The sun beat mercilessly down upon his burning skin.
Which was nearly tomato red in the desert sun.
The Texan air, hot and bitter as it is, without the ball of flame floating high in the sky.
They had been walking for a couple of hours by now in the sizzleing desert sun.
Twelve miles now seperated them from the Impala.
All silence was between the brothers for they hadn't the breath for words.
There wasn't a tree, breeze, nor cactus even in the wide expance of sandhills to relieve their thirst for water or shade.
Dean knew he was getting the worst of the sun, not that he would ever admit it.
He had refused water, trying to give Sam his. But Sam, being the bitch he is, wouldn't have any of that.
So Dean had settled for tipping the jug to his mouth but not letting the tempting liquid past his cracked lips.
Sweat coated nearly every inch or his body.
Dean was tempted to remove his shirt for it was getting a little cramped in the in the piece of cloth that partially stuck to his slick chest.
He looked over to Sam to see he was still looking determinedly ahead while all Dean could muster the strength to do was gaze heavily at the ground.
A mound of sand had appeared ahead and was entirely too big for his liking.
For the next thing he knew was the blazing blue sky shimmering above him and a very concerned Sam hovering over him.
"Dean?!" The word echoed and bounced around in his slightly sluggish mind and his brain barely registered the meaning of it.
"I'm fine," he rasped weakly.
"Just didn't see the mound of sand in time, that's all."
Sam just stared disapprovingly back at him. "Sure Dean."
As Dean struggled to get up he licked his chapped lips which was useless, do to the fact that his mouth seemed to have lost any moisture it had left.
Sam pulled him up, with a huff of effort, to his feet and he would have stumbled back to the ground if Sam hadn't caught him first.
Now, as they made their way forward, the younger brother lingered closely behind Dean.
Measuring and recording his every movement.
Dean went, with a sigh of frustration, to swipe at his forehead only to realize that his hand had come back completely bone dry.
"Crap," he thought, hopeing Sam wouldn't notice.
Quickly he wiped it on his shirt, acting as if there was liquid to remove.
'Looks like our little Sun God won't be showing for us today,' He confirmed to himself.
' But it's too late to turn back now. Looks like we'll be camping out tonight.'
They were out there hunting the Sun God , Ra, he had been brutally burning his victims until all that was left was ash.
The victims were particularly the ones with Egyptian ancestors who had no belief in the Sun King. So, really, it was just some wicked way form of proving to them he was breathing and, truly, real.
'I just have to wait until night. Then it will be so much cooler.' Dean tried to reasure himself but looking at the sky it demolished all hopes of relief.
'Looks like it's going to be a long wait.'
SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN
SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN
Dean knelt down in the giant burning sandbox.
The heaving ached as he emptied all his contents onto the desert floor.
He knew this wasn't good for whatever fluid he'd had that day would most likely be gone.
Dean barely felt the weak circular rubbing of his baby brother's hand at a weak attempt to sooth him.
When he finished, with a final heave, he collapsed onto his side.
'I don't think I can get back up Sam,' He willed his sibling for he did not want to admit that fact out loud.
"I think we should rest for a little bit," and with that little sentence release flooded throughout himself.
'We are only staying for a few minutes, but that's it.' Dean promised himself. 'Then we move again, we can't camp here with not even a cactus for shelter.'
Author's note: Well, I've been dieing for a desert fic and didn't find one that appealed enough to me or I haven't already read, so when that happens it then becomes your job to do it instead.
Next chapter is mostly Sam's POV.