I OWN NOTHING

Supernatural

Dawn had met the Winchesters slowly trekking their way through the forest. Neither one were doing much talking, both keeping their eyes out for Nina's traps. Just by reading the note, Sam had a feeling she wasn't one to be kind with her "obstacles." His mind kept flicking back to the Indiana Jones movies. He kept seeing one of them tripping over an unseen tripwire and a huge boulder start to roll toward them while they had to run, or a wave of knives or poisonous arrows whizzing past them, or two battle axes, chained to the trees, swinging back and forth threatening to hack them in half.

I've gotta stop watching those movies, he thought shaking his head slowly. Nina only had a night to set up everything; she didn't have the time to do all of that. 'Unless,' a small, evil voice, sounding oddly enough like Smeagle from the Lord of the Rings, started in the back of his head, 'She had this set up for a while, waiting for some unsuspecting hunter to cross her path. There could be a pit of poisonous snakes just waiting for you to step in or a hole, a deep hole, camouflaged by weeds, branches, and leaves with two hungry lions waiting for you to fall through.'

'That's just stupid,' another voice, sounding exactly like Dean, snapped. 'I mean, who would take the frigging time to get lions. Snakes I could see, but lions…'

'It's a possibility,' the Smeagle voice whined.

'Yeah, and pigs will fly out of my ass,' the Dean voice cracked. Sam made to tell both voices to shut up, but then realized the real Dean would probably think he was going crazy and he really didn't…

His thoughts were cut off when he felt something tighten around his ankle and he was flipped into the air. He let out a loud gasp of surprise as the world was suddenly turned upside-down. He was gently swinging back and forth, blood suddenly rushing to his head.

His brother was stopped a few feet from him, hand resting on a tree, trying to keep himself upright from laughing so hard. Dean couldn't breathe, his face turning red, and Sam was pretty sure he was about to collapse. Then the laugh broke up when Dean took a deep, gasping breath.

"Looks like you stepped into it, Sammy," Dean said trying hold back another wave of laughter.

"Ha, ha," Sam said sarcastically, his head feeling like it was in a vise. "Help me get down before I pass out."

"Okay, let me find a sharp r…" Dean had taken three steps, three steps he didn't take before, and was snagged by a rope matching Sam's. He made a loud yelp as he was hoisted off the ground, hanging upside-down similar to his brother.

"Don't say a fucking word," Dean snapped as he swung back and forth.

"I would, but I'm stuck in the same position," Sam grumbled, the imaginary vise beginning to slowly tighten. He couldn't think of a way to get down, Nina having taken any weapon they may have had. He thought of the matches that were in his pocket, until his eyes raked across the ground and he spotted the matches and the envelope with Nina's letter lying amongst the leaves.

"Perfect," he muttered as the edges of his vision began to gray. He looked at the rope, wondering if he could try and unknot it, when a shoe was shoved under his nose. The smell, from years of hunting in the brown boots, stung Sam's eyes. He coughed trying to push the shoe away.

"Knock it off, and just take it," Dean snapped. Sam did as he was told asking, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Hold on a sec," Dean responded as he shoved his sock at Sam. Sam took it, shoving the garment in his brother's boot. He was seriously questioning his brother's sanity when he heard Dean say, "Got it."

His brother fell, or that's what Sam thought. He was about to reach out and grab Dean's arm, but his brother landed almost silently on his feet. His knees were bent, letting them take the impact so his ankles weren't harmed.

"How the hell…?"

Instead of answering, Dean grabbed the nearest tree to keep himself upright. The blood rushing back through his body was making him briefly dizzy. When he regained his balance, Dean started searching for something to cut Sam down with. Not even four seconds into his search and he let loose a quiet, "Son of a bitch."

"What," Sam asked worriedly, wishing his brother would hurry up.

"Nothing, I stepped on a rock," Dean replied. Sam knew immediately that he was lying, two things making it blatantly obvious. One: a rock would not have constituted swearing. And two: there was a small amount of blood appearing on each leaf Dean stepped on.

"You stabbed your foot with a stick didn't you," Sam asked slowly. The lack of a response was his answer. Dean picked up a jagged rock, weighed it in his hand for a second, and then turned around.

"Hack the ropes," Dean said stretching up to hand Sam the rock. As he did so, he took his boot from Sam's grasp. Using the rock, pulling himself up by grabbing the rope with his free hand, Sam began cutting the rope.

Nina had used rope that was not thin, but not hard to cut through. If it wasn't for the vertigo, Sam would have been loose in a few seconds, but it took almost a full two minutes. Finally, he was free. He let his whole body fall right-side up, but kept his hands tightened on the rope so he didn't land on the ground at some awkward angle.

When he was sure his landing wasn't about to kill him, he let himself fall. As much as he wanted to avoid an awkward landing, he somehow managed it and nearly lost his balance. Dean grabbed his arm, steadying him.

"That sucked ass," Dean commented letting his brother go. He walked over to a rock, settling down to check his foot.

"Yeah, it did," Sam agreed settling at the base of a tree. "How did you know slipping your foot out of the rope would work?"

"I didn't," Dean replied pulling his sock over his bleeding wound. "But it was worth a shot, right?" he put his boot on, lacing it up.

"The things you are willing to try…" Shaking his head, wondering what they were about to step into next, Sam pulled himself to his feet. His ankle was sore from getting snagged on the rope, but other than that he came out unscathed. That's a first, he thought hoping he did not just curse himself.

"Let's go," Dean said standing up. He started heading deeper into the woods. Sam collected the matches and envelope from off the ground, shoved them in the inside pocket of his coat, and hurriedly followed.

"Your foot okay," Sam asked curiously, watching the back of his brother's head.

"I'm fine, Sam." If I had a quarter every time he claimed everything was fine I'd be a very rich man, Sam thought but otherwise let the subject drop.

"You know, it felt kinda nice to have a rope not tied around my hands for a change."

"We aren't tied up that much," Dean said glancing back at Sam.

"Whose life are you talking about, Dean? Unlike normal people, we get chained, handcuffed, and tied to pretty much anything. Especially when Dad was teaching us to get out of those things."

"Those lessons were great," Dean said a smile in his voice.

"Oh, yeah, being stuck in a chair for three hours because you can't get the handcuffs off was the best lesson ever," Sam replied sarcastically.

"The paperclip wasn't working right." The smile clearly fell from his brother's face.

"Dean, it was an inanimate object. You do realize those are objects without any form of life. Which means the object isn't to blame, it's the operator."

"Sam, shut…" the words never made it fully out as a bullet whizzed past Sam's ear interrupting Dean's tirade.

SUPERNATURAL

Dean yanked Sam behind a nearby tree as another bullet tore through the forest. He couldn't quite pinpoint where the shooting was coming from just that the bullets were flying from the direction they had come. He looked around the tree for a second, Sam yanking him back when a third bullet whistled past their hiding place.

"Okay, on the count of three we race toward that tree," Dean ordered pointing to a much thicker, half bare maple.

"That's about ten feet away," Sam argued in a low voice.

"It's either that or hide behind that skinny twig over there," Dean snapped pointing to a closer tree, thin enough to hide a 2D character and nothing else.

"Okay."

"One," Dean started holding up a finger, "two," he held up a second. "Three." And they both started sprinting, Dean pushing Sam ahead of him. Bullets began firing at them rapidly, pinging off trees and boulders.

They were hardly three feet from their original hiding place when Dean felt a sharp pain rip through his side. He took no notice, hoping beyond hope that he was snagged by a sharp branch. He tried to speed up, more bullets flying at them. Two feet from the tree, he felt a second sharp pain in his leg, one that nearly caused him to collapse. Sheer stubbornness kept him standing and both Winchesters reached the tree.

Sam placed his hands on his knees, taking deep, gasping breaths. Dean glanced briefly at his new wounds, both on the right side, and hurriedly pressed them into the tree so Sam wouldn't notice. The side wound went straight through, not hitting anything vital from what he could see. It was the leg wound that was the problem, the bullet still lodged into his flesh. He needed a closer look, but with Sam around that was not about to happen.

Just keep from passing out and Sam will never know, he thought to himself as he dug up every ounce of stubbornness and willpower he possessed. That was going to be easier said than done when blood loss came into effect, but he was a Winchester and blood loss had never bothered him before. So, why let it start now?

"Are you even listening to me," Sam's voice cut into his already occupied mind. Dean was startled back to reality, his wounds making themselves known. He glanced at his brother and said, "What?"

"I said, are you okay?"

"Me? Yeah, I'm fine, Sam. Are you okay," Dean replied, getting an eye roll from his brother as confirmation that Sam was fine. He looked around the tree, noting that no more bullets fired at them, which Dean found reassuring. He pulled his head back behind the tree and said, "I think whoever was firing at us stopped."

"Good, then let's get going," Sam said and started to head back onto the path. Dean followed, his right leg making its pain known every time he put weight on it. Just keep walking, it's not that bad, Dean kept telling himself. The forest isn't dimming in the slightest. You're going to be fine. No, I don't need to grab that tree for support. I'll be okay in a few minutes.

"Dean," Sam's voice snapped back into his thoughts. He hadn't realized he had stopped walking, that he was in fact leaning on a tree for support.

"What," Dean asked pushing himself away from the tree, but still managing to hide his right side from Sam.

"Are you okay?" Sam repeated worry the dominant emotion on his face.

"Oh, you know me. I'm not as young as I used to be, that run took a lot out of me," Dean lied smoothly wondering just how much more Winchester willpower he could summon before he collapsed.

"Okay," Sam said skeptically. "Would you like to rest?"

"No, let's keep moving. The less time we stop the less time we'll have to spend in these stupid woods. We've been walking for nearly an hour and we've run into two of Nina's obstacles. By the rate she's going, if we don't get out of here soon she will succeed in killing us."

"Fine," Sam scoffed and resumed walking.

They continued moving, without incident, for another two hours. It was supposed to start warming up, it was the middle of spring for God sakes, but Dean was still cold. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to stifle the shivers that had developed. The forest kept slipping in and out of focus. Keep walking, don't stop, he kept repeating over and over in his head. He was unaware of the trail that he had started, his leg wound slowly dripping onto the forest floor sprinkling the fallen leaves with his crimson blood.

Sam was saying something, but Dean just couldn't focus on what exactly. It had something to do with a fork. Why Sam would be talking about a fork, when there was nothing to eat, was beyond Dean's comprehension. And why is it so freaking cold, he thought as another shiver ripped through him.

He was so absorbed in his own head that he ended up running into Sam. His brother had stopped suddenly, apparently listening for something.

"…you…that?" was all Dean took in. It was getting harder to keep his eyes open, let alone concentrate on anything Sam was saying. His arm was grabbed suddenly and he was thrown behind a tree. Grateful for the momentary support of the tree, he leaned into it. Resting his head against the bark, he vaguely heard Sam whisper, in mostly broken up words, "…quiet. I…there….someone coming."

It was quiet for a few minutes, the trees swaying back and forth-and Dean was pretty sure it wasn't because of the breeze either. Then Sam said, "…gone now."

"Sam," Dean said in a barely whispered voice. Dean couldn't lie to his brother anymore, the trees were beginning to tilt dangerously and he was sure he would turn to ice soon.

"Yeah," Sam replied not really looking at him.

"I'm gonna need you to catch me," was Dean's last conscious thought before everything went dark.

SUPERNATURAL

After he had stashed the Winchesters' car in a storage facility in the next town over, Jefferson drove back to their motel in his own car. He had picked the lock while the desk clerks were trading shifts and had been holed up ever since.

He had phoned every hunter contact he had-which was a lot, not as much as Bobby's but up there-and found out that nine hunters had gone missing over the past six months. All nine had disappeared the same way. One or two of them, at a time, were lured into a hunt under false pretenses. All of them were never seen again. By using Sam's computer-never one to get one himself, too afraid of the computer trail-Jefferson was able to match up each faux hunt with the disappearance of the hunters.

He was just scribbling something down in his notepad when there was a knock at the door. He cautiously got to his feet, stashing his colt behind his back, and walked toward the door. He looked in the eyehole, actually surprised the place had them at all, and saw Bobby standing outside. Wearing the gruff expression he always wore, and the trucker cap to go with it, he was looking very impatient being made to wait.

"You shag ass to get here, Singer," Jefferson asked opening the door to let the older hunter in. Instead of an answer, Jefferson received a glare that, if looks could kill, would have had him in a grave before he even knew he was dead.

"Find anything," Bobby asked curiously.

"Um, yeah," Jefferson replied shutting the door. He crossed the room, picking up his notes. "Aside from Dean and Sam and Beckett and Tucker nine other hunters have gone missing over the past six months. Every couple of weeks one or two would get dragged into a fake hunt…"

"Like Johnny's boys," Bobby supplied crossing his arms across his chest.

"Right, and then go missing. Sometimes their bodies will turn up…" Jefferson looked at his notes, all scribbled out in his piss poor handwriting, and continued. "Three John Does and two Jane Does have turned up in countless backwoods all over the United State. Police never put the pattern together because..."

"…they showed up in different places, yeah I know," Bobby finished for Jefferson. He started pacing, every so often removing his trucker cap and putting it back on. "Didn't Joshua do all this research?"

"No, he only found Tucker and Beckett. I found the others. Research is a bitch, I'll tell you."

"What else did you find?"

"Besides an abandoned Impala that would have the owner tearing apart every inch of this town to find out who left her free to be stolen? Nothing. I have no idea where Dean and Sam are, I have no idea if they are connected to the other missing hunters in any way, and I am worried that if we don't find them soon we never will."

"How do you know these Does are the missing hunters," Bobby shot at Jefferson. Without a pause, Jefferson said, "I compared the pictures I was able to get of them when they were alive with their crime scene photos. It wasn't hard."

"Who were they?"

"Francesca Gomez, Michael Percival, Terry Darnell, Barry Denton, and Jaime Pack. Pack and Denton were found in the backwoods of Montana. Darnell was found in Michigan. And Gomez and Percival were found in Colorado. Two were shot to death, one was stabbed, one was found washed up on a riverbank, and the last was clearly strangled to death."

"We've gotta find the boys before something like that happens to them," Bobby said sitting weak-kneed across from Jefferson.

"I agree whole-heartedly, but how the hell are we going to do that?"