of steps into the water, stretched his neck out and lowered his chin to the surface. He then looked back up at Dean and whinnied.

Despite the cold effecting his thinking process, Dean understood.

"I'll be d-damned, Sammy. Little Bitch thinks he's f-frickin` Lassie." he shuddered, teeth chattering against the cold.

Sam remained silent.

Down river, Sunny took another step into the water and whinnied again as Dean felt the branch move.

Out of options, Dean muttered. "I can't b-believe I'm putting my t-trust in a horse that doesn't even like me."

A moment later, he let go of the branch.

The force of the water immediately pulled both boys under… only for a couple of seconds, but when Dean came up gasping for air, he was shocked to discover a precious ten of those fifty yards were gone. Now with less time to make the grab for Sunny, Dean knew that if he missed, he and Sam were surely going to meet a watery end.

`So don't frickin` miss.` He told himself.

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Dean felt each of the knocks and blows he received from colliding with concealed rocks and debris, but he tried to relax as the water carried him and Sam closer and closer to their would-be equine saviour.

Dean saw Sunny move further into the water, the swell now up to horses chest.

`Okay, the horse is doing his part, Dean. The rest is up to you.`

With ever last ounce of strength he had, Dean fought against the current, trying to put himself and Sam into the horses path. His pushed out his free arm, fingers splayed in readiness and aimed for Sunny's bridle.

A second later he felt contact and grabbed wildly. His felt his fingers snag the offered bridle and he held on for life.

Above his head, Sunny grunted with effort as the weight of two men, plus the pull of the river almost pulled him down. He staggered a couple of steps before he managed to dig his hooves into the gravel bed and gain a hold.

Dean felt everything halt. For the longest moment he and Sam seemed to hang in mid-air, before he got the sensation of slowly being dragged, inch by inch, clear of the river.

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As soon as he felt the water was shallow enough, Dean let Sunny's bridle go. Chest heaving, he staggered unsteadily to his feet and pulled Sam up onto the bank. He dropped to brother's side and immediately felt for a pulse and was alarmed to find he couldn't feel one. He then realised his fingers were so cold, he would probably not feel it if they were on fire. Instead, he tapped at Sam's face and after a delay was rewarded with a low moan.

"Sam? Come on dude, open your eyes." he demanded, noticing for the first time a cut above Sam's eye.

The iciness of the water had all but stopped the bleeding, but judging by the discoloration already showing, Sam was going to have one hell of a shiner.

"Sam, you in there?"

Hazel orbs slowly revealed themselves as Sam struggled to respond to his brother. When his vision did focus, Sam gave slow smile.

"What you grinning at, Fish Boy?" Dean asked with a relieved smile of his own.

Sam swallowed. "Saw you...dude." He slurred. "You…so are…John…John Wayne."

Dean couldn't stop the grin. "Hell, yeah."

When Sam's eyes closed of their own accord and Dean knew he needed to keep moving. He needed to get Sam back to the stable yard and safety, but he needed to rest for a moment, to get his breath back, so he dropped down next to Sam and with a shuddering sigh, closed his eyes for a minute.

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He was aware of something moving beside him. Aware if warm breath on his neck. Aware of something soft, warm and slightly damp gently nudging at his face.

As Dean's senses gradually came back online, he realised Sunny was nuzzling at him, the nudging turning to shoving when the horse realised he was awake.

"Okay, I'm up, I'm up." Dean grouched, pulling himself up into a sitting position.

"Shit." he mumbled, as immediately, the world tilted on it's axle.

For a long moment Dean thought he was going to throw up. Closing his eyes again as he waited for the motion to stop. When he was sure the contents of his stomach were safe, Dean opened his eyes to find Sunny standing directly in front of him, his head lowered and in Dean's face.

Dean reached out, laying a shaking hand on the horse's nose and smiled tiredly.

"Come on, Lassie…let's go home."

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End

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Or maybe not. I have a feeling there may be a small epilogue here. Maybe.