Hi my wonderful readers, here is my new story for you to enjoy. it's set in season 8 when our boys were not happy.
Please forgive all mistakes they're mine alone.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of the wonderful characters that I am taking on this journey.
Chapter 1
Separation
Dean felt like he had been walking around this forest for hours, Sam had completed the research on this hunt and he was adamant by his research that it was indeed a Wendigo that was acting slightly out of character, because it had been targeting people that all had a family connection, two sisters on a hiking trip with their friends were killed but their friends were left unscathed, a father and son hunting trip with a neighbour, killed but the neighbour survived, the list went on. Dean thought it was a vengeful spirit with a penchant for killing family members but Sam had been quite sure that it was a Wendigo. Dean still wasn't 100% certain what it was but he wanted to give his little brother the benefit of the doubt, even though he had been out of the game for a year he seemed like he wanted to help out for now.
Dean had been so mad and disappointed when he had found out that Sam had jumped right into the nice normal apple pie life he had with Amelia after he had disappeared, he wasn't convinced that he had been given the whole story but his little brother wasn't exactly being an open book lately, neither was he if he was honest with himself. He hadn't wanted to talk about purgatory to anyone, least of all Sam. He just wouldn't understand and since he had abandoned the hunt, the life and Dean himself, he felt that his little brother didn't deserve the honesty.
Sam had been moody and closed off since they had come back together, they were out of sync and he didn't know how to get back to how they had been before Dick Roman had exploded and destroyed everything.
Sam kept trudging along through the forest, sighing and scrunching his face in pain every time he stepped wrong and his left knee moved was jolted. His shoulder had been throbbing; the backpack he was carrying was digging into his back at an odd angle, making the pain ebb with each second step he took. He hadn't been able to get the words past his lips when Dean had first asked what had happened to him after Dean disappeared. It seemed so silly to be scared to tell his brother about what he had been through but when he saw how troubled and different his older brother was, he felt that if he was to start to tell him, it would seem so insignificant and petty compared to what happened to Dean. He would have been ashamed of Sam about how he had handled the situation and he would have told him how weak he was and how he would have done it better without even trying and how Sam should have known better with what their father taught them.
He looked up and saw Dean stop, look around, like he was trying to get his bearings then change direction and start walking in that direction, without a word or a discussion he just kept walking, silently pulling Sam along with him, as if he was tethered to his older brother. Sam closed his eyes briefly, wishing he had been, when Dean had disappeared, if he had, none of this strain or tension would be between them now and they would have worked to get out of purgatory together, possibly strengthening their relationship instead of breaking it apart. They would have made a perfect team, instead Dean had to turn to a monster, a vampire as back up and now Sam had been pushed aside and replaced.
He shook his head and took a few extra wide steps to catch up to his still peeved brother who wasn't even looking behind him to see if he was there. Making Sam's gut churn in guilt and his heart ache at the need for his big brother, who had always been there for him. Swallowing down the emotions that had bubbled up, he kept up his pace and let his older brother lead him to the cave where his research had led him to believe was the Wendigo's hideout.
Dean could see the entrance to the cave up ahead and he sighed in relief. He was both happy to see a place to stop and rest and anxious because he knew the few moments alone with his brother would be awkward and uncomfortable.
Dean made his way to a rock that was just to the right of the entrance and pushed his pack off his back and practically fell onto it to rest his tired and wiry feet. He watched his brother drag his body over to the rock next to him and he noticed his slight limp and the grimace of pain as he threw his pack down to the forest floor. He sat on the smaller rock with a groan that Dean noticed he tried to hold in but was unable to. He wondered what his brother was hiding to cause such a response. The big brother inside him, screaming for him to ask if he was alright, but the anger inside him pushed it down and he remained silent. His little brother had been perfectly fine leaving him to rot in purgatory, so Dean would be more that happy to allow Sam to deal with any of his own aches and pains he may have, he obviously didn't need him, so why bother. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam rub and rotate his shoulder few times, then straighten out his left leg and rest it on the rock beside him. Dean eyed him cautiously, this was something he had seen his younger brother do on numerous occasions but said nothing. It was getting harder and harder to not say anything as his worry for his brother and the anger of being forgotten, were having world war three in his heart and his anger just seemed to be winning at the moment.
After a few silent moments listening to each other's breathing to calm down, Sam passed Dean a bottle of water for him to drink from and he took it without a word, Sam put his head down and sighed. It was really going to be a long couple of days, if this tense silence was anything to go by. God he felt lonely and the little boy inside him ached for his brother back but was too stubborn to make the first move. He had to try to get the conversation going so he thought it would be best to stick to the hunt. "So, what do want to do? We could go in together and draw it out here where we set a trap for it or one of us can go inside, and bait it out here, while the other one waits for it to show and kills it" Sam was hopeful that his brother would pick up the conversation and go with it, maybe lighten this heavy air that hung over them.
"This isn't my first rodeo Sam I know what to do, but since your so gung-ho, I think you should be bait and when it comes to get you, all you have to do is bring it towards me and I'll save the damsel in distress. Do you think you can do that Sam? Maybe not forget I'm here and stick with the plan? Huh Sammy?" Dean knew he was being childish but he was beyond caring at this point.
"Yes Dean, I can stick with the plan... I didn't forget about you... the opposite in fact... You just jump to your conclusions, don't listen to my side of things, that's fine" Sam said, getting agitated with his brothers continuous snide comments about his abandonment. Dean had no idea what had happened and he may never know but if they didn't get past this, get over this relationship speed hump, then Sam would have no choice but to leave his brother again, for good. He wouldn't make his brother stay with him if he couldn't stand to be in the same room.
"Hey, you haven't exactly been honest with me, so just get off that high horse and just admit that you abandoned me in that hell hole!, your so selfish, I can't believe I fought tooth and nail to get back to you!" Dean was red faced from yelling and his hands were clenched into fists, he took a deep breath trying to calm down the anger boiling away. The fight or flight instinct that had become so important in purgatory, Dean was now standing on a tight rope between the two now, not knowing which direction to go in. He had become so used to fighting for each moment of peace, each breath of air.
Sam had his head down, looking at his feet, his breath coming out in quick puffs and he tried to bury his emotions, tears came to his eyes, he hadn't been yelled at by his brother in a long time and the fact that he had just yelled at him like a scalded child, now after all these years made him realize just how badly he had hurt Dean. He wasn't all that shocked that he had sparked that kind of reaction from his older brother but the ferocity of it had startled him, he had almost expected his older brother to attack him, punch his lights out, or even just put him out of his misery. Sam felt so low, so ashamed of himself. His brother really thought he had been abandoned and in a sense he had been.
"Ah, okay, I'll just... I'll go in and lure it out... Uumm ok, so I'll just be.. Yeah, ok" Sam grabbed the nearest pack and without looking back, he charged into the cave. Taking his flashlight out of his pocket, turning it on, checking that his pistol was firmly lodged against his lower back, between his jeans and his warm skin. He took a shaky breath and cleared his throat to shake off any of the lingering emotions that he had clouding over his head, and determinedly he resumed walking into the cave.
Dean stood where he was, vaguely aware that his brother had spoken, and moved away in a blur, his fists still clenched but his breathing was calming down and as he came back to himself and looked around, he finally noticed that his younger brother was gone, into the cave as he had directed. He took a deep breath, then a deeper breath and he was in the here and now and he took stock of what had happened.
He had let his emotions get the better of him and push his brother away. Yes, he was mad that his brother chose a normal, safe life over his family but he was also starting to understand his reasons. He remembered all too vividly what it was like when his brother had jumped into the pit, sad and achingly lonely, he couldn't count the number of times he turned to say his brothers name to show him something or tell him a idea or story of his exploits into normal with Lisa and Ben. Many times while spending time with Ben, who was so smart and funny, much like his brother in many ways, he would start a conversation with, "When Sam was your age..." Or "If Sam were here he would..." And almost straight away his happy moment would turn sour. But he was also grateful for the quiet, the safety, for a long time he couldn't even be bothered to get out of bed, let alone hunt down monsters, so to have the time off from their lifestyle was a blessing.
Shaking his head at his own stupidity for jumping the gun and failing to understand his brother and the circumstances in which he had found himself. Dean cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders, readying himself for when the monster was drawn to him.
Forty five minutes later Dean was pacing anxiously, finally realizing his last words to his brother may have been the last he would ever say to him. He stopped pacing and huffed in annoyance, his brother better be okay or he was going to kill him.
He grabbed his pack and put it on his shoulders, picked up his flashlight and walked into the cave with his brother on his mind. Wondering why he had been so irritated that he hadn't thought to put their phones on speaker so they could talk each other through this hunt, and keep his brother protected. Somewhere along the way, he had forgotten how to be a big brother and was more that happy to push his brother away, much like he perceived his brother had when he disappeared into purgatory.
His flash light's strong beam, lit his way through the rocky and often winding path, he could hear nothing but the dripping of water coming through the rocks as he made his way, he saw no evidence yet that his brother had even been in the cave, let alone that a monster lurked in its black depths. Suddenly he heard a groan/scream that was cut off at the end, as if the creature that had made it, had breathed its last breath. He didn't recognize it as his brother but it was definitely something that was no longer alive.
Dean came up to a section of the cave that broke out into a huge echoey room that had many paths coming off it. He shone his light over the entire expanse, hoping to see his brother or at least to find something to indicate which way he had gone. Suddenly a growl was heard coming from the far right, and it ended on a shriek and a grunt. Dean cast the torches light in that direction only to see the tail end of something being dragged away down the path. Dean took careful but quick steps to stay quiet but also to get over to the path quickly. He stood at the edge of the entry way and quickly shone the light down the tunnel that disappeared. He saw the back of the creature that can only be described as a Wendigo trudging along, dragging it's next meal, Dean was relieved to see that it was not wearing Sam's clothing, although to his scathing acknowledgement he wasn't 100% sure what his brother was wearing as by the fact he hadn't even looked at his brother in more that a week but it wasn't plaid so he would take it as a win.
He followed the creature quietly until it came up to another large room, sunlight came through the rocks in skinny, bright rays, which enabled Dean to get a better look at the victim, it was a male, possibly a hillbilly by the denim overalls it was wearing. Definitely not his tall, muscled, broody, little brother.
He took a step back into a small alcove he had past and knelt down so he could get the makeshift flamethrower he had in his pack. Suddenly he noticed that he didn't have his pack, but his brothers. He hoped that his brother also had a flame thrower as it was his idea that it was. Wendigo in the first place. His hand touched familiar shapes of his brothers few belongings as he searched for the weapon, a journal, a few paperback novels tied together with a shoelace, a map, a box of matches, a granola bar, bottle of electrolyte drink, lip balm, a folder with his brothers research notes, a lock pick set, on the bottom of the pack he found what he was looking for and yanked it out, an unseen object came flinging out along with the flame thrower and as Dean cast his light on it, he gasped softly. On the muddy floor of the cave lay a old photograph of himself at sixteen and his little brother at twelve, with their arms around each other, grinning like idiots. Dean looked at the photo for a minute, reminiscing on the day it was taken, at Bobby's yard, the brothers had just completed a ten lap training session through an obstacle course, that the trucker capped hunter had laid out for them, his little brother had sprinted that last fifteen metres to beat Dean who had bet him a weeks laundry duty and lost. Dean was so happy to see a smile on his little brothers face that he didn't care all that much. Bobby took the photo after they had finished reviewing the end of the race. It was a photo of a happy day for the brothers, a photo that Dean hadn't seen in a long time. He sighed as he looked at his little brothers teenage face in the photo, so innocent, so young and full of ideas and a thirst for knowledge. He didn't know his brother had carried this photo with him, in his pack for all these years. He was unsure when and where he got it but it reminded him that even though his brother had run away from their family many times over the years, he never left the memories or the wish to stay connected to that family behind.
Sam found himself buried under an unmoveable pile of rubble, rocks and dirt, small slithers of sun light streamed into the room highlighting the dust that was begging to fall. He could see his torch and his pack a few metres away but in his current state, buried under the calapsed cave wall, he couldn't reach either of them. He did a quick body inventory, he could feel multiple bruises and scrapes all over his body, however it was his legs that worried him the most so he tried to find out exactly was preventing him from moving out from underneath the avalanche that had surprised him as he had moved further into the cave, away from his brother in search of the creature that had killed at leave five people so far this year.
Taking a deep breath he realised that his upper body is clear of the rubble, however his legs were buried under rocks, boulders and debris from the collapse. Sam could feel the pins and needles from his legs being crushed beneath the weight. Sam looked again over at the torch and pack that where too far away for him to reach. Sam contemplated his options, he would be more comfortable if he could have the torch before the sun went down, so he wouldn't be in the dark, he thought perhaps he could reach his pack if he was able to move some of the rocks off his legs and relieve the pressure off his legs and hopefully not have any permanent damage.
Sam began with all the small rocks, putting them to his side! Noting that as he cleared away the rocks he found the pain increasing, making him wince as the pain shot through his legs to his back, making his head pound. He started to move of the bigger rocks and he took note of the colourisation on his legs, he knew the purple blue bruising along his calves was not a good sign but he needed to get these rocks off so he could get to his stuff and get out and find his brother, if he hadn't already left.
Rolling another large rock off his calves, he was more free to move around, so he tried again to reach the torch and backpack, stretching his body as far as he could, his fingers grazing the pack, he couldn't get a grip on it so he sat back and took a leaped stretch towards the pack and he grabbed the bag with his fingers and using the bags momentum he rolled the torch towards him. He was panting for breath, his head was throbbing, his face red and covered in sweat. He rested with his arms behind him, trying to get his breathing under control, the pain in his legs, especially his left knee was almost unbearable, it throbbed up to his back and shoulders, which felt like one big bruise. Once the pain had ebbed to a dull ache he picked up the torch and laid it on his lap, then picked up the pack and fumbled with the zipper, opening it he noticed straight away that it wasn't his pack, firstly there were porn magazines in the bag, as well as a bag of M&M's. He picked up the torch, flicked the switch and shone it inside the bag, there was such an eclectic mix of stuff in his brothers bag he almost smiled at its familiarity, there his brothers pistol filled with iron bullets, a flame thrower, lighter, a bottle of water, a salt canister, a compass, one of his favourite t-shirts, his brothers EMF meter and a dog eared copy of Huckleberry Finn, which he could remember sitting beside his brother in a random motel room somewhere across the country, practicing his reading. It was honestly one of the best times of his childhood, having his brother all to himself.
On the bottom of the bag was a small photo album of sorts and his brothers journal with a pen pushed into the spine, he remembered seeing the journal many times over the years, now it was half full and there were odd pieces of paper, newspaper articles and tags sticking out every other page, chronicling each hunt Dean had been on over the years, possibly starting when he left for Stanford and Dean and their dad stopped hunting together, up until the present day. He had never read his brothers journal, knowing the importance of and respecting his brothers privacy, so he put it aside laying his hand on top of it like it was his only connection to his brother.
Lately he and Dean had been broken, by yet another of his bad choices, the list was too long to recount and he was angry with himself that this time, he had tried to hide and keep out of the game to save the world and everyone left in it from the evil that lurked beneath his skin and his bad choices. The last time he stuck with hunting, he allowed a demon to convince him he was doing the right thing, by turning himself into a monster, this time, he'd shied away for the world, in the hopes he wouldn't do it again, only to disappoint his brother just as epically. All he wanted right now was to stay buried under this rubble and will death to take him, spare his brother any more pain. But the small spark of worry for his brother kept him from resigning to his fate. He was determined to get out of this place and find his brother and finish this hunt.
Suddenly his torch flickered and his breath came out in a cool cloud. "Shit" he whispered, as a ghostly figure appeared just metres away, it was a man who was covered in dirt, his clothes were tattered as if he had been in this cave a long time. He didn't move from his spot but he moaned "Hellllppp mmmeeeee" the spector moved a little closer to Sam, making him lean away from it and spoke again "I ammm prissssoner, sssssset meee freeeeeee" it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Sam sighed in relief that it didn't try to hurt him yet, he knew from experience that it wouldn't last long. He shook his head in disbelief that this hunt just gotten even more complicated.
Placing the pack to his right and the things he had found on top of it, he took stock of his situation, he needed a way to contact either his brother or the outside world, he put his hand in his packet, hoping to find his phone intact but expecting the worst, however his phone was in dead intact and when he turned it on, there was full power and two bars of cell tower reception. He found his brothers number and pressed call, putting the hoe on up to his ear he listened to the ringing and crossed his fingers that his brother would answer.
As Dean came back around the corner where the Wendigo had disappeared, he vaguely heard grumbly noise that sounded like the cave was unhappy and a light shower of dirt and small pebbles came down on top of him. He thought to himself that he had to hurry up and get this done, find his brother and get the hell out of there. First things first he needed to find the SOB and burn him to a crisp.
He sidestepped into the Wendigo's lair and caught site of an alter on the far corner with candles and other black magic ephemera. Tilting his head in confusion he thought on this piece of news, how and why would a Wendigo have such a thing, at this point in their transformation they were no longer human so would no longer gave use or understanding of such a thing. He would ask his brother once all this was over and they were high tailing it out of this town. He saw the victim that had been dragged into the lair and put two fingers to its throat to check if he were still alive... There was no pulse. He swallowed down the regret that they had been unable to save the poor soul. Dean listened carefully for any indicators of where the creature had gone, he knew it would not have gone far as it had just found its latest meal for it to go into hibernation so he wanted to get it before it killed anyone else, especially his missing and possibly injured little brother.
Dean walked over to the strange alter he had seen as he walked into the lair and he noticed there were old black and white photographs from the 1900's and a locket with what looked like hair perfectly preserved inside. He picked up a small black book with strange writing inside that Dean recognised as Navajo writing from the many times Sam would study different types of languages and texts from Bobby's library when they were growing up, he had been so ravenous for knowledge of all things historical, rare and unusual, especially when he realised that his physical prowess in his training and sparring, was no match for his older, stronger and lithe older brother. He felt that he needed to prove himself to his father in other ways, besides the strength and speed part of their training that he constantly had his sons practice.
Stopping once again to prepare the flame thrower incase the creature showed it's ugly head, he saw a spectral figure flicker into view beside him and whisper "traaaappppedddd, heeellllllllppppppp hiiiiiiimmmmm!" Dean tenced at the realisation that the ghost was talking about his brother, he put his hand in his pack for the small salt canister he had in. There for emergencies and popped the lid. "Prrriiissssssionerrrrrr!" The ghost hissed in his ear, he turned again and flicked the salt in the direction it came from, the chill of its ghostly breath down his neck making him shiver. He hadn't meant to scare him away if he knew where his brother was but he wasn't accustomed to having a ghost invade his space like that, and he couldn't trust the ghost to not turn angry.
Dean breathed a sigh as the ghost disappeared, he knew only temporarily but he needed to stay on alert if the Wendigo returned. He grabbed the black book, photograph and locket and poorer the last of the salt on the alter, took his lighter out of his pocket and lit it up, moving out of the cave and back towards the entrance so he could kill the monster once and for all. As he moved towards the exit, looking over his shoulder with each second step and he started to hear screeches and wails from the other side of the cavern. Picking up the pace he yelled "SAM!" To see if maybe his little brother had returned to the entrance way and they had missed each other, but there was no answer from that direction but in between the Wendigo's horrible screams from deeper inside the cave, he heard a very faint "Dean?" Come from the right of the cave, he noticed there was no entrance on that side of the path, shining his torch where the voice had come from, he noticed that all the rocks and debris that covered that part of the path, looked freshly laid. If Dean was to take a guess, his little brother was on the other side of that collapsed wall, with no way to dig him out on his own, Dean had to leave the cave to get help... leaving his little brother buried alive.
Tbc...
