Synopsis: When Dean makes one seemingly innocent mistake and is permanently injured on a hunt, how will his hunter father and studious little brother handle the changes? Can Dean learn to hunt with a disability? Will his father ever fully really accept this new side of his eldest son? What happens when the boys are thrown into an extremely dangerous situation…can they cope in John's absence and with the new limitations placed on Dean. This story will contain flashbacks that will enlighten the readers of Dean and Sam's past as it pertains to everything about the recovery from this one mistake.

Legalities: I don't own any characters associated with Supernatural…they belong exclusively to Kripke and the CW network…I only play in their sandbox for my own amusement and yours. I am not making any money from this, it is a guilty pleasure.

This story is both canon and AU based on Dean's disability. I'm on an injured Dean kick right now…so bear with me. This is NOT a SLASH story; it contains brotherly love, angst, and hurt/comfort only.

*And italics represent when the boys are signing and not speaking out loud.*

Chapter 4

A Lantern in the Dark

-December 2006-

The wind was whipping through the dense trees as the small snow white fox attempted to get back to its den. The sound of the engine clinking in the distance had it skittering around looking for an alternative entrance. The tiny white ears were pricking in curiosity when the large mass that leaned against the tree failed to move with the wind. It crawled forward, its belly dragging over the icy snow, and sniffed at the smoke blowing from the back of the car. A sudden flickering of light had it squeaking in dismay and pulling back toward the safety of the other trees.

The first sensation…pain. The second sensation…confusion. The light grinding of the engine was the only noise that penetrated the thick haze floating around inside of Sam's head. He groaned in pain and brought his hands up in an attempt to alleviate the pounding. His fuzzy brain was trying to put two and two together and determine why he wasn't in his own warm bed. He also wanted to know why the hell his leg hurt so fucking bad…there was a slicing pain that was quickly sluicing up his calf and quickly coming to a crescendo in his knee. "Son of a bitch…" He swore. Sam's hand was coated in red as he finally forced his eyes open and stared at the crimson liquid in surprise.

His head swiveled around and Sam was instantly regretting the movement as it exploded in a white blinding cacophony of agony. Concussion... He told himself. The sudden memory of his older brother's presence had him ignoring the pounding ache and prying his eyelids open a second time.

Dean was leaning heavily against the driver's side door. He wasn't moving and he didn't seem to be conscious, there was a long cut along his hairline near the base of his neck that was bleeding sluggishly, but that seemed to be it. Sam reached out and gently pushed at Dean's shoulder. His brother didn't react to the pressure. That's not a good sign. Sam thought quickly. Even knowing that Dean couldn't hear him didn't stop Sam was calling out to his brother. "Dean?" His eyes raked the small amount of light that was filtering through the busted up front window. It appeared as though the snow had melted slightly due to the difference in temperature. The heater was still trying to pump in what little bit of heat it could as the engine struggled to run. The Impala was still pushing out the tepid air in a valiant effort to save their lives. Dean would be proud of his beloved Chevy; she was doing her part to keep them alive.

The storm outside the cabin of the car continued to rage violently as Sam shifted and reached for a flashlight that he knew was always in the glove compartment. A ragged gasp of pain slipped past his lips as he grabbed the light and flipped it on. The interior lit up with a dull yellow light and he finally got his first good look at his leg. "Ah shit…" he grumbled when the stark white of a small piece of bone reflected the light back at him. He'd managed to break the tibia just below the knee, a compound fracture and one that was going to make hiking out of this mess impossible…at least for him. His eyes glided back over to Dean who was just starting to move his breathing shifting into pants. "Dean…" Sam asked again as he reached out and tapped his brother on the back.

The older Winchester flipped over instantly and then he groaned as his eyes widened and he sank against the door. "You okay?" Dean's voice was raspy, but at least he was speaking out loud. Sam nodded and flashed the light around the car, it eventually landed on his leg and Dean blew out a breath of frustration. He started to push at the door of the car in an attempt to get to the first aid kit that was located in the trunk.

Sam's arm shot out to get his brother's attention before he could make it out of the car. *Dean…it's a blizzard out there.* His hands signed as soon as Dean's green eyes rounded back on him. He shook his head and huffed.

"Your leg…you need the kit." Dean didn't even bother signing his answer as his eyes conveyed his sincerity.

Sam shook his head. He was careful to speak slowly so that Dean wouldn't miss a word. "Not if it means you gotta go out into this…neither of us are okay, Dean." He watched as his words landed on his brother and Dean's forehead furrowed in frustration. Sam knew that his older brother was getting impatient and that he was coming up with every reasonable excuse to get to the trunk. The blood that was still dribbling down his neck and soaking into his collar has Sam worried. Not to mention Sam's own blurry vision and aching head.

*I'm going Sammy…* He signed before shifting and crawling into the back seat. He swallowed hard before grabbing onto the handle and pushing at the door…it didn't budge. Dean groaned and then sat back, using his legs to push at the door. Again…nothing. "Son of a bitch." He growled as he ignored the pain that was climbing inside his head.

Sam watched carefully as his brother struggled with the door. He'd tried to say something a couple a times and he knew that Dean was pointedly not looking in his direction. Sam hated it when his brother used his deafness against the world. Like he's doing at this very moment.

Dean swallowed down the nausea that was climbing up his throat and the dizziness that was getting worse the longer he stared at the unmoving door. He needed to get them the hell off this mountain…and quickly. He turned and settled back on his ass as he shifted and lined his feet up and pressed against the other door. His eyes swept over to Sam and then quickly back toward the door. It shifted a few inches and he breathed out the stress of the situation as he pushed even harder.

Sam heard his brother grunt and then a loud groan filled the car as the door made a crunching sound and pushed open several inches. He reached down where he'd tied a t-shirt around the fracture; the thrum of pain running up his leg wasn't exactly comfortable. There were pain pills in the back with the first aid kid…their bags were back there as well, which meant extra clothing and sleeping bags, along with Dean's stash of junk food.

"I'm going to push through the opening and get that gear. You're gonna be fine, Sammy." Dean said before shoving his way through the narrowly opened door and into the icy pins of snow swirling through the small opened area. He pushed the door closed in an attempt to keep as much heat inside the vehicle as possible. Sam had already lost a fair amount of blood and was likely to go into shock before Dean could get them out of this mess.

The ice pounded his face and he could swear that small knives were cutting swaths of skin from his head and neck. The leather jacket wasn't doing much to cut the wind and the snow was piling up higher and higher as it fell in a nearly steady stream of crystal white flakes. He tried to see into the distance, but the thick trees prevented him from seeing much with his small flashlight. He groaned as he pulled the trunk open and started grabbing gear. He carefully rounded the car and opened the back door again. He threw the bags onto the seat and continued until he'd cleared the trunk of almost everything, but some of the weapons. He did grab several shotguns in addition to the handguns and the ammo. It never hurt to be safe…and it always hurt to be sorry…in his experience.

Dean was just about ready to close the trunk when he noticed a small lantern sitting in the corner. His fingers shook as he reached out to grab the green metal can. Memories assaulted him as his hand closed around the handle.

XXXX

-April 1997-

Dean trudged through the forest. The old adage 'Sometimes it's hard to see the forest for the trees' ran through his head. They were searching for a Wendigo and neither Sam nor their father seemed to be hearing anything. Both of the Winchesters were looking off into the distance, their lips were moving, so Dean assumed that they were talking to one another. The fact that he couldn't participate in that conversation was making him feel more alone than he'd felt in a long time. His eyes scanned the canopy of the pine trees and he sighed when he saw a blue jay spring from one tree to the next. It was obviously after something that only it could see and it made Dean wonder what exactly that could be.

He glanced back at the path just in time to see Sam trotting toward him. His little brother was carrying a large kerosene lantern and a broad grin. He pulled a large pad of paper from his backpack as soon as he stopped in front of his older brother. Dean raised an eyebrow as he waited for Sam to tell him what the plan was.

Dean, dad wants us to check out this trail. He's gonna follow a trail that leads over toward a mine and then he'll meet up with us in two hours at the point of the trail.

"We're splitting up? That's brilliant." He said.

Sam's dark eyebrows furrowed at the unfamiliar dissention he heard in Dean's response. He shrugged and placed the lantern in his pack.

They'd followed the trail for almost a mile when Dean stopped and squatted down, grabbing a broken branch and twisting it. The break was recent and there was something on it…a black sticky substance that definitely wasn't blood. But it was something similar. He handed it back to Sam. "It's not blood." Dean said quickly.

He stood back up and started walking again. The sudden loss of ground beneath his feet had him tumbling into the darkness. An unwanted cry of surprise was ripped from his lips as he hit the ground in a tangle of limbs. The light disappeared from above his head as the dirt from the edges of the hole fell in and landed on top of him. His last thought was that Sam had just seen him fall…and he prayed that Sammy would be smart enough to go get their father. Dean's world closed in as his vision was reduced to a single pinpoint of light.

Sam watched in horror as his brother's blonde head slid out of view as the ground beneath him suddenly gave way. "Dean!" He cried without thinking. It only took a moment for him to realize that he hadn't moved yet and that he hadn't heard any movement from inside the hole. Sam scrambled forward and fell to his knees, his head popping over the edge as he called for his brother. The rational part of his brain that knew that Dean couldn't hear him to answer had shut down as soon as Dean had disappeared from view.

The smell that wafted up from the dank dark hole was thick with a mossy earthy overtone. But there was also a decaying smell…the type of smell that only came with death and rotted meat. The sun was starting to set off in the distance and Sam was having a hard time seeing inside the deep crevice. He knew that his brother had to be down there…but his eyes couldn't make out anything more than a darkness that his gaze couldn't penetrate.

"DEAN!" He screamed again. Sam sat up and struggled out of his backpack, throwing it to the ground and digging through it for his large Maglite. The glossy black handle finally finding its way into his searching fingers. He flipped it on and tossed the light over the edge of the hole, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the difference in illumination.

The dust was just starting to settle when he finally saw the unconscious form of his older brother. Dean was lying face down in a muddy deluge of water and rock. His nose seemed to be above the shallow depths, but his body wasn't moving and his leg looked like it was twisted the wrong direction. Which means it's probably broken. Sam thought in rising concern. They needed their father; he couldn't haul his brother's, not insignificant weight, up a rope.

Sam didn't dare take his eyes off Dean for a moment. But he kept trying to figure out how to let his dad know that they'd run into trouble. He was considering calling for help or running back to the front of the trail, when it occurred to him that Wendigo's liked dank dark places…and it appeared as though Dean had literally stumbled onto what would be a perfect hiding place for that particular monster.

A sudden groan of pain had him leaning further over the edge. He watched as Dean shuddered and pulled his body over onto his back. His eyes were closed and a grimace of agony was clearly visible on his face as he settled against the rock and water.

Dean blinked several times before his eyes finally focused on his little brother's panicked face. Sam was leaning over the edge of a hole and he looked terrified as his lips moved at lightning speed…and then the pain hit.

"Ah…shit…shit…" Dean swore as his hands shifted down toward grab his leg. It hurt like a bitch! He wanted to move it into another position, but the blinding pain was making him think that wasn't such a good idea. The light was starting to fade and Dean knew that Sammy needed to go and get their father…quickly. Because there he wasn't going anywhere without the help of his father…and he damn well knew it and as he looked at the unhappy face of his little brother, he knew that Sam knew it too. "Go get dad…Sam." He called out. It wasn't exactly a surprise when his little brother shook his head vehemently. "Sammy, you can't pull me out and I can't climb with my leg like this. You have to go get dad."

*What about you?* Sam signed. It was a simple sentence and one that, thankfully, Dean could understand. Like everything else in their lives, Sam was way ahead of Dean in learning the sign language stuff.

"Send me the lantern, Sam…and go get dad." He didn't want to be in the dark…he could handle being alone, but the dark had scared Dean since he was a little boy. Something about the night his mother had died had created the phobia. He was good at masking it…most of the time. But if he was completely honest with himself, he was scare right now and he hated the fact that Sam was seeing it firsthand. There were a lot of things that Dean was willing to share with Sam…this wasn't one of them.

Moments later a small rope descended into his prison of rock and dirt and the lantern settled gently next to his hip. Dean clenched his teeth and forced himself into a seated position, leaning his back against the root encrusted wall. He looked up and Sam was staring at him with those big blue-green eyes. It was obvious that he was fighting his better judgment as he pulled the rope back up. *I'll hurry.* He signed quickly before his head disappeared from above and Dean was alone.

It's never a good thing to be alone with your thoughts. The complete silence that was now his world put him in that position more often than not. He could think of his favorite songs and the beautiful rumble of his Impala's engine after a tune up. But he couldn't escape the resounding echoes of his own thoughts.

His eyes scanned the small area that the light managed to illuminate and he breathed out slowly. His mind was creating shadows that were making him nervous and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. His gaze shifted the rope that Sammy had sent the lantern own with was still tied to something at the top. He moved and gritted his teeth when pain shot through his leg and up his spine. "Damn-it." He muttered.

Dean reached out and grabbed onto the length and tugged. It didn't budge. He bit at his lower lip and pulled with both hands, his left leg shifting accidentally as he did. "Fuck!" He growled. He settled back against the wall, scrubbing a hand down his face. He was once again in a position that he needed help from his father. I swear, I'm never gonna hear the end of this…oh that's right dad doesn't even talk to me anymore. He thought with regret.

No…I'm gonna get myself out of this. He grabbed the rope and hauled his body up into a standing position. Luckily the rope was a climbing rope and the tensile strength was such that it would hold his weight. If he waited for his father to rescue him…there's no way that John would ever think of him as an equal.

Dean wasn't an idiot, he knew that this was gonna hurt like hell. He balanced on one leg and then reached down removing his belt and placing the leather between his teeth. A sudden movement behind him had him spinning as quickly as his leg would allow to get a better look. He squinted into the darkness and his eyes widened when he saw the eyes of something embedded in the pitch black of the cavern. Dean scrambled for his bag and pulled out his shotgun, he seated a shell and then waited. His breaths coming in rapid pants as his chest heaved.

Great, I'm gonna die in this god forsaken hole and Sammy's gonna come back and find my mangled corpse. Just fucking peachy!

The instantaneous movement had Dean focusing on one point. The eyes were shifting from left to right, which meant that he'd managed to fall right into the den of something that wasn't a fox. Dean blinked and swallowed the fear that was inching its way up out of his stomach.

XXXX

-December 2006-

Sam was waiting impatiently inside the car as Dean hauled out bag after bag and threw them into the back seat. It was almost everything that they kept stored in the trunk and it was now sitting directly behind him. He reached over the seat and grabbed one of the sleeping bags and pulled it open. The longer he sat there the colder he was getting and that meant that his body was starting to go into shock. And that's not a good thing. It was going to give his overly protective big brother one more thing to fuss about…and Dean would fuss about it.

He spread the bag over his large form and settled back against the leather again. The pain was receded somewhat and he was frustrated knowing that they wouldn't be getting out of this mess tonight. He heard the trunk slam shut and then the car dipped as Dean pulled the back door open again. He placed the small kerosene lamp on the floor in the back and then carefully crawled through the small opening, pulling the door closed behind him. Snow swirled into the car in the few moments that it was open and Sam shivered with the change in temperature.

"You okay?" Dean asked worriedly when he noticed that his brother had spread a sleeping bag over himself. He watched carefully as Sam pulled his hands from the warmth of the cover so he could answer.

*Yeah…just a little cold. You okay?* Sam's hands were shaking and Dean narrowed his eyes when he noticed.

"You're not okay, Sam. Let me look at that leg." His brother crawled over the bench seat and sat carefully next him. The positioning inside the car was extremely awkward and since neither of the Winchester's was exactly small…they did the best they could. Sam bit at the inside of his cheek as he reached down and pulled his leg up. The pain that shot up through his hip and into his chest had him gasping for air as Dean gently helped place the leg on his lap.

Sam panted as Dean grabbed the kit and pulled out several rolls of bandages and then shook his head at the protrusion of small white bone just below the knee. The blood was minimal, which was good…but the fact that there was a compound fracture was bad. It meant that Dean couldn't set the bone and he needed to figure out how to get his little brother out of this messed up situation.

Dean's vision blurred in and out suddenly as a flash of pain bolted through his brain and centered near his eyes. He clenched his jaw for a moment and then went back to taking care of Sam's injury. Several minutes later he was tying off the white gauze. He glanced up at Sam and winced at the pained expression. "Sorry." He muttered.

Sam shook his head and reached out to pat Dean on the shoulder. *It's fine, Dean.*

*No it's not…it's the mine all over again.* He watched as his brother's eyes went wide with understanding.

*This is nothing like that damn mine, Dean. Shit happens. We just gotta figure out how to get out of here.* Sam's gaze was unflinching as he stared at his older brother. His hands flying rapidly as he signed his opinion. *I checked the cell phones…nothing. As soon as this storm lets up…you gotta get back up to the road and try to flag someone down.*

It was Dean's turn to balk. *Not if that means leaving you alone.*

*Yes…especially if that means leaving me alone…Dean if you don't.* Sam sighed. "We're both gonna die out here."

"You're not dying on me, Sammy." Dean said in a flat voice that was unlike anything that Sam had ever heard before. It was almost feral in nature and unlike his brother's usually raspy tones.

TBC…

Author's Note: First of all, thank you to everyone that read and reviewed, those I PM'd and those I cannot. The story is just heating up, Dean is gonna have to try and get help and Sam is in no condition to go…but will that keep him inside the safety of the car? And is the car even safe?

Please Review: This is different from how I generally write and I am hopeful that you are enjoying it.