Sam
We were tracking a wendigo in Minnesota. Of course it had to be in the middle of nowhere in a forest that people swore was haunted. I adjusted the strap of my backpack and called back to Dean, "Hey, how's it going back there?"
From several feet behind me came his reply, "Why do these creatures love hiding so far out in the middle of freakin' nowhere? This is why I don't get why you enjoy hiking."
I smirked, glancing back over my shoulder at him. He was carrying his own pack over one shoulder and a shotgun in his free hand. And he was clearly out of breath. I suggested, "Maybe if you went running with me or something, this wouldn't happen every time we go on a hunt through the woods."
"Shut up, Sam."
My smirk turned into a grin, but I left him alone. We hiked for another hour before it started getting dark. We stopped for the night and surrounded our camp with protective sigils drawn in the dirt. The last thing we needed was for the wendigo to catch us sleeping.
Dean took the first watch. I stretched out on a blanket next to the fire and watched Dean check his guns. I fell asleep to the familiar sound of him taking apart and rebuilding his shotgun.
It felt like I was only asleep for a few seconds when Dean woke me up to take the second watch. Without saying anything, he took my spot on the blanket and was breathing deeply shortly after. I added another log to the fire, moved a corner of the blanket away from the fire, and then settled down towards the edge of camp with Dad's journal. I only nodded off for maybe a minute. I was jolted awake by Dean screaming in pain and his shotgun going off. I rocked to my feet and rushed towards the sound, yelling, "Dean! Where are you?"
To my surprise, I heard my brother yell back, "Sam? Hey get back here!"
I skidded to a stop and spun around. Dean was running towards me, shotgun in hand. I stared at him and thought, Wait, if he's there…
The wendigo came out of nowhere. It slammed me to the ground and I couldn't get my arms up in time to protect myself. It was about to slash open my chest when Dean appeared. He swung the gun like a bat and knocked it off of me. He stepped in between me and the creature and snapped, "Sam, get up and cover me!"
The wendigo had disappeared from sight. I scrambled to my feet and pressed my back against Dean's. We waited for several seconds before Dean said, "OK, we need to get back to camp. On the count of-"
The wendigo dropped down from the trees above us, knocking both of us to the ground. I heard Dean really cry out this time and I once again struggled to my feet. I picked up the fallen shotgun and fired at the wendigo. It snarled in anger and threw itself at me. I shot it again and it vanished into the darkness. I waited to see if it would attack again, but it didn't show itself. I called out, "Dean? You alright?"
No reply.