Thank you for your continuing support for this story. And don't worry, it is not over yet - not anywhere yet actually, lol! And a special note to a reviewer who mentioned my use of 'good' where is should have been 'well'. Yup, I know what is grammatically correct, however people do not always think grammatically correct and it was Dean musing. So I purposefully used 'good'. I do that sometimes but thanks for keeping me on my toes. In the future though, can you please sign in to make comments like that so I can reply more personally:)
Close Encounters
From the previous chapter:
Dean smirked, clearly pleased that Sam had the strength to bitch. "Don't blame me," he retorted and then indicated Frank who was similarly crouched down assessing his own brother. Joe groaned slightly as his sternum was rubbed. "But Frankie there had to get his hair done first."
Frank just shook his head.
Sam had something smart to say in the dark haired Hardy's defense, but before he could get a single word out, his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out.
Chapter 7
For an instant when Joe awoke he thought he was in some nightmare version of his life. His head was hurting, he was cold, heavy rain smacked him in the face and the person looming over him, close enough to kiss, was definitely not Lucy Lawless.
And the smell—
"Ugh," he groaned, pushing his brother away, "I'm 'kay."
"Yeah, you sound like it," Frank groused, his dark hair plastered unflatteringly against his forehead. He reached up to push it out of his eyes and it was hard to miss the genuine concern burning in his dark eyes. "What hurts?"
"How 'bout, my pride—?" the blond teen asked as he slowly sat up, grimacing as the wet ground pressed against his already soggy bottom. "For starters…" His hand went to the back of his head, gently massaging at a tender spot.
"What happened?" Frank asked, his eyes glancing towards a still unconscious Sam and then back at Joe.
"Well," Joe fixed him with a lop-sided grin, "I found Sam."
Beside them, Dean chuckled but kept his head down as he ran his hands lightly over his brother's prone body, assessing for injury.
"State the obvious," Frank grumbled and then spoke up. "I mean what happened just now? Or did consciousness just no longer agree with you?"
Joe looked at his brother oddly for a moment as he realized he really had no idea what had happened. One minute he was helping Sam – Sam! Quickly he turned towards Dean, his blue eyes clouded with concern. "Is he okay?"
Dean glanced up and gave a curt nod. "I think so." He frowned when he ran his hands across Sam's ribs and the younger boy moaned lightly and curled away from him. "He's gonna hurt in the morning though."
"Uh…hello," Frank interjected regaining his brother's attention before he repeated. "What happened?"
Joe shrugged and started to stand, thankful when Frank moved with him and then grabbed an arm to keep him steady, when the blond teen wavered slightly. Man his head hurt. "I don't know, Frank. One minute we were just here and then next – whammo! Lights out time for Joe."
The dark-haired teen turned a wary eye on the younger Winchester. He lowered his voice, "Did—" he glanced at Joe and then back towards Sam, "Did Sam hit you or something?"
"Excuse me?" The icy tone in Dean's voice as he straightened up and glared directly at Frank told the Hardys he had overheard. Joe made a mental note, for future reference, that Dean had very good hearing…. "Just what exactly are you insinuating? My brother doesn't just 'hit' people – now me—" he rolled his shoulders and then cricked his neck. His hazel eyes locked onto the two boys and his tone dropped to a warning growl. "I'm something entirely different."
"Whoa!" Joe burst in, sensing his brother tense; the last thing they needed right now was trouble. "Take it easy – the both of you!" He looked pointedly at Frank, easily recognizing an overprotective big brother in Dean, if there ever was one – it actually, eerily enough, reminded him of his own sibling... "Sam didn't hit me! No one hit me…" Joe paused and then added, a thoughtful look on his face. "Not that I saw, anyway – speaking of which, what'd you guys see when you got here?"
"Not much, thanks to Rambo there," Frank admitted. "He heard Sam yell and took off like a bat out of hell. I hit the top of the ridge after he fired…" the dark haired teen scowled as he faced the hunter. "Speaking of which – what were you shooting at?"
An unreadable look passed Dean's face and then he shrugged and dropped down beside his brother again. "Nothing – just letting Sammy know we were here. Now c'mon, enough jawing…my brother needs a warm bed and a half a bottle of aspirin. And I don't know about you boys, but I've had just about enough of freakin' Mother Nature for one night."
Joe nodded in agreement and then looked up at the now muddy slope. He could make out where his brother and Dean had – from the looks of it – mostly slid down. "How do you want to do this?" he deferred to Dean, as it was his younger brother who needed the most help. He didn't like that Sam was still out cold and it egged up his concussion concern. "Should we even be moving him, though? Not that we can stay here," he added as he glanced warily down the gully.
Dean followed his eyes. "What?"
"This ravine is subject to flooding," Frank explained, obviously reading his brother's uneasy look.
"Okay then," the older Winchester decided. "That answers the 'should we be moving him' question…. " He turned his attention back to the slick slope. "Is there maybe an easier place to climb up? I can carry Sam…but not up that."
Having only turned sixteen a few months ago, Sam was still more gangly than muscular, and while Dean was sure he could manage him in a fireman's carry, he wasn't so confident of his footing going up the way he had come down.
"Ummm…" Joe really didn't know. He'd never been down here before – he just knew it was here. And between the darkness and the rain, it was hard to see anything. Reaching down to grab the flashlight that he'd dropped when whatever happened, happened, he admitted with a shrug. "I don't know…Frank?" He turned to his brother for any ideas.
Frank hedged, "We can look, I guess but—" he shrugged too, and Dean rolled his eyes.
"Wonderful," he griped, "absolutely freakin' wonderful."
Stooping down, he carefully hauled his unresponsive sibling over his muscular shoulders and slowly stood up. Once he was sure that Sam was secure, he nodded to the other two boys. "Okay, Rick and A.J, led the way."
Frank and Joe looked at him. "Who?"
Dean rolled his eyes, "Simon and Simon? An 80's TV detective show?" He snorted and started to walk ahead of them, his flashlight picking out a trail in the storm. "You guys really got to get out more…"
Joe flashed Frank a grin and ran to catch up with Dean. "So who'd I be? Rick or AJ?"
…
Frank shook his head and followed behind them, walking just a little bit slower and wondering at his naiveté mere hours earlier, when he thought his biggest problem in the world was being covered in cow poop. "Someone—" he muttered, shivering and pulling his soaked coat more tightly around his body and crinkling his nose at the pungent smell of manure, "shoot me now…"
Next chapter: Wednesday - and lookie! No cliffie!! Man, I think I'm losing my touch!!
