What If Sam was taken instead of Dean? Will Dean save him in time or will Sam be the Wendigos next meal?
A/N: So, I don't do what if fics. But imma give it a shot. This is what if Wendigo. Should have 2-3 chapters. I should start on some of the other fanfictions soon. I've been having a rough time so, now I just been writing when the motivation does hit me for a certain fix. Hope you guys like it!
Disclaimer- I do not own Supernatural, the characters or the episode! All rights to the rightful owners. I'm just using em ;)
Sam stared, his hazel eyes focused on nothing in particular as they rested ahead of him in a daze. His mind was filled with endless thoughts that tortured his couscous mind with images he would rather forget. They continued to dance around in his vision and what he should be seeing was over shadowed by the horrid memories that plagued him. His body was motionless, tense, against the tree that was no more than a stump. It no longer towered over the forest having snapped in two at the bottom at some point making the wood stick up in harsh splinters.
He couldn't stop seeing it. Jessica, his beautiful girlfriend, pinned against the ceiling with bright scarlet coating her silk white gown and making the blood more noticeable. Her hair, soft, long locks of blonde, dangled down. Her eyes, once full of life and warmth, were dead and cold, staring down at him with emptiness. Jessica's lips were parted slightly and he pictured her screaming his name, asking for him to save her. It gave him a sense of regret and guilt. He should have been there, should have protected her and maybe she wouldn't have died.
Sam let his eyes close. Whether his eyes were opened or closed, he continued to see her lifeless body being consumed by flames, watching as the fire started out small before erupting into a raging blaze of heat and destruction. He could still feel the heat tickling his skin as he lay under it, dumbstruck, but in that moment all her could think about was her and seeing her melting away as red and orange danced around her unmercifully. His eyes were glued to her pale face and as her flesh started to sizzle and burn, he felt the true weight of what was happening crush him full force.
Jessica was dead, killed by the same thing that took his mom. Sorrow and despair was immediate, being the only thing that he felt as he watched Jessica burn. He didn't register the urgent call of his name or the moment he felt someone roughly hauling him up off the bed and leading him towards the door. He only had eyes on the now charred flesh of Jessica and the ever growing fire that closed around the entire room, enveloping everything in a cloak of light.
Everything seemed to go in slow motion, to register in his mind.
Jessica was gone.
Sorrow and despair was replaced with anger and vengeance, a kind of rage that fueled that spark of hatred he felt. He wanted the thing dead, whatever had killed his mom and Jessica. It was an obsession, one that now stood on equal level with his fathers own thirst for revenge, because he KNEW what it felt like to watch the person you love parish right before your very eyes. He understood why John was so hell bent on finding it, why he was on constant hunt until he did pin it down and kill it.
Still, there was that rational sense, that little voice in the back of his head, that said revenge wasn't the answer. It was the functional part that told you it was wrong and could only lead to disaster. Then there was his heart. The fragile organ that felt more emotions and acted more freely on them whether it was wrong or right. Most people followed that instead, forgetting the other unwanted thoughts trying to tell you which path is the best path. Like not going down the road of anger.
If Sam was one thing, it was that he wasn't their father.
He would find the monster that murdered his loved ones and along the way he would save as many lives as he could. It may take longer, his frustration will no doubt grow and the nightmares will continue to haunt him, but at least he could kill as many sons of bitches along the way.
He opened his eyes and looked down at the journal he gripped tightly in his hands. It was old and worn but still held together perfectly. Engraved on the front was the initials J.W. He traced over the carved letters with a feather light touch. He wanted to find their father. That was a given, but, the words his brother said resurfaced from before.
"This book. This is dads single, most valuable possession. Everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. He passed it on to us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. Ya know, saving people, hunting things. The family business."
Saving people.
Hunting things.
Sam released a tired sigh. Dean was right. As much as he wanted to continue the search for their father, he knew that helping people was something that he should do, not because he has to but because it was right. If it meant saving those who have no clue about the nasty little creatures that inhabit the world, it was the best reward. There were so many oblivious people that were unaware of the truly evil monsters lurking out there in the dark. If he could save one life and kill monsters along the way than it was worth sticking around.
If killing something means taking his mind off Jessica and the phantom pain piercing his aching chest, than it was more than worth it, too.
Right now he was certain that they were hunting a rather nasty monster. A Wendigo. It was a creature that had the body of a man except much different. It didn't completely look human. It had arms and legs, but no male of female characteristics. Wendigo's bodies were also a pale shade of grey. They were consider cannibal, eating anything with meat, namely humans. It moved particularly fast and was hard to pin down but what really was to it's advantage was the way it could mimic a human voice. They used tactic to draw in it's prey, using sounds that it acquired from a person it devoured. Whether it was screaming or calling for help, it used it to confuse it's next victim. A truly marvelous hunter.
Sam didn't know much about them. Dean had always been the one that went on hunts with their father when they were younger. Sure, he had his fair share of hunts before he went to college but he had never faced a Wendigo. Fortunately, Johns journal had more than enough information on them and gave them the upper hand.
Sam blinked, his brows coming together as he played with the small chain that dangled out of the journal. He wondered where John was and why he chose to lead Dean on all these hunts. It really didn't make sense to him why their father would leave Dean to hunt on his own in the first place. It was one of the most important rules about hunting. Never go at it alone, always have backup. So why?
The thought was lost on him when he heard the faint sound of a branch snapping. Immediately his senses went on high alert and he bolted up from where he was sitting and onto his feet in a matter of seconds. Sam looked around him, his eyes carefully assessing every thing around him. He was surrounded by trees that reached higher than buildings and limbs just as long dangling over head. It was hard to see anything. Whatever he heard could have easily been a squirrel or bird. Except, when you're a hunter, it could be something entirely different.
He had to get back to Dean and the others. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea going off alone. It was a stupid move on anyone's part when you know what's lurking in the woods and choose to separate yourself from others. Sam wasn't really thinking at the time either, having wanted to be alone for awhile. He couldn't ignore the sudden gut wrenching feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Sam took a few steps back, not letting his guard down for an instant. His gaze never left his surroundings, eyes bouncing in all directions. He heard snapping of branches and movement above him and wasted no time turning on his heels and heading back towards the others. He turned his head in time to see the Wendigo drop down from a tree and jump through the air after him. It was alot faster, and alot bigger, than Sam was. It was gaining on him.
"Dean!" Sam yelled for his brother, the panic clear in his voice.
He hadn't gone that far but with the speed that the Wendigo traveled it seemed like forever since he spotted Dean and the others but he was still a little ways away.
Dean hadn't heard him.
His feet carried him as fast as they could go and it wasn't fast enough. Before he could make it to them he felt the unmistakable pain of sharp claws digging into his back. His body tensed and he fell to the ground with a grunt, the journal falling from his hands to lay abandoned in front of him. White hot pulsated up his back and he winced as it traveled from his lower back up to the back of his neck. Sam tried to get up but he felt something roughly grabbing his hair and pulling him back.
"Dean!" Sam yelled again, this time with urgency as he frantically tried to squirm out of the Wendigos grip. He hoped to everything in creation that his brother had heard him.
Having been dragged backwards, Sam saw the moment Dean turned his head in his direction. He watched his brothers expression morph into something from confusion to full on panic when his eyes landed on the Wendigo and who exactly it was dragging. Dean ran towards him, a look of fear and concern clearly visible as he dashed past trees and limbs.
"Sam!" Dean watched in horror as the Wendigo turned around, it snarled at him with yellow stained teeth and glowing eyes before adjusting it's hold on Sam and leaping up into the trees. "No!" But it was to late, they were gone.