Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or the characters …

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Obstruction

Chapter 7

Bobby looked at the tree, silently assessing their options. He had to agree with Dean. Sam was now out of the hunt, and they'd have to tackle this one on their own, at the same time protecting Sam. Looking back at the fallen Winchester, he could see Sam watching them through slightly glazed eyes.

He was hesitant to agree with Dean, but knew that chopping down the tree would take too long with just one person wielding the axe, so fire seemed to be their only option. It was going to be tricky though, setting a fire in the dry forest without starting a major blaze.

Dean shifted through his pack, removing a large serrated hunting knife. Picking up Sam's discarded axe, he took the few steps back to his brother's side. He rested the axe handle along Sam's thigh, within easy reach, and placed the knife in his brother's hand, making sure he had a firm grip.

"Just in case…" he softly stated before returning to his backpack.

Next he removed the tin of lighter fluid and box of matches. He also felt his pocket for the lighter he always kept there. He looked at Bobby and saw him armed with his own axe, pistol tucked into the back of his jeans and hunting knife sheathed by his waist. Bobby looked like he meant action.

"You ready?" Dean asked unnecessarily.

"Yeah, let's do this."

Dean cautiously approach the tree, Bobby a few steps behind keeping a keen watch. Dean stopped a foot short of the tree, and glanced around, uneasy at having got this far without sighting the Dryad. It seemed too easy, and he knew from experience that there was no such thing as 'too easy', automatically raising his level of alert. He somehow always felt more comfortable with his foe in sight.

He spared a quick glance at Bobby before unscrewing the cap to the tin of lighter fluid. He walked around the tree, splashing the fluid liberally along the tree truck as he circled.

"Bobby …anything?"

"Nah, nothing."

Having completed his circumference of the tree, Dean dropped the near empty tin of lighter fluid to the ground. The sound echoed around them for a moment, before everything was eerily still and silent. No rustling in the undergrowth, no birds chirping in the branches above, no breeze. Just silence.

Dean reached into his jeans pocket for the box of matches. He was readying to strike the first match when he felt the sharp burst of wind push past him, forcing him to drop the unlit match and take a step back.

"Dean" Bobby yelled at him, a fraction too late.

Dean looked up in time to see the waif like creature push him forcefully backwards again, causing him to stumble as he attempted to regain his balance. The Dryad was coming at him again just as Bobby moved quickly into the space between them, confronting the Dryad with the axe.

Swinging the axe wildly, Bobby moved aggressively in the Dryad's direction, giving Dean the opportunity to regain his balance and move out of the way.

Dean moved towards the tree, box of matches in hand.

Before he had the chance to strike the next match, again the wind whipped through the area, rustling up the fallen leaves on the ground and shaking the branches of the surrounding trees. Dean struck the match, but it blew out instantly. He tried again, repeatedly, with the same result. "Dammit" he muttered, tossing the box of matches to the ground and reaching into his pocket for the coveted lighter. He retrieved it, just in time to see Bobby sailing through the air to land with a definitive thump a few feet from Sam. "God dammit" he thought again, as Bobby lay unmoving and the Dryad moved steadily towards his position. He pulled the knife from his belt and held it in front of himself defensively.

Sam dragged himself over to Bobby's side while maintaining a watch over Dean. Feeling Bobby's steady pulse with relief and blinking eyes, Sam hoped that the older man had just had the wind knocked out of him.

Moving around the tree, Dean tried to keep the trunk between himself and the Dryad. Desperately, with the knife grasped firmly in one hand and the lighter in the other, he flicked the lighter, trying to maintain a flame. Each time, the wind blew it out. Realizing that his only option was to drop the knife to shield the flame, he reluctantly sheathed his weapon.

It was the opportunity the Dryad had been waiting for. That split second when he looked down to sheath his knife was all it too. Just that fraction of a moment when his attention strayed from his opponent.

"Dean, look out" Sam yelled, seeing the Dryad now approaching Dean at speed.

Dean saw the Dryad in front of him, but couldn't react fast enough to move out of the way. He felt his body being lifted with unnatural strength before being tossed aside. Dean hit the nearby tree with force, his body slumping down to land at its base. He looked up to see the Dryad coming for him again, and he tried to shrink back against the tree trunk. Realizing he'd dropped the lighter sometime during his flight through the air, he reached instead for his knife, holding it in front of himself protectively and he slowly rose to his feet, back against the tree.

"Yeah bitch, bring it on," he muttered as the creature steadily approached.

Sam watched in horror as the Dryad moved purposefully towards Dean. Shaking Bobby rigorously, he was unable to fully rouse the older man. Seeing no alternative, he abandoned the knife and axe and used his hands to push himself to his feet. Ignoring his wavering vision, he moved in a staggering fashion towards the fuel doused tree, eyes keenly searching for the discarded box of matches. It was luck, and nothing else, that he staggered and fell a foot short of the tree, the box of matches on the ground in front of him. Lying prone on the forest floor, he cupped his hand around the matchbox as he struck a match. Knowing that he didn't have time for a second chance, he used the lit match to light the other matches in the box, before reaching out and tossing the entire box the short distance to the tree trunk.

Heat infused his face as the tree trunk lit up with a whoosh. He rolled away, trying to put a little distance between himself and the flames. Raising his face, he desperately sought out his brother, panicked as he looked at the now empty space where he had last seen Dean.

Desperation drove him as he climbed unsteadily to his feet, again. Aiming towards Deans last position, he staggered away from the burning tree, narrowly avoiding the charred and smoking branch that smashed to the ground next to him. He only managed a few steps before he was forced to bend over, clutching his side and struggling to draw in air. The smoke seemed overly thick as it surrounded him, his vision blurred and lungs burned as he became completely disorientated. He turned, swaying, no longer sure in which direction to move. Taking a small step away from the burning tree, he stumbled, and saw the ground rushing towards him as collapsed.

"Sam" Dean yelled, rushing towards his swaying brother, reaching him just as he crashed towards the rough ground. Grabbing his brother's shirt, he just managed to slow his descent, lowering him the final few feet to the ground.

"Dean …you're okay?" Sam asked, stubbornly holding on to consciousness.

"Yeah …can you get up …I need to check on Bobby." Dean grabbed the front of Sam's shirt tightly, not waiting for a reply. He couldn't leave his brother here, so close to the burning tree. The Dryad might be destroyed, but the fire was still burning. Pulling his brother up took all of his strength, and Dean quickly wrapped Sam's arm over his shoulder as soon as he was upright, not wanting him to take another nosedive. Hooking his other hand in the waistband at the back of Sam's jeans for extra support, Dean was careful not to touch his injured side. He moved forward, dragging Sam along with him.

Bobby pulled himself up to a sitting position as the Winchester boys approached, burning tree in the background. He knew they needed to make their way out of the forest without delay, in case the fire spread to the surrounding trees.

Sam and Dean dropped wearily to the ground beside Bobby, pleased to see him awake and alert.

"You okay?" Dean asked with concern.

"Not the first time I've been tossed around and won't be the last. ...takes more than that to keep me down."

"Ah Dean, what ...what happened …I saw it coming towards you…" Sam asked quietly, still trying to catch his breath.

"Yeah, soon as you lit up that tree, it burst into flames …ah, thanks for that Sam."

"Looked like you needed a little help."

"Yeah well, next time I order you to stay put, you better stay …"

"Order me?" Sam spluttered indignantly. "I saved your arse."

"I had a plan …I was just waiting …getting the timing right."

"Yeah right, you… you…." Sam stopped arguing, suddenly overcome with a fit of coughing. Sam held his injured side tightly as each racking cough caused pain to radiate through the length of his body.

Dean thumped his back gently trying to help him regain his breath.

Bobby handed him a bottle of water and he took it greedily, taking a few quick gulps, slowly bringing his breathing under control.

"Think its time to head out." Bobby stated, not one to waste words. Rising, pack already in hand, he looked pointedly at the flaming tree and waited for the brothers to spur into action.

Dean got to his feet, reaching down to offer a hand to his brother. Although reluctant to move, Sam took the offered assistance, rising slowly to his own feet. He stood still for a moment as Dean held his arm firmly, offering support if needed. Relieved that his legs were holding him steady, he slowly raised his head, looking directly into Dean's concerned eyes.

"I'm right," he said with all the conviction he could muster, dropping his arm from Dean's firm grasp.

Leaving his brother, Dean collected both their packs, electing to leave the axes behind. They could be easily replaced and none of them were up to carrying the extra weight. Swinging a pack over each shoulder, Dean joined his brother, as they headed out of the forest following Bobby. Bobby always had a great sense of direction, and Dean had no hesitation in following the seasoned hunter through the dense undergrowth.

Walking at his brother's side, Sam held his hand out to Dean, moving to grab his pack off his shoulder.

"Nah, I got it Sammy."

"Dean, I can carry my own pack."

"Yeah well, just concentrate on walking. I'm happy to carry your pack, but man, I don't wanna haul your heavy arse out of here as well."

"Whatever." Sam replied, too tired to continue the pointless argument. He did as Dean suggested, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other.

Concentrated on keeping up.

Concentrated on breathing.

Concentrated on staying conscious, even as his vision blurred at the edges.

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