A/N: Oh, you guys! Why'd you all have to be so nice in your reviews?! You all totally appealed to my poor impulse control, which demanded I put up another chapter today instead of the previously-mentioned next week. Dammit. Still, it was completely flattering and lovely to see so many people faved and followed and reviewed, especially for a measly little prologue (admittedly, all my chapters are about 1,500 words long...but you get the point!) so thank you all so much. Here, have the real chapter one as a reward! Enjoy!
WARNINGS: Forgot to mention the standard 'I'M BRITISH, DON'T PICK ON MY FAILING AT TRYING TO WRITE ALL AMERICAN-LIKE' in the prologue. My bad. Also, haven't edited nearly as thoroughly as usual and since I'm using you all as unoffical Betas (NOT EVEN ASHAMED.), if you spot a mistake let me know, por favor.
SPOILERS: No real spoilers, but set in Season One before 'Home' and back when the boys were still getting coordinates from John.
DISCLAIMER: The fic's mine...but the boys aren't.
Into the Wild
CHAPTER 1
Dean surveyed the flares and absently grabbed a few from the shelf. He took them to the cashier, lost in thought. Everything was so tense right now with Sammy. He just needed a freakin' break once in awhile. But, Sam was insistent. Searching for Dad and whatever killed Mom and Jessica came first and that regime wasn't going to end anytime soon unless they were forced to quit.
Dean groaned lightly, a hand running through his short hair, indicating his stress.
"You okay, son?" the man behind the counter asked as he priced up the flares.
"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. I'm fine, thanks," Dean replied, snapping out of his funk and pulling out his wallet.
"You looked miles away there for a second," and the old guy grinned, wrinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes.
"Yeah, well. You know how it is. Family and all that. Can't live with 'em..." Dean sighed.
"...Can't live without 'em," the man finished. He held out his hand for Dean to take. "Name's Brian Myers."
"Dean," the hunter replied, careful to leave his last name out. The old man seemed to get it and he grinned again.
"So, tell me, son, what's your family done to rub you up the wrong way?"
Dean hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should say anything. But, once again, Brian seemed to understand.
"Hey, you don't have to tell me. I'm just a nosy son of a bitch, that's all," he said, chuckling.
Dean smiled. "Nah, it's nothing. Just kid brothers, you know? Think they know everything."
"I hear you. I've got three of them and each one thinks they're the smartest thing to walk God's earth. Don't seem to understand that us older siblings put up with a lot of crap. We have to look after the runts and accept that we'll never be quite as precious to our folks as the littlest one. You know what I mean?" Brian stated, shaking his head and clearly reminiscing memories of his own.
"Yeah, I do," the hunter whispered, strangely feeling a little choked up at Brian's words. They were all true. Sam just didn't understand. He'd taken care of the kid since he was six months old. That kind of responsibility...his brother couldn't possibly understand the weight on Dean's shoulders. Not to mention their dad. Sam was so sure, so adamant that John was disappointed in him, that Dean was the favoured son.
He scoffed mentally. Please, he thought, that familiar pit of rejection only his father could inspire welling up inside of him. Dean was a good soldier, not a son. He seemed favoured because Dad never got short with him, because Dean always followed his orders.
Sam, for all his rebellious attitude, made Dad proud. They were alike in a way that Dean and John never could be. Dad took notice of Sam and, despite the arguments, was pleased to have a son that stood up for what he wanted. Dean was nothing but Sam's bodyguard, an extra pair of hands and eyes to look out for Sammy when John was away. His little brother didn't even realise how treasured he was.
Be glad, Sammy, Dean thought bitterly. Better to have the man on your case all the time than get nothing from him at all.
"Tell you what, since I'm feeling all sentimental today, I'll let you have these half price," Brian offered. "Just don't say you're gonna be taking them camping."
"Actually, I was. Thought I might need them in case I run into trouble. Trouble happen a lot round here?" Dean probed, taking advantage of the local man's knowledge.
Brian nodded sadly. "Only recently. Other side of the forest, they're building a new road. Can't see the point myself but it's going in all the same. All the momma grizzlies are getting anxious, moving their babies away from the construction, scrounging for food. Sadly, food seems to include people these days. We've had nine attacks so far. Tragic, ain't it?"
"Sure is," Dean replied, the cogs in his mind ticking over. He didn't like to admit it – there was no way Dad would mistake grizzly bear attacks for something supernatural – but Sam's idea that it was just wild animals defending territory was looking more promising.
"My friend Oscar was attacked. Killed him and his two daughters. They were the sweetest things. Only just turned nine. Damn shame. My youngest brother nearly lost his fiancé too, out on some hen night camping trip or whatever. She lost her leg, poor girl. Better that than to be eaten alive, though," Brian said, his tone heavy with grief.
Dean could only nod his agreement, too caught up in his guilt over the deaths of Oscar and his daughters. This is what happens when we get all turned around like this, Sammy. People die.
" I'm telling you, if these attacks don't ease up soon, me and a few of the boys are gonna grab our rifles and hunt the damn things down ourselves." Dean looked up at Brian's determined exclamation.
"You sure you wanna do that?" Dean asked, still not giving up on the idea that the deadly predator was a wendigo.
"Sure as hell. I won't let more people in this town die. You'd do well to keep out of our way, son. Camping ain't advisable this season," Brian stated, his voice dropping to an almost threatening level.
"Is that a threat?" Dean found himself squaring off at his newfound acquaintance.
"No, son. More like a piece of friendly advice. If you do have your heart set on camping, maybe you can join our hunting party. Better for strangers to be camping with locals who know the area and its threats than getting yourself killed on bear turf," Brian reasoned, his tone becoming amicable again.
"I'll keep that in mind," Dean promised, pulling the plastic bag containing his flares off the counter and getting set to leave before a passing query popped into his head.
"You said your brother's fiancé was injured by a bear? Can you tell me where she is now?"
XXXXXX
Sam looked up at the yellowed window as his ears caught the Impala's rumble as it pulled into the parking lot. Dean had been gone for hours and Sam had been getting worried. He knew his brother wouldn't ever leave him (You're the one that runs away, Sam, he told himself unhappily) but that didn't mean his brother wasn't angry enough to do something reckless like go into the woods by himself.
The door to their motel room opened and Sam felt a warm burrito land in his lap as his brother strolled in, clutching dinner, flares and the keys to the room and looking much calmer than he had earlier.
"You were gone a long time," Sam stated casually as he unwrapped his burrito.
Dean nodded around a mouthful of fries. "Yeah, sorry about that. I got talking to a local guy, Brian Myers, at the store. Nice guy – sold me the flares half price. Told me a bit about the killings. Said his kid brother's fiancé was attacked but she survived. Granted, she's missing one of her legs but she's alive."
"Oh, yeah? Have you spoken to her?" Sam asked, interest piquing.
"Yeah. Looks like a regular bear attack, man. Said that she didn't remember much but she remembered the bear coming at them in the woods. After that, nothing but heat and pain apparently," the older Winchester replied.
"So, does this mean there's nothing here?" Sam wondered aloud. Dean scrubbed a hand through his hair and he blew out a breath.
"Looks like. I tried calling Dad, telling him there was nothing here and asking what to do next or whatever but he didn't answer. As usual," Dean replied, bitterly.
"I'm sorry, man." And Sam was sorry, for arguing, for Dad's absence, everything.
"'S'okay," Dean swallowed a mouthful of soda before piping up again. "I'd still like to spend one night out there, Sammy, though. Just one. Just so we know for sure. The locals are going bear hunting next week and more power to them if it is a bear but I don't want anymore innocent blood on our hands just because we didn't double check."
Sam sighed but he could see his older brother's logic. Just one night in a cold, damp forest where there wasn't anything to hunt anyway. He could handle it. Didn't mean he had to like it, but still.
After all, what could go wrong?
XXXXXX
A/N: What could go wrong, indeed? Pfft, you have no idea, Sam. Couldn't put it in the 'WARNINGS' bit of my A/N up there, since it might be considered spoiler-ish for this chapter before it ended, but I know next to nothing about the behaviour of bears. I think they're beautiful animals (they're my favourite, in fact!) but I can't deny I know very little about their behaviour, likelihood to attack humans, etc. Admittedly, these are things easily researched, and I have done some research for future chapters but it's meagre at best. So don't get too frustrated if you're an actual bear expert when reading later on in this fic and all my bear experience seems to be based on that crazy one at the end of Disney's 'The Fox and the Hound'. Because it is.
Ad Astra.