Okay, here is Chapter 2. Enjoy!

When Dean awoke the next morning, the sun had already risen for several hours and Bobby was just returning with breakfast in his hand. Getting out of bed, he looked over to his brother, who had drawn the short straw and had slept on the pull out couch and now was now sitting on it, studying one of the books he had brought back from the library, while the other two were lying around with multiple pieces of papers sticking out of them.

"Dude, did you sleep at all?" The older brother looked at his sibling with a scowl.

"Couple hours or so…" The younger man responded, "Woke up and couldn't sleep anymore, so I thought I might as well use the time productively."

"Did you at least find anything?"

"I think I'm onto something, but I have to check a few more details, before I can be sure."

Dean smiled; this was his Sammy, always the geek, always checking facts. That's what made his brother's research always better than his or even their dad's.

"Alright, why don't you boys come and eat, you can go over this later."

Sam was about to give Bobby one of his 'I'm not hungry' speeches, but thought better of it, when he saw the look the older hunter gave him, still he couldn't resist taking the book with him, reading while he dug into his scrambled eggs and bacon, hardly tasting any of it in his eagerness to get all the details together. He didn't even look to pick up his coffee cup, taking a large gulp. Hardly able to turn his head in time, he spewed the sickly sweet liquid back out, before desperately looking for the real thing.

It was Bobby, who saved him by handing him the cup, which he drank down in two big swallows, while Dean almost fell off his chair laughing.

"Ewe, yak…" Still sputtering, the young man grabbed his brother's cup off the table, turning away and drinking it before Dean had a chance to retrieve it.

"Hey, why'd you do that?" The older Winchester protested.

"That's for putting the syrup where my coffee was supposed to be!" Sam grinned, satisfied with his siblings response.

"Yeah well, that's what you get for sticking your face in books and not looking." Dean grinned.

"Idjits!" Bobby used both hands to slap each of them on the back of their heads, but couldn't hide the big grin on his face. Taking their cups, he turned and walked over to the coffeemaker, refilling them with more of the steamy hot brew.

Sam took his cup and settled down on the couch again, loosing himself in his research material once again. The other two men continued eating their breakfast, keeping the conversation at a quiet level, as to not disturb the younger man, both of them anxiously awaiting the results of his investigation.

Their patience was rewarded twenty minutes later, when the young hunter put the book he was holding down and looked at them.

"Okay, so I'm pretty sure now that what we are dealing with is a Rarog or Zar Ptak, depending of which Slavic country you are from. Most stories though are from Poland."

Dean turned to Bobby, hoping the elder hunter had heard of this creature before, yet the other man just shrugged his shoulders.

"You sure of this? I mean, wouldn't this be a little far from its home country? And I've never heard of a Polish settlement in this area." The salvage yard owner questioned.

"Doesn't have to be a settlement you know, a single person or a family could bring an entity with them."

"Gotta give you right there, boy!" Bobby agreed, "Now, what is that thing anyway?"

"Okay, so the rarog is a demon of the wind. It usually shows itself as a hawk, falcon or dwarf…"

"A dwarf?" Dean interrupted, "Dude, can't be much of a demon, if he shows himself as one of those little creeps."

"You obviously never listened to the legends and myths about dwarves? They have always been the keeper of the riches and the secret weapon that helped turn the battle around and win the war." His brother educated him

"Dude, you're such a geek!"

"You're getting too hung up on the dwarf thing here, Dean. Didn't you hear your brother say the creature also shows itself as a falcon or hawk?" Bobby felt the need to side with the younger Winchester.

"Exactly, that's what made me look into this in the first place." Sam explained then went on, "So the legend says that the rarog would turn into a whirlwind and cause destruction to the lives and property of its enemies."

"Is there anything that can stop it?" Dean wondered. The elder Winchester was starting to believe his brother might be on the right track.

Sam's troubled expression gave away what he was going to reveal, before he even started to talk.

"There are a few ways that are supposed to work, but none has been proven. One is to kneel down in front of the cyclone and ask it for forgiveness. Another way is to throw a knife into the twister and it will kill it. And in Russia they actually threw a looped belt into it, because it was supposed to choke it."

"Yeah, sounds really promising!" Dean commented sarcastically.

"I know, but that was all I could find." The younger man apologized.

"Its okay kiddo, you did great, after all, you found more than Bobby and me." Dean put his hand on his shoulder, "We just have to do some onsite research."

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Armed with knifes and looped belts the three men arrived five hours later at the first site they were going to investigate. It was the place where the four hikers had been hit. It had been a one hour drive and then a four hour hike through the wooded hills until they got to a large clearing.

"I hate camping!" Dean complained.

"We are not here to camp, in case you forgot." Sam reminded him, setting his back pack down in the grass.

Deciding now was as good a time to take a break as ever, the three men settled down on the ground and Bobby pulled out three bottles of water from the cooler bag he carried.

There was no conversation, as each of them was on high alert, their senses scouting the area surrounding them. Every noise, every movement was assessed, most of them immediately thrown out as harmless, while others were further evaluated to be laid aside also in the end.

"Okay, let's check this out, so we can get out of here and move to the next sight." Dean said at last.

His brother gave him a crooked look, "Why are you in such a hurry?"

"Because I think this site is a bust." The older man retorted.

"Idjit, what did you expect? The creature jumping out and yelling 'pudding' at you?" Bobby scolded him.

Grumbling something unintelligible, the elder Winchester retrieved one of the looped belts and knives from the pack beside him, before checking his weapon and walking off into the woods.

"Wait; let's talk about this for a second." The elder hunter's voice demanding attention and allowing for no back talk stopped Dean in his tracks and made him turn. "We have to coordinate our efforts here. We'll trail the path of the twister until it's beginning and then spread out, working our way back towards here. If one of us finds anything, he calls out, so that the others can find him."

Both Bobby and Sam followed Dean's example and pulled the needed 'weapons' out of the pack, then followed the firstborn Winchester.

The path of the tornado, although not very wide, was a scene of utter destruction. No tree had been left standing, all of them torn out with there roots, which had left large holes in the ground, making the walk difficult. Pieces of wood were strewn around, none of them longer than five or wider than one and a half feet, which was unusually just by the fact that most of the trees around here were hundreds of years old.

The path of annihilation ended as sudden as it started and it felt almost as if there was a wall surrounding it, as the bordering trees didn't even have the smallest branch broken off them. If there had been any doubt left in their minds that this was indeed of supernatural origin, it was taken away by this. No natural disaster could cause such a precise path of obliteration.

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Bobby and Dean arrived at the clearing at almost the exact same time. Neither of them had seen or heard anything unusual. Waiting for the third hunter to arrive, they suddenly heard the call of a bird of prey right above them. Looking up, they saw a falcon fly right above their heads and disappear into the forest.

Instinctively both ran toward the middle of the clearing and stopped, grabbing the belts and knifes, while turning towards the direction the bird vanished to. It took only a few seconds before the distinct rumbling noise of a tornado started up.

At the same time Sam appeared at the other side of the clearing, running towards his brother and Bobby. He just reached them, when the twister burst through the edge of the forest. Pulling back, Dean threw the knife towards the wind tunnel, as Bobby did the same with the belt, before both flung themselves down on the ground.

For just a second the cyclonic movement stopped and time appeared to a stand still. Then the action picked up once again, this time with more force than before. Realizing that neither the weapons nor the facedown position were effective, the two older men took the only option left and leapt to their feed. In running Dean tried to push his seemingly frozen to the spot younger brother ahead of him, just to find himself lifted of the ground and sucked into the center of the whirlwind. Debris hit his body in several spots, causing him to scream out in pain. It was the shortest scream ever, as the air was sucked from him, the rotation causing a vacuum that didn't allow for live to exist. Almost instantly his vision started to gray, continuing with blackness creeping in from around the edges and finally taking over, dragging him down into unconsciousness nearly as fast as the supernatural cyclone had sucked him in. It happened with such a speed, he neither had the change to give a thought to his friend, whose body was being tossed around just like his, nor did he see his brother.

Sam had felt like glued to the ground ever since he joined his brother and friend. Unable to move, he stared at the rotating cloud, watching the two other men take action without succeeding, like he was watching a movie. His eyes widened as he saw them being sucked in and tossed around like puppets, his body still not reacting to his need to interfere. It never dawned on him that by all laws of physics he should be joining them and yet he continued to be firmly rooted to the ground.

The cloud came closer, surrounding him now and yet he seemed to have no trouble breathing. He knew he should be scared, terrified at that and yet he felt no emotions at all, didn't even feel the debris hitting him. His arms moved up, his hands pointing towards the two unconscious men, their bodies seizing to move and becoming motionlessly suspended in the air. They slowly moved downward, until at last gently settling on the grass at the same pace as Sam dropped his arms. The strain of holding the others down started to get to him, as first his arms, then his body starting to shake. Blood began to drip from his nose, yet he still didn't notice any of it. Like in a trance he felt himself being lifted up, his arms stretching out to the sides as he rotated upwards. The bleeding from his nostrils increased to a steady trickle and a stabbing pain tore through his head, yet his unconscious effort was rewarded at last, when the power of the entity decreased. As the rotation and forward drive slowed, the height of the cloud decreased and the young man once again found his feet touching solid ground. There was a last howling of wind, before a hawk appeared seemingly out of nowhere and disappeared into the wooded area.

For a moment the youngest Winchester stood, facing his brother and Bobby, before his eyes rolled back and he fell in a heap to the ground.

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Bobby Singer had no idea what hit him. One moment he was on the ground facing the tornado, the next he found himself waking up in the soft grass, his body aching all over, like he was tossed around in a washing machine. As his vision cleared, he rolled to his side, unable to suppress a groan. Looking up, he saw Sam standing about twenty yards away. Blood was running from his nose over his lips and down his chin. His clothing was torn and he was bleeding from several other areas on his body. Swaying, his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell to the ground unconscious.

Sitting up, the elder hunter fought the dizziness that overcame him with the change of position. When the world finally quit spinning, he noticed Dean lying beside him. The older Winchester was still out cold, bleeding from a large gash on his left temple, his left arm lying in an odd angle with a bone protruding from right below his elbow. Noticing the wound was bleeding profusely, he opened his belt and tore it out of the loops of his pants, tightening it around the upper arm of the younger man and effectively creating a make shift tourniquet. Satisfied that the bleeding was stopped, he checked for a pulse. Finding it a little fast but steady, he started to stand up, just to be overcome by dizziness once more. This time though, it was combined with nausea and before he could prevent it, he was vomited up bile. When the retching finally ended, he sat for several minutes, too exhausted to move. The headache and shifting of his vision told him that he had at least a mild concussion, possibly worse. All he wanted to do was lie down and go back to sleep, yet he knew that besides this being the worst possible thing to do, it was also not possible, as he had to check on Sam.

Getting to his feet continued to prove difficult and the ground wouldn't quit moving, yet in the end he was able to stumble his way over to the other Winchester. Relieved he sat down, closing his eyes for a second, before starting to check the younger sibling. The wounds to his right arm and thigh, even though bleeding substantially, proved fairly minor, being easy treated with a couple pieces of torn cloth from his shirt wrapped around them. The bleeding from his nose was more worrisome, as it seemed to indicate a brain injury. Pushing up first the right then the left lid, the older man checked for pupil reaction, as well as it was possible without actually having a flashlight available. Finding them slightly sluggish, yet equal, he let out the breath he had been holding.

Before he was able to go on with his inspection Sam started to come around, his lids fluttering and finally opening, revealing hazy greenish-brown orbs. It surprised the older man again and again, how much the color to Sam's eyes varied, going from a greenish-blue to brown or almost green to their current color.

Before the grizzled hunter could react Sam sat up. Letting out a loud moan, he pressed both hands against his temples, his head falling against Bobby's shoulder, as the other man had immediately moved closer to prevent him from falling forward.

"Take it easy there, boy." He suggested.

"…happened?" Another moan accompanied the one worded question.

"We just got sucked up into a cyclone, remember?"

Slowly Sam straightened out, his face still distorted by pain, yet his eyes focused on the junk yard owner, "Oh yeah, the rarog." For a moment he seemed lost, like he was trying to remember something important. Just as the other man started to get worried, he moved again, this time stumbling to his feet. Swaying, he looked around until his eyes fell onto his brother.

"Dean..."

The scream did nothing for Bobby's headache and brought the nausea back on. Still he tried to catch up with the younger man, as he staggered like a drunk over to the still unconscious man. Although he tripped several times over his own feet, he made it all the way, while the older hunter found himself overcome by dizziness and kissing the ground after only half the way.

Too involved with checking his brother, Sam initially didn't notice the other hunter was no longer by his side. Only after he made sure Dean was okay, did he turn and saw Bobby lying in the grass.

"Darn it!" He scolded himself. He should have known something was wrong with his friend. Getting beat up by a whirlwind couldn't have left him unscathed. Once again he tried to get up, only to sink back to the ground as red hot pain wrapped around the right side of his chest, making it almost impossible to breath. Blackness started to creep in from the edges of his vision and only the long training his father had put him through helped him to overcome the darkness and gain control over the pain.

There was no question about the source of the pain and he knew the only thing that would make it better would be rest, yet this was a luxury he couldn't afford. Instead he pressed his arm against his chest and very carefully stood. Slowly he walked towards Bobby, for the first time feeling the moisture dripping from his nose and running down over his lips. Lifting his left arm, he wiped his sleeve over his face, looking with surprise at the redness that soaked the cotton fabric. As he let himself down to sit beside Bobby, he wondered what exactly happened that made the rarog disappear.

"You okay?" He questioned the older man.

"Yeah, got a pretty ugly concussion." Bobby answered, "Besides having a killer headache, I'm having trouble seeing straight and my stomach is practicing flip flops in there."

"Sorry for leaving you."

"Hey, no problem, I'm just glad you didn't pass out again, you didn't look very steady on your feet either." The older man voiced his concern.

"I'm fine!" Sam answered in usually Winchester fashion, "Think you can make it over to Dean, while I get one of the packs?"

"I think so!" The answer was just a little too shaky for the younger hunter to like it, so he stood first, his arm still wrapped around his chest, doing his best to stay in control, as more pain coursed through him. After a moment of standing still, he reached out and helped his friend up, hoping the older man didn't notice the deep slow breaths he was taking.

After assisting Bobby over to where his brother was still on the ground, he made his way to the back packs. He grabbed the first pack he got a hold off, finding that lifting it aggravated his injury and once again threatened him with blackness. Stubbornly he ground his teeth together and put the pack over his left shoulder. He needed to stay strong for Dean and Bobby now, there was no choice in the matter.

By the time he let the pack down beside the older hunter, he was sweat drenched and found it almost impossible to keep from crying out. He was glad that the older man was busy checking on Dean's head wound again and didn't notice the condition he was in. Pulling out a bottle of water he took a sip before pouring a small amount in the palm of his hand and wiping it over his face. Although not very cold, the liquid still felt refreshing.

"Here, drink something!" He held the bottle out to Bobby, who took it from him with a grateful expression.

Pulling the first aid kit out, he used disinfectant to clean the wound on the side of Dean's temple, then applied steri-strips to it. It didn't look too big and hopefully this would be enough. Using gauze to cover it, he secured it with tape, before turning his attention to open fracture. Also the bleeding had stopped thanks to the tourniquet, he knew he couldn't leave it like this or his brother would loose his arm.

"Think you're okay to help me set Dean's arm?" He asked.

"Have to be." The answer came without hesitation.

Using the bandage scissors, Sam cut the sleeve open all the way to the upper arm, then tore it off at the seam. He cringed at the sight of the fracture. Even with setting it there was a change Dean might loose his limb.

"You ready?"

Bobby, who had scooted in behind the older Winchester and picked up his upper body, was holding on tight the senseless young man's upper arm and nodded. Setting his booted foot down right beside his brother's chest to keep him from moving, Sam grabbed the lower arm and rotated it slightly, before pulling back in a strong smooth motion. When he was finished, he looked at the results, grateful that the bone was no longer protruding and that Dean had remained unconscious throughout the procedure.

After splinting and wrapping the area, he used a sling to immobilize the arm as well as possible. It wasn't much, yet it would have to do until they could get to a hospital. Pulling an extra sweater out of the pack, he rolled it up and laid it underneath Dean's head, after Bobby and he settled him back down on the ground. It was at that exact moment that the older Winchesters eyes finally opened.

"Glad to see you finally decided to join the world of the living again. I thought I would have to carry your ugly ass all the way back to the car." Sam tried to hide the actual worry he felt.

Even though the older man was just waking and in pain, he was able to see right through the mask. Only the fact that he wasn't really sure what happened und still felt woozy kept him from giving back a smart retort.

" you do'ng?" He asked instead, trying to swallow the frog that seemed to be stuck in his throat.

Finding a bottle pressed to his lips, he swallowed the slightly warm liquid flowing from it, relieved by how much better his throat felt just after the first swallow. Sucking in several more gulps, he was disappointed, when the bottle was removed.

"Hey…" He protested.

"You can have more in a moment. Don't want you to get sick." Sam smiled, "As for me, I'm a lot better than you are." It was so Dean to mother hen him the moment he woke.

"What happened?"

"The rarog happened. He tossed you and Bobby around like you were rag dolls."

"What about you?" The older man didn't miss the ragged appearance of his brother's clothes or the blood on them and his face.

"Told you I'm fine, you guys took the brunt of it. Bobby here got quite a concussion." He turned and let out a curse, as he noticed the older man had passed out again. "Shit!"

"What?" Dean tried to roll over, but instead let out a cry of pain.

"You have to lie still; your arm is busted up pretty bad." The younger man put his hand on his shoulder to prevent him from moving any further. Digging in the first aide kit, he pulled out a pill bottle and shook four of them into his brother's uninjured hand, "Here take this?"

"What is it? Hope nothing to knock me out?"

"Just regular strength Ibuprofen, I need you to be as clearheaded as possible." He assisted his brother to take another drink after Dean had popped the pills into his mouth, "You okay for a moment, I got to check on Bobby."

"Sure." Dean mumbled, hoping their older friend was alright.

Turning his head, he watched as Sam assessed the junk man, before gently trying to rouse him. It took him several attempts, but finally the elder hunter started to moan and his lids fluttered open.

"Damn concussion."

Sam exchanged a glance with his brother, noting that he wore a big grin on his face. Returning it, he looked back to their friend, "Good to see you're okay, or at least you will be. Need some Ibuprofen?"

"Guess I could use some, might keep the dwarf from hammering around in my head."

The younger hunter helped him take the medication, before saying, "Speaking about dwarves, I don't think our rarog is gone yet. We have to be prepared for it to return."

"What you have in mind?" Bobby asked.

"I think first of all we need to get in the middle of the clearing. We have no idea from which direction it is going to come and we are too close to the trees here."

"You're probably right there." The elder man agreed.

"Okay, so let's get moving then." Dean through in, ready to move, yet sorely disappointed, when the first move he made left him reeling with pain.

"You guys stay put. The other packs are already there, because that's were we left them. I'll get the sleeping bags out, so we all can get somewhat comfortable while we're waiting and make plans." The youngest Winchester ordered.

Making his way to standing proved difficult, as he felt two pairs of eyes on him and the pain from his right chest once again left him breathless. Grinding his teeth together, he retrieved the kit and put it back in the pack, before carefully picking it up and carrying it to the middle of the clearing.

The two other men could see clearly that their youngest wasn't as fine as he insisted on being. The way he moved, keeping his right arm pressed against his side, while slightly swaying, it was easy to see through his charade. The worst thing was both of them were well aware of the fact that they were in no condition to help him. The only thing they could hope was that Sam was only dealing with some bruised ribs, rather than some more severe injury.

It took the younger man almost half an hour to complete the simple task of getting out the sleeping bags and laying them out on the ground and moving the packs to the heads for support after removing all the necessary things. He had to rest several times, finally giving in and taking some pain meds himself. By now he was sure that the others had noticed his condition and when he returned to assist them, he had prepared an explanation. To his surprise neither Dean nor Bobby said a word.

Helping his brother move first, he was glad when the older Winchester was lying down again, as Dean was trying not to lean on him, but couldn't help doing so, being only halfway conscious by the time they made it. Although he wanted nothing more than to rest, Sam knew he would likely not be able to get back up any time soon, if he sat down now, so he made his way back and helped the older hunter move also.

After he settled and checked both men, making sure they were only sleeping, he allowed himself to sink down on his sleeping bag. Loosing all the adrenaline that kept him going until now, he gave in to unconsciousness, as pain and shortness of breath overwhelmed him. His last thought was of the rarog, who would have a field day with them, if it was going to return, while he was down.

TBC

Hope this was okay. Please let me know again. I really appreciate it. Hugs, Vonnie