Here we go with another whumpy Christmas story as requested by 29Pieces: TFW2.0 plans to spend Christmas together but of course nothing can ever really go well for our boys and someone is in peril. Hope you enjoy this, my friend ^_^
I'll Be Home For Christmas
A Supernatural Fanfic
Dean heaved a sigh of relief as he hauled himself out of the Impala and opened the back door to start grabbing bags of groceries. His face still stung and the deep cut on his upper arm ached dully under his thick jacket. Straightening up with a silent groan, he glanced across the car at Cas who didn't look much better. Dean really hated playing this guessing game with Michael's new monsters on what would take them down or not. Luckily, as with most things, good old fashioned beheading and burning seemed to stop anything. It was just getting close enough to be able to do that that was the problem.
"Boy am I glad to be home," Dean said sincerely as he gathered half the groceries and Cas collected the rest. He'd been surprised they hadn't had the police called on them at the grocery store with all the bruises and scabbing over cuts on their faces, but Dean had decided to stop for supplies all the same, knowing that once they got back to the bunker he wasn't going to want to leave again and they had needed to stock up. He'd promised Jack that he would teach him how to make gingerbread cookies and pie after all.
The next day was Christmas Eve—scratch that, today was Christmas Eve, Dean realized as he glanced at his watch, seeing it was after midnight. Dean had made the executive decision last week that they were going to celebrate Christmas right that year. Last year Mom and Jack had been stuck in apocalypse world and it was only right that the kid got to have the full Christmas experience at least once. Plus, with Jack on the mend and Dean un-possessed, it seemed like as good a time as any to take a breather. He was surprised that Sam and Cas had agreed whole-heartedly. All the other hunters had made arrangements and plans for their holiday celebration, and Mom and Bobby were still off in some cabin together, so they would have the whole bunker to themselves—finally—and be able to eat cookies and watch Christmas movies to their hearts content.
As Dean's back twinged—thanks to the werewolf that had thrown him down a flight of stairs—just from carrying the groceries inside, he was even more glad they had decided to take this time off. He'd really like a hot shower and a drink.
Cas grunted too as he hefted his load onto the kitchen counter. Dean glanced at him worriedly. The angel had taken a few heavy hits himself, his shoulder dislocated. Dean had popped it back in, but Cas didn't seem to be healing as quickly as he used to and it still seemed to be hurting him pretty badly.
"Hey, you good?" Dean asked.
Cas sighed and turned his swollen face to Dean. "I'll live. I am looking forward to a few days of rest, however."
"You and me both, brother," Dean agreed whole-heartedly and looked up from putting the groceries away as footsteps sounded in the hallway outside.
Jack entered the kitchen, his eyes widening with worry as he saw their bruised faces. "Dean? Cas? Are you okay?"
Dean gave him what was probably a lopsided grin thanks to a swollen lip. "Just a few bumps and bruises, kid, nothing to worry about." He continued to put the groceries away. "You should be in bed anyway. We got a big day of baking tomorrow, remember?" He glanced around the bunker then. "Sam back yet?"
Since most of the hunters had already gone off for their holiday celebrations, Sam, Dean and Cas had split up to take on the last couple hunts that had come onto their radar. Dean had been wary about Sam going off on his own, but none of them had wanted to send Jack out into the field again quite yet, with help or not, and the one case Sam took on in Colorado had seemed like a cut and dried werewolf working alone, so Dean figured his little brother could handle it. After all, he'd handled more while Dean had been possessed.
But Jack's brow furrowed at the mention of Sam, and Dean's heart gave a small lurch. "No. Actually Sam missed his last check-in. I tried calling, but couldn't get through."
Dean tried not to let the worry bite at him, and he swallowed hard. "Well, he's up in the woods, there's probably not a cell tower close enough, so let's not get too worried yet. Give him time to come back down the mountain."
Jack didn't quite look convinced, but he nodded all the same.
Cas glanced over at him with a small smile. "He'll be fine, Jack. Why don't you try to sleep now?"
The kid looked like he wanted to protest, but he finally nodded and headed back to his room.
Once he was gone Dean and Cas looked at each other and Dean was already heading into the library where Sam had set up a permanent computer where he could track all the hunters. Dean pulled up Sam's GPS coordinates and saw he was right where he was supposed to be.
"Well, he's where the hunt led him, but he left yesterday morning, and he should have finished up by now," Dean grumbled as he clicked several more buttons that Sam always made look so effortless, and brought up the complete tracking history of Sam's phone GPS in the last twenty-four hours.
Cas leaned over his chair with a furrowed brow as Dean exhaled sharply. "Son of a bitch."
The tracker hadn't moved for the last five hours, sitting at a spot that looked like a ranger station up in the mountains. Dean rubbed a hand over his face, wincing as he touched the bruises and stood up.
"He could have just lost his phone in the fight," Cas said half-heartedly.
"Yeah, but I'm not gonna take that chance." He got up and strode to the dormitory ward and knocked on Jack's door, opening it to find the kid, not asleep at all but reading at his desk.
"Hey, it looks like Sam might be in a little trouble so we're heading out," Dean told him, his voice tight with worry.
Jack stood instantly. "I'm coming with you."
"Jack…"
"It's almost Christmas," Jack said firmly. "You said it was important for family to be together during the holidays. If you're bringing Sam home then I'm going with you. I definitely don't want to be sitting here all alone worrying."
Dean studied him a second, glancing at Cas and then nodded. "Okay, fine. But bring a warm coat, because it's cold out there."
Sam inhaled sharply as he regained consciousness. He scrabbled around for a second, disoriented, not remembering where he was. It was dark, and he was freezing. He pushed himself into a sitting position, his head and body aching in protest, and he cast around for a light, his phone or a flashlight; anything.
He felt rocks under his hands, and then one landed on nothing but air. Frowning, he reached further, and then realized with sharp burst of fear, that there was nothing there. He drew back with a gasp, and pressed his back against a rocky surface.
As he took deep breaths, his vision began to clear and he could finally start to see his surroundings illuminated in the pale light of the moon. He was perched on a small jut of rock halfway down a mountain. It was barely big enough to contain his long limbs and it must have been a miracle he had even landed on it instead of falling to his death.
He thought he had.
Sam closed his eyes as his memories flashed of his hunt. It had been a werewolf, and thankfully not one of Michael's but unfortunately, it hadn't been one as he had originally thought, but three. He'd been jumped at the cabin about half a mile back, wounded one of them, and then ran to try and get the jump on them. But they had found him again before he could set a trap, and he'd taken one out before he remembered it grabbing him and hauling them both over the side of the cliff they had ended up on.
Sam took a deep breath and cautiously leaned over the side. He could just barely make out the shape of the werewolf's still body lying on the rocks below. Sam started to shake. That could have been him.
As it was, he wasn't exactly in a great position right now himself. His head ached and he wouldn't be surprised if he had a concussion. He'd also apparently gotten pretty banged up in the fall, because his right side hurt every time he breathed, and without exploring further, he was certain he had at least some bruised ribs, if there weren't a couple cracked ones. His left thigh had three deep cuts on it. Those he knew he had gotten in the fight, but one knee felt messed up too, probably from the fall. Over all, it was still better than the alternative.
He began to feel in his pockets for his phone, but it wasn't anywhere.
"Dammit," he muttered. He must have lost it at some point during the fight, or when he fell. At least he still had his gun, though he wasn't sure what had happened to his machete. His watch, which had glow in the dark hands, told him it was after midnight, obviously why it was so dark. He'd been unconscious for hours—ironically, the most sleep he'd gotten for weeks, he thought darkly. He was way past his check-in though and Jack had to be worried, he'd been so insistent that Sam call. And Cas and Dean were probably back by now. At least they knew where he was, though it would take them a while to get to him and there were still two werewolves out there somewhere.
Sam decided that he couldn't wait. He needed to at least try to get off this cliff; then he could get back to his car and one of his extra cell phones.
He looked up to see how far down he was. It was at least thirty feet, which was not comforting, but the cliff face was pretty rocky, and looked like it had a lot of handholds. Probably a breeze for even a novice rock climber. Sam wasn't even that, but he would give it a shot. Anything would beat freezing out here alone with no phone and more werewolves possibly out there waiting for more hunters to come along.
So, wincing as he stood up, Sam stomped feeling back into his cold feet, wishing he had worn warmer clothes, and reached up to start his climb.
Dean was tense as he drove far past the speed limit on the deserted state road. He was grateful Sam was only in Colorado, but it was still too far for his liking when his little brother was possibly in danger—scratch that, was most definitely in danger.
Jack and Cas had both been trying to call Sam's phone the entire drive, but there was nothing, and not the disconnected thing you got when there was no signal, the phone was going to voicemail, which meant that Sam wasn't picking it up.
Probably because he couldn't.
Dean was trying to keep the worst-case scenarios out of his mind, but it was really hard, especially when the car became silent all too quickly once they realized they weren't going to be able to reach Sam. Dean cursed inwardly. They were supposed to all be home, safe and celebrating, dammit! Watching Christmas movies and stuffing their faces with cookies and popcorn and trying to keep Jack from drinking too much of Sam's overly spiked eggnog. They were not supposed to be driving across state lines in the middle of the night while Sam was lost in the woods, possibly hurt or worse.
Dean tried to shut out the images from the apocalypse world when Sam had gotten attacked by those vampires. No, that wouldn't happen again. Not on his watch.
The Impala's headlights were the only light they had as they pulled into the trailhead in the mountains, around where Sam had been hunting.
"Dean," Cas said softly and pointed out the window. "Sam's car is still here."
Dean saw it as he parked a few feet away and he left his own headlights on as the three of them got out and gathered around the other vehicle. Dean felt his anxiety tighten again. He had hoped that maybe, if Sam had been injured, he might have made his way back to his car before he passed out, but he wasn't there.
Dean opened the car and rummaged around, finding a trail map with Sam's marks on it.
"Jack, call Sam's phone again, see if he left it in the car."
Jack did as he was told, but there was no ring. Dean hadn't expected there to be.
"Okay." Dean pulled out of the car and closed the door, heading back to the Impala where he set the trail map on the hood and Cas and Jack crowded around him. "I think we need to head up to this ranger station. It's only a couple of miles up and that's where I got the hit on Sam's phone."
"Sounds like a good place to start," Cas said. "And if we don't find Sam there, there might at least be some clues to where he is now."
Dean swallowed hard, not wanting to think about the kinds of clues they might find. He folded the map, tucking it into his jacket. "Okay, let's gear up."
They all wore heavy coats—there was snow on the ground up here and the cold had settled into a deep chill so they added gloves and hats as well. Dean normally wouldn't have cared, but he wanted Jack to wear them so he figured he should probably set a good example. Plus, frostbite wasn't going to help Sam. Cas was obviously fine in his normal clothes, but he still put on a heavier jacket at Dean's urging, and he took the weapons duffle after Dean had strapped a machete to his belt.
Jack watched Dean as he loaded other supplies into a backpack and his face twisted slightly as he saw the first aid kit.
"You think Sam is hurt bad?" he asked, sounding so young and scared Dean suddenly wanted to kick himself for bringing him out here. Wanted to kick himself for letting Sammy go off alone and causing this kid grief he didn't deserve, especially after everything else that had happened.
He tried to force optimism into his voice after catching Cas' eye over Jack's head. "I don't know, Jack. But we'll find him, I promise. And Sam's not really that easy to kill—especially not by a run of the mill werewolf."
Jack didn't reply, but didn't look too convinced. Maybe he was remembering what had happened in the apocalypse world too. Cas stepped forward and handed him a shotgun, gripping his shoulder tightly.
"Let's not waste any more time worrying about it," the angel said firmly and loaded the duffle onto his uninjured shoulder. Dean frowned at his still somewhat stiff movements.
"Cas, you good with that?" he asked.
The angel nodded. "I'm fine. Your arm's no better."
Dean shrugged in acceptance, even that action pulling at the sutures Cas had had to help him with earlier. Yeah, they were an awesome rescue party for sure.
He handed the other backpack to Jack and then grabbed three flashlights. "Okay, let's go."
They were silent as they walked up to the cabin, saving their breath, and also listening for anything—or anyone.
Thankfully the cabin wasn't that far and they made it there quickly. Dean approached the door first and his stomach twisted slightly as he saw it was ajar. He held up a hand to Cas and Jack who each raised their weapons. Dean pulled his gun from his jacket, equipped with silver bullets, and positioned it with his flashlight, as he kicked the door in and spun to take in the room.
But there was nothing there.
"Guys," he called, putting his gun away again as he moved his flashlight around. Cas and Jack entered behind him and did the same.
The cabin was a mess. A display of brochures had been knocked over and scattered, and a rack of maps was askew. A table had been overturned. Dean bent to the floor and inspected a small dark puddle. He touched a gloved finger into it and smeared it across the wood. Blood; and several hours old, judging from the viscosity.
"There was definitely a struggle here," Cas said blandly as he searched around.
"Yeah," Dean straightened up. "No bodies though."
Jack had his phone out and punched several buttons. A ringing sounded and Dean glanced over to the pile of brochures where he could see a lighted up phone screen. He hurried over and grabbed it, clicking off the call.
"No Sam either," Jack said simply. "You don't think the werewolf took him somewhere else do you?"
That thought hadn't occurred to Dean actually, but what if the kid was right? What if Sam had been taken? What if….what if the werewolf had taken him to Michael? Dean shoved those thoughts away instantly. If Sam had been taken for ransom someone would have made sure they knew by now. Unless he had been taken for other reasons. Like food.
"Alright well, he's not here, so let's go look somewhere else," Dean said, heading toward the door. "And keep a look out. No bodies mean that the werewolf Sam was hunting could still be out there too."
Cas and Jack followed him, all three of them a little more dejected and a little more anxious.
Dean looked out into the dark forest, his breath forming plumes of cloud in the air. Sammy, where are you?
Sam was about halfway up the rocky cliff before he slipped.
He had been an idiot to not wear gloves, he knew it, and his fingers and even his toes were so cold, he couldn't feel them, and so his grip wasn't very good, and when he got to a place on the cliff where the handholds were a little too small, and his right foot lost purchase, his fingers just wouldn't hold on.
He cried out with primal terror as he felt himself slip, scrambling at the rocks, feeling them tear his hands apart—he didn't notice the pain now but later when they weren't so cold they would be agony. He fought to find a handhold but the drop only took seconds and he was crashing back to the small ledge before he knew it.
Sam must have blacked out again before he came to, gasping freezing air into his lungs before he coughed. That made his ribs flare in agony and, okay, there were definitely a couple fully broken now thanks to that second fall. Sam's body was sprawled awkwardly on the small rocky ledge and he rolled over to try and pull himself more securely onto it.
As he moved his long legs, agony shot up his left one and he cried out again, folding over himself. He carefully dragged himself so that his back was against the cliff face again and braced his hands under his knee to gently maneuver his left ankle closer. Every small movement caused pain to lance up his leg and Sam gritted his teeth, lifting the cuff of his jeans and prodding at it with his frozen fingers. There was no way to tell whether his ankle was broken or not, but either way he wasn't going to be walking on it. Which meant he wasn't going to be climbing again.
Sam slumped back against the rocky wall, closing his eyes as he felt any energy he might have had drain out of him completely. He was lost, hurt, freezing, and all he could think about was the bunker, warmly lit and surprisingly cheerful with the Christmas tree Jack had picked out in the corner of the library with the makeshift decorations and several presents under it. He thought of the food Dean had promised to make and his stomach twisted hungrily. He would settle for a cup of coffee right now, anything hot to wrap his freezing hands around. He just wanted to be home, he wanted his family.
A tear slid down his cheek, and he hugged himself to try and conserve some warmth. His only hope now was that they would come for him.
Jack clutched his flashlight firmly in one hand and the shotgun in the other as they made their way through the dark woods, single file, looking for any sign that Sam might have come this way.
Suddenly, Cas, who was bringing up the rear, called to them.
"I found something," he said and Jack and Dean both turned and saw the angel bending over a small pile of snow that had formed on the side of the trail.
Dean leaned close and cursed. "Blood?"
Cas nodded. "It's human," he said grimly. They all knew what that meant.
Jack felt his chest tighten and spun around. "Sam?!" he cried.
Dean's hand fell on his shoulder. "Maybe not so loud yet, Jack. We don't know if the werewolves are still out here."
"At least we know we're going in the right direction," Cas said and they continued in the direction the blood looked like it led, off the path and further into the thick trees.
A rustling came to their right and all three of them stood stock still, flashlights casting around.
"What was that?" Jack whispered. "An animal?"
Dean shook his head slowly. "Too big." He stepped forward, a hand reaching for his gun as he raised his flashlight. "Sam?" he called.
There were no other sounds until a branch cracked and a shape suddenly darted out of the darkness, throwing itself at Cas.
The angel went down with a cry of surprise, his flashlight spinning off through the trees. There was a feral growl and the two figures started struggling for the upper hand.
"Cas!" Jack cried, dropping his own flashlight to use his gun, just as Cas cried out in pain.
Dean barreled toward him, grabbing his arm. "Don't use that, you might hit Cas." He had the machete in his hand and lunged forward. Jack watched in horror as the feral figure rose up, holding Cas by the back of his coat, and swung the angel into the nearest tree. The tree itself cracked and Cas slumped limply to the ground, but he was free of the wolf and Dean took that opportunity to lunge forward, his blade flashing in the moonlight.
As he brought the blade down, though, the wolf dodged at just the last moment so that the blade buried itself into its shoulder instead of its neck. It yelped like a wounded dog and dashed off into the woods, bleeding on the fresh snow.
"Dammit!" Dean shouted.
Jack had crouched beside Cas and was scrambling for a flashlight to see if he was hurt. He found one and reached out, lifting the angel's head and seeing fresh blood decorating his forehead and coating the previous bruises that had been there earlier.
"Cas?!" he cried, terror washing over him.
Dean was at his side instantly, forgetting the werewolf for the moment and gripping Cas' shoulder. Jack was relieved the see the angel already stirring, but then he saw the fresh blood that had pooled in the snow as Cas rolled onto his side.
"Cas, are you hurt?" he asked frantically.
Cas groaned and Jack and Dean helped him into a sitting position. Cas held his head, wincing. "I…I think I'm okay." He straightened and a sharp gasp escaped from his throat.
Dean snatched up his flashlight again and leaned over Cas' shoulder.
"Son of a bitch," he breathed. "Cas, that thing tore you up."
Jack glanced over at Cas' back. His coat was shredded from shoulder to hip, the tattered fabric soaked in blood. Jack felt horror pull at his chest and he tried to yank the backpack off his shoulders, reaching for the first aid kit, but Cas was already trying to get up.
"Cas, we need to patch you up," Dean said.
"Dean, there's no time. I'm fine," the angel said through gritted teeth, though the lines of pain on his face told another story.
"You sure as hell are not," Dean snapped, reaching out to stop Cas from rising.
"Dean!" Cas snapped back, startling Jack. "That thing is still out here, which means we need to find Sam now. I can hold out a little longer."
Dean's mouth pressed into a thin line, obviously weighing the situation.
"Okay, compromise," he finally said. "We tape on some gauze so you don't bleed out completely. No arguments," he added quickly.
Cas huffed. "Fine."
"Jack," Dean said and Jack yanked the backpack off and pulled out the first aid kit. Together he and Dean worked quickly to shove pads of gauze through the rips in Cas' coat, taping them down as well as they could. Even Jack could tell it was a bad patch job, but they didn't really have the time for anything else and it was better than nothing.
"Alright, I guess that will have to do," Dean grunted, obviously not happy about it, but torn between doing a better job and finding Sam before that werewolf did. He stood as Jack slung his backpack back on and then they both helped Cas stand. He swayed slightly and Jack was worried about him hitting his head, but Cas bent stiffly to retrieve his flashlight and started off again, forcing them to go with him.
"It's possible Sam may have been injured and holed up somewhere," Cas said. "That may be why the wolf is still here."
Dean nodded, and Jack liked that idea a lot better than any alternative. "Where do you think he could he be hiding?" he asked.
"That's what we need to find out," Dean said. "Stay close, and keep a look out. I'm starting to think there might be more than one were out here after all."
Jack clutched his shotgun tightly and followed Dean and Cas further into the woods.
Dean kept one eye on the woods and one on Cas as they continued. The angel was good at playing through injuries, but Dean knew he was hurting. He couldn't believe how stupid they were to get jumped like that. It could have gone a lot worse too. Dean shook those thoughts out of his head.
The trees were thinning, and Dean looked around, wondering if they had gone the right way after all. Cas had found another spot of blood, but it had been small and there didn't look like there was anywhere to hide around here. If that was what Sam was doing. If he was still alive.
Dean kicked himself for thinking that. He would know if his brother was dead, he was sure of it. That didn't stop him from worrying about it though.
They came out to a cliff face and Dean glanced around, feeling exposed out here. Cas was looking around, a frown between his brows. He went off to one side and crouched down next to some rocks.
"Dean, there's werewolf blood here," he said.
Dean and Jack hurried over and looked at the spot in Cas' flashlight beam. Not only that, but the ground around here was torn up like there had been a struggle, the snow churned into a dirty slush.
Dean looked around and saw a dull glint of metal nearby. He rushed toward it and pulled a machete from the slush.
"Is that Sam's?" Jack asked.
"Yeah," Dean said, still looking around. Something was nagging at him. Some big brother instinct. He felt that Sam was near.
"Sammy?" he called despite the danger of the wolves hearing, walking further along the drop off and then…
His stomach plummeted. No, that couldn't have been what had happened.
His feet carried him to the cliff edge, ignoring the calls from Cas and Jack and he stood there a moment before he crouched and leaned over the side, glancing at the drop below as he fought off the vertigo of the position.
And about thirty feet down, a figure slumped, shivering, on a small ledge.
"Sam!" Dean shouted, in pure relief.
The body jerked and the head craned back, eyes flashing in the moonlight as tears gathered in their corners.
"Dean," came the relieved reply.
And then two howls sounded out in the woods behind them.
Sam couldn't believe it. He almost thought it was a dream at first, because Dean wasn't really there, he couldn't be. But then Cas and Jack were leaning over the edge as well and flashlights were shining down on him.
"Sam!" Jack cried.
"Sammy are you hurt?" Dean demanded.
Sam shifted slightly and even that made him wince. "Y-yeah. I think my ankle's broken."
Dean cursed under his breath. "Okay, okay, don't worry, we'll get you up. Just, hang tight little brother." He was about to duck away, but Sam called him back.
"Dean…" his voice choked and he swallowed hard. "Thanks."
Dean smiled down at him. "You know I'll always come for you, kiddo."
Another howl sounded out and Sam felt a chill go up his spine. "You have to take those wolves out!"
"How many are there?" Dean asked.
"Two, I killed one, then I fell down here," Sam said.
"Okay," Dean said. "Jack, you get the rope out of the bag, we're gonna need it to get Sam up…Cas…" He hesitated.
"I can fight," Cas said and Sam frowned, wondering what had happened. "You're going to need help." He glanced down at Sam. "Don't worry, Sam, we'll have you up shortly."
Dean disappeared then and Cas followed. Jack stayed rummaging through the bag he had taken from his shoulder.
"I was worried when you missed your check in," Jack said.
"Jack, I'm sorry," Sam said. "I didn't want to put you through that."
The nephillim smiled. "I'm just glad we found you."
Sam's eyes dampened, despite himself, and he smiled. "Me too."
Jack found the rope and pulled it out of the bag, undoing it. "Now let's get you up here so we can go home for Christmas."
Sam laughed. "That sounds like a great idea."
Jack unlooped the rope and looked for something to tie it around. He glanced over his shoulder at Dean and Cas who were standing facing the forest. Jack could hear the wolves coming, and he knew there would be a fight soon. His stomach knotted, hoping Cas would be all right with his injuries. Dean was hurt too from earlier, but he couldn't think of that now. He had to rescue Sam.
He chose one of the rocks at the top of the cliff and lashed the rope around it. He had learned to tie knots from one of the hunters while he had been in the other world and used those skills now to make a secure knot.
That was when he heard a growl and a gunshot and he whipped around to see the wolves rushing out of the woods, straight at Cas and Dean.
"Jack!" Sam called frantically and Jack hurried back over to the cliff, leaning down. "What's going on?"
"They're fighting the wolves. I have the rope ready. Can you climb up?" He threw the rope over the edge and Sam tried to grab it, but his hands didn't look like they could grip, maybe they were too cold.
"Jack, I can't climb up. Not with this ankle. You're gonna have to wait for Dean and Cas to help you pull me up."
But Jack wasn't going to be deterred. He pulled the rope up again and knotted a loop into the end of it so Sam could stick his good foot in it.
"If you can stand, I'll try to get you up," Jack said and positioned a log under the rope to add a little leverage, looking for a secure stone he could brace himself against.
More shots rang out and Jack turned to see one of the wolves stagger, but then lunge at Dean, bearing him to the ground. Dean lost his gun in the fall and he tried to get his machete up but the wolf slammed a fist into the hunter's face and then slashed out with its claws. Dean cried out as they tore into his side.
"Dean!" Jack cried, scrambling for his own gun. Cas was fully engaged with the other wolf and wouldn't be able to help.
"Jack!" Sam called, obviously frustrated with not being able to see what was going on. But Sam was safe from the wolves at least, and Jack rushed forward leveling his gun at the werewolf about to tear Dean's throat out.
He shot, but missed. He caught the wolf's attention though and it looked up, scrambling off of Dean and rushing toward him.
"Jack, don't!" Dean groaned, rolling over to scramble for a weapon.
Jack stepped back, reloading, but the werewolf was on him in a second, leaping over a boulder and slamming him to the ground, right next to the cliff edge. Jack growled as he fought, felt claws dig into his shoulder as the wolf grabbed him and then slammed his head against the ground. Jack's vision exploded and he felt his gun being knocked from his hand. He could hear Sam screaming from below, and Jack wondered if the wolf would toss him over too. He blinked his eyes open to see the saliva-covered jaws flashing in the moonlight.
And then a gunshot rang out. He heard the sound of something whipping by inches from his ear and then a cut off growl before the werewolf's weight collapsed on top of him.
"Jack!" More footsteps rushed forward and he felt the weight lifted from him, revealing Dean and Cas, standing over him, bloody and frantic.
"Jack, are you alright?" Cas asked, bending to cup his face gently, turning it slightly to inspect the bloody wound on the side of his head.
"I-I'm fine," he looked around in confusion. "Who…"
Dean crouched down with a wince, a hand clasped to Jack's shoulder as he leaned over the cliff. Jack looked down too, seeing Sam steadying himself against the rocky cliff face, his gun held in his hand, looking up anxiously.
"Nice shot, Sammy," Dean said.
Jack exhaled and reached out for Cas to help him up.
"Now let's get you the hell out of here," Dean said.
Sam nodded. "Hell yes."
It took all three of them to get Sam up since each of them all only had one good arm. But Sam was eventually hauled over the cliff's edge and then Dean had him in his arms, holding onto him tightly as they both let out a shuddering breath of relief.
"I got you, little brother," Dean murmured, forgetting for the moment that Sam wasn't a kid anymore. "You're safe now."
Sam didn't seem to care though because he only clung to Dean more for a few minutes, obviously rattled and probably freezing. When he finally pulled away his eyes were wet and he happily allowed himself to be embraced by Cas and Jack too.
Dean staggered to his feet, pressing a hand to his bleeding side. That damn werewolf had caught him good under the ribs.
"You're bleeding," Sam said from his position sitting on a rock as Cas inspected his ankle.
"Yeah, but not too bad," Dean insisted.
Sam shot him a bitchface. "At least tape it up so you don't bleed out on the hike back."
Dean groaned at the thought of the hike back down to the car, but Sam had a point. Jack hurriedly dug through the backpack for the first aid kit and Dean taped some gauze over the bloody furrows, hissing as the frigid air hit his tender skin.
Cas stood stiffly from helping Sam and placed a hand on the younger Winchester's shoulder. "The good news is your ankle is only sprained. But you still won't be able to walk on it, and you really shouldn't try."
Sam glanced around and grabbed a thick branch, which he tested for strength. "I'll make do."
The four of them staggered off through the woods then. Sam leaned on Dean with one arm and used his makeshift crutch to help himself along with the other as Cas and Jack led the way.
"Too bad you're too big to carry, Sammy," Dean said, only half joking and grunted as Sam leaned more heavily against him as his crutch sunk into some damp earth.
Sam snorted, stumbling into a steady, if not slow, rhythm again. "Yeah. Too bad."
But they eventually got back to the trailhead and they all breathed a collective sigh as the Impala came into view in the silvery dawn light that was now visible through the trees.
"You got anything important in the other car?" Dean asked him as he opened the passenger door of the Impala.
Sam shook his head and Dean steadied him as he sat. Cas and Jack piled into the back and Dean got into the driver's seat. For a moment, he just sat there, his eyes closed as his body ached, then he started the engine and cracked up the heat. Sam gave a grateful sigh then turned to Dean and glanced back toward Cas and Jack too.
"Guys…" he said, and cleared his throat. "Thanks for finding me. I…I kind of thought I was gonna be out on that mountain for a long time."
"Sam, you know we never would have left you out here," Cas said kindly, shifting to sit more comfortably against the seat due to his injured back.
"Exactly," Dean added. "And you know we weren't gonna have Christmas without you." He reached over to pat Sam's knee before he heard his brother hiss and snatched his hand back. He turned back to the wheel, and put the Impala in drive.
"What do you say we stop by the next fast food place we see and get some hot food and drinks?" Dean said as he pulled out of the parking lot.
"Sounds good," Sam said, slumping wearily against the window.
They made it back to the bunker in pretty good time, warmed by the cups of coffee they had gotten on the way. Everyone was exhausted by the time they got back, but the bunker welcomed them home like an embrace.
"Alright, everyone into the infirmary," Dean said bristly. "We'll take turns patching each other up."
Dean sat Sam down on one of the cots and eased his boots off first. His injured ankle was swollen, but probably not as much as it could have been if it hadn't been for the cold. Dean wrapped it anyway, and then went on to inspect Sam's other wounds while Cas was looking at Jack.
"But you're hurt worse," the nephillim protested as Cas insisted on him sitting down as he looked at his head wound and then moved on to the puncture wounds in his shoulder where the werewolf's claws had dug in.
"And I'm not resting until you're taken care of," Cas said firmly.
Dean snorted, but glanced over at Jack. "Just let him do it, it will go faster that way."
Cas sent him a look, but Dean rolled his eyes and went back to prodding Sam's side. His brother hissed and flinched backward.
"Sorry, but you got a couple cracked ribs I think," Dean said, carefully inspected the dark bruises all down Sam's left side. That and his knee had taken a beating in the fall. The claw marks in Sam's thigh from his initial fight with the werewolves had stopped bleeding a long time ago, but they would still need stitches. Dean set to work on that and finished up at the same time Cas was peeling off his ruined shirt and Jack began to take the gauze off his back that was now soaked in blood. Dean pressed his lips into a thin line as he watched Cas tense with the pain.
"Hey Jack," Dean called. "Why don't you go get a bowl of hot water and some peroxide and help Sam clean his hands, while I take care of Cas?" Sammy's palms were torn up but they weren't so bad as Cas, and would be easier for Jack to care for.
"Okay," Jack said, seeming a bit relieved.
He and Dean switched places and Dean helped Cas bathe the long gouges across his back. The angel winced and bit back several grunts of pain, arching his back against Dean's ministrations.
"Sorry," he muttered as he picked up another cloth to clean up the excess blood. "These are pretty bad. Are you healing at all?"
Cas sighed. "Slowly. These last few months have been…trying. My grace isn't what it once was and it feels very…thin. Especially when I have multiple injuries at once."
"You need stitches?" Dean asked, frowning at some of the gouges that were pretty deep.
Cas shook his head. "Just use the butterflies. They'll scab over by tomorrow as long as I get some rest."
"Well, don't worry, we'll be doing a lot of that," Dean said with a smile.
Sam grunted in agreement, wincing as Jack held one of his hands palm up, scrubbing away the dirt and blood. "That sounds perfectly fine to me."
"We could all use a good long rest," Dean said, taping the last of the butterflies in place before starting to pad more gauze onto Cas' injuries. When he was done, Cas turned around and gave him a look. Dean rolled his eyes in acceptance and gingerly pulled his shirt over his head. He peeled the gauze off his side and leaned back so Cas could inspect the wounds.
"I guess it's not as bad as it looked," the angel said, sounding relieved. "Stitches?"
Dean groaned. "Just butterfly it for now. They're not that deep and I'm gonna try my damnedest not to do anything for the next couple days."
Cas nodded and finished up with bandages before Dean stood with a grunt and reached over to clap Sam on the shoulder. "Okay, I'm gonna go get you some clean clothes and then I say we grab some eggnog or hot chocolate—maybe both—and go watch some movies."
"I want to see Home Alone!" Jack exclaimed. "You promised we would watch it."
Dean grinned. "Sounds good, kid."
Soon all four of them had cleaned up, shared out some pain pills, and were all dressed in comfortable, warm clothes. They gathered their provisions and limped into Dean's Cave for a movie, plopping heavily on the couch.
Dean sighed contentedly, grinning as he watched Jack laugh at the movie, seeing it for the first time, and Sam and Cas smile as well. They were completely relaxed by the time it was over and Dean put on another.
It wasn't long before exhaustion started to win out though. Sam had passed out first and he was slumping against Dean on the couch, his breath evening out. Dean surreptitiously pulled him against his shoulder. Sam started and looked like he was going to move, but Dean simply hooked an arm around his shoulder and Sam settled again with a soft huff of amusement, resting his head more comfortably on Dean's shoulder.
Cas carefully extricated a half drunk mug of cocoa from Jack's hand as the kid started nodding off and he pulled the nephillim against his side as his own eyes drooped.
Dean was suddenly overcome with emotion, grateful that he had his family here with him, a little battered, but alive. He swallowed hard and smiled softly. "Merry Christmas, guys," he said.
Sam's eyes opened a fraction and he smiled against Dean's shoulder. "Merry Christmas."
Cas shifted himself and Jack closer to the Winchesters, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch to put over the nephillim and Sam and soon they were all huddled together in a warm, exhausted group, just grateful to be alive and together.
With the movie running in the background, Dean allowed his eyes to shut as well, comforted by his brother's weight against him as he drifted off, thinking that this might be one of the best Christmases he ever had.
I hope everyone has a lovely Christmas, hopefully without as much trouble as our boys did :P There may be another one shot up Friday, but if not then definitely next monday.
