Dean
"So, 'nother Wendigo?" Dean asks his brother as he drives down a dark, lonely highway with his headlights serving as his only light in the darkness.
"Looks like. Winter's coming. Chill is starting to come in; and three people are missing in a week and have all been reported in a forest. I don't know about you but this sounds like our kind of thing," Sam explains, listing off clues out of a newspaper he got recently. Sam takes out a highlighter and starts to highlight things and writing down notes.
Dean smirks at his brother. Dork, he thinks, his eyes resting on the road.
"And where is this at, exactly?" Dean questions.
"Down at Comer, Georgia," Sam says, seeming completed the highlighting and folding the newspaper up, stuffing it in a compartment.
"All right, where are we now?" Dean asks.
"I don't know. I haven't seen a road sign since we left the last town and my cell doesn't get reception here," Sam explains.
"And that was…"
"Three hours ago?" Sam responds.
Dean checks his watch. "Huh," he whispers, dumbfounded and looking at his brother. "Well, I'll be damned. Where the hell are we?"
As they face a couple of minutes of silence, the sudden beep of Dean's EMF detector startles the two. Dean curses, daring to look back and separating his eyes from the road for barely a second when Sam suddenly tenses.
"Dean, look out!" Sam shouts, looking at the road with panicked eyes.
Dean turns back to the road, his hands on the wheel losing control for a second to look for the cause of Sam's panic. He squints, finally regaining partial control of the wheel when he sees what's on the road. It's a coyote.
"Dean, move!" Sam says.
He swerves the car, aiming to hit the brakes but hits the accelerator instead. He never actually wanted to do that but Sam's urgency made Dean feel like he was gonna run over a three-year old child instead of a wild coyote. It's not like he wouldn't feel guilty, but he wouldn't be as sorry as he would be if it were a kid.
The Impala smashes into a road sign, the first one they stumble upon. The sound of glass breaking and metal groaning tortures Dean's ears, nearly making him deaf.
His head makes contact with the steering wheel and an explosion of pain spreads throughout his head. Bright lights dance across his vision, taunting him in his pain.
His head bounces back to the seat and he groans, holding it, the lights still apparent.
"God dammit!" He mutters, opening his eyes despite the pain.
His vision is doubled and blurry, and his head throbs in agony. He huffs out a breath and moves his leg out the window, sucking in a breath as he does. He sticks out another and stands.
He cries in pain, his knee giving out under him as an agonizing pain strikes his leg. He looks down. Blood splatters all over his jeans and his leg is probably broken or fractured. Other than that, the rest of him doesn't seem to have suffered any serious damage.
He looks at the front of the car. It's completely totaled.
"Son of a—" he mutters, looking around for the coyote. He slams his fist down on the Impala. "Dammit!"
He turns to look at the sign. It reads 'Storybrooke'.
He winces. It sounds like some sort of new segment in Disneyland. "Storybrooke? Really?"
"Sammy!" he calls. "We're in Storybrooke! I crashed into the damn sign."
As he waits for Sam to reply, he wipes a hand down his face as. His whole hand is covered in blood.
"Sammy?" he calls, his heart speeding up.
He looks through the window to see Sam unconscious, his face splattered with blood and his nose most likely broken.
"Sammy?!" Dean cries, limping to the other side of the car. He checks for a pulse around Sam's neck, making sure that he doesn't confuse his own racing blood with Sam's. He catches a bit of a pulse, feeling it but it barely pumps. Sam's breathing is ragged, shallow and slow.
"Sammy?!" Dean shouts, shaking him in hopes that he'll wake up. "Sammy!"
He looks at the sign again. Town can't be that far away.
"Don't worry Sammy. I'll get you help. I promise," he says, limping backwards for one last glance at his little brother and then limping away, in search for help.
Emma
Emma sits at the bar at Granny's, another celebration going on. Everyone's there; Mary-Margaret, David, the dwarfs, Ruby, Ashley, Henry—everyone.
Emma smiles. She's still not used to the whole "family" or "fairy-tales being real" concept.
"Mom!" Henry calls, happily. Emma looks over to see a grinning Henry beckoning her to come.
"What?" she asks, standing up and walking over.
He holds out a plate with strawberry cake on it. "Want some?"
She shakes her head, scrunching up her nose at the cake. It's not that she hates it, she's perfectly fine with cake, but she just doesn't have the stomach for it now. The thought of Jiminy Cricket sitting next to her makes her insides quiver with nervousness, and adding cake to the mixture wouldn't make a good outcome. "No thanks, Henry. I'm good."
Emma takes a sip of her beer as she sits back down on the bar stool.
She looks around, seeing everyone smiling; even Leroy puts on a smirk for tonight. It gives such an illusion of perfection that seems like it's impossible to break. But it is, sometime, she thinks.
"Mom!" Henry calls and his tone...is not happy.
She turns in her stool and stands up, walking over to him. He's pressed against the window, looking outside while everyone's talking. She's just glad that he's not pressing his face against it like he usually does.
"What?" she asks, coming up behind him.
She looks outside, curious as to what he sees. A movement catches her eye and she freezes, every muscle in her body stiffening.
A limping shadow stumbles on the sidewalk, the limited light not letting her see his face. Suddenly, all the people inside, chatting and having a good time, is just a background noise to the suspense building inside of Emma.
She quietly watches as the shadow comes within view of the window. It walks on the shaded side so Emma still can't see his face. All she could tell of the shadow is that it was a guy.
The shadow finally approaches the door and Henry walks over to stand beside it. After Emma processes what he just did, it swings open.
The noise of everyone immediately stops and a small amount of gasps float into the suddenly tense air. Emma turns and freezes in shock, watching in horror at what's in front of her.
You remember about the perfection she mentioned earlier? Yeah, that time is now broken. It came quicker than expected.
It's a man, coated in blood and his leg standing at an awkward angle. His eyes are wide in fright and shock. Panic makes his whole body tremble.
"H-help!" he gasps, stumbling inside.
Emma realizes what Henry just saw and sees that he stares at the man wide-eyed and practically traumatized. Emma pulls him away, behind her as he stuffs his face into her back and holds onto her tightly.
As the man stumbles farther in, everyone backs away, staring at him as if he's an alien from some other world instead of a guy that's most likely from out of town that probably got into some freak accident.
It's been a long time since Emma has seen anyone from outside the town before. And since the curse doesn't let anyone in or out of Storybrooke, she's ashamed to say that she's more curious about who the hell he is and what he's doing here than what happened to him.
"Who are you?" Emma asks cautiously as the man stumbles farther into the diner, stopping for a bit to lean on a table.
The man smirks the slightest bit, chuckling. "Huh. You'd think the best question would be 'what happened'?"
Emma rolls her eyes but still stares at the man. The man stumbles away from the table, leaving blood stains on it and Ruby cringes, obviously knowing she'll have to clean that up later.
"W-well what happened?" Archie asks, a glass of beer in his hand.
The man smiles, a pained one. "That's the question I'm looking for. Can I have that?" The man asks, pointing to the beer in Archie's hand and takes it before Archie even mutters a word. He gulps it down, setting it on the bar. "We crashed."
"We?" Henry asks from behind Emma.
Even though Emma can't see it, she could still feel that everyone else is just as shocked as she is at the fact that not just one, but two outsiders got into the Storybrooke boundary.
How the hell did he even get here? Emma thinks.
"Yeah. My brother and I were just about to pass through. Then I swerved…and crashed," he admits reluctantly.
As a silence falls all over the diner and Emma, knowing that no one else has the guts to say something, opens her mouth.
"A-alright. Let's get you to the hospital," she says, reaching out to put her arm under his shoulder.
"No, no," the man says. "No hospital, no help. I'm fine. My brother is out there, unconscious and he needs my help. I'll show you where we crashed."
"You need medical attention!" Dr. Whale says, but by the glint in his eye, Emma knows that that's not the only reason he wants the man under his medical attention.
"I'll be fine!" the man suddenly shouts. "Just help my brother and then you can help me."
Emma looks at him. He's not gonna budge.
"Listen, your leg is most likely broken and you can't walk much. Let's just—" Dr. Whale begins.
"No, let him. I'm pretty sure he's not going anywhere without his brother," Emma says, looking at the man.
The man smiles, a pained one.
"Thank you," he says, getting up and limping as he sucks in a breath.
"And where do you think you're going?" Mary-Margaret asks.
"Showing you where my most likely dying brother is. C'mon, slowpokes!" He says, opening the door and limping out.
As no one else follows him, Emma sighs, walking forward, knowing she's gotta do this.
As she leaves, she could feel Henry follow, hearing his small footsteps behind her.
Emma turns to him, gently pushing him back.
"No, Henry. I don't want you to see this. If this guy is barely alive, I don't want you to see how his brother is," she says.
"But I want to help," he says, pouting.
"And you will. Just not right now. You could help his brother and him at the hospital," Emma reassures.
Henry frowns but nods, letting Mary-Margaret comfort him.
"C'mon, sister!" the man yells from the other side of the window of the diner.
Emma rolls her eyes at the man, kissing Henry's forehead and leaves Granny's, letting everyone discuss how on earth the man or his brother got in Storybrooke.
Emma jogs to catch up to the man, who limps the empty sidewalk on the dark, cold night. As they keep walking, they start to approach the exit of Storybrooke.
"I didn't catch your name," Emma says as she looks at the man limp, making sure he won't fall. She can't help but admire his sheer determination to find his brother.
"That's 'cause I never mentioned it," he says, turning his hazel eyes to her in a sideways glance.
"And what might it be?" she asks.
"Well, sheriff," he says, eyeing the sheriff badge on her belt. "I'm Dean. My little brother Sam is still in the car. I came to get help, not an interrogation."
Emma stays quiet, not sure of what to say next.
"And you are?" Dean questions, not looking at her.
Something isn't right about this guy, Emma thinks as she eyes him warily.
"Emma," she responds, her answer short.
He glances at her. "You look like an Emma."
As it stays quiet, Emma decides to say nothing else, just keep on walking and looking at the ground. Then his footsteps stop.
She looks up at him to see his determination shattered into panic and shock.
"What?" she asks, looking at him. "What's wrong?"
"Sammy," he whispers, ignoring her. "Sammy!"
He starts to limp again, faster. As Emma looks forward to see what the heck he's talking about, she sees a completely totaled car. Based on the smoke coming out of under the smashed hood, it's new.
Dean limps to the passenger side of the car, approaching the door.
Emma jogs up to his side, her muscles freezing in horror once her eyes land on the sight.
The passenger door has a big, gaping hole. The metal stretches outward, as if something—something big—had pulled something out.
And the worst part is…there is no Sam.
Dean cries out, cursing.
"I knew it! I knew I shouldn't 've left him here! I should've waited for him to wake up! I-I should've…" Dean stutters, letting out another yell and slamming his fist down on the car, making Emma jump.
"Dean. Calm down…" Emma begins.
Dean turns around to the vast, dark forest.
"Sam! Sammy!" He calls, limping forward and into the forest.
"Wait! Dean, wait!" Emma shouts after him to see him a couple feet away, limping quickly. "Dean, come back here! You're hurt and it's late! You can't look for him!"
Dean turns to Emma, a cold look in his eye. "Watch me," he dares.
He turns back, limping faster.
"Dean!" she calls again, chasing after him.
He limps faster, almost falling. From what Emma can see, he's practically tripping over the ground. She doesn't know how he's still standing. Then he falls, a sickening crack reaching Emma's ears, making her stomach churn.
"Dean!" she cries, running to his side.
She reaches him to see him trying to crawl to look for his brother.
"Dean!" she says, shaking him by the shoulders. "Dean!"
He looks at her, his eyes panicked and worried.
"Dean. You can't. You just broke your leg and it's freezing. I'll send out a search party and tow your car to look for any signs of who or what took your brother. I promise you that," Emma promises.
Dean's eyes soften, the sweat on his face mixing with his tears. Emma thought she'd never see such a tough looking guy…cry.
He nods, swallowing.
She lifts him up and, for the first time this night, he accepts her help, throwing an arm around her to let her help him with his bad side.
They walk passed the trashed car and Dean glances at it.
"If I ever see the coyote again, I'm gonna kill the damn thing," he mutters.