Dog Day Afternoon Ch. 7
Disclaimer: See chapter one
Warning: Please forgive any mistakes as this chapter once again is not beta'ed. _
Previously: How many fingers am I holding up?" John asked, breathing a sigh of relief when Sam answered correctly. "Okay Sport, I think you're going to be fine, but I will be waking you every few hours tonight with the usual questions, just in case.
"Great," Sam grumbled as his father began to rinse the blood away from his scalp while Joshua started pulling items from the first aid kit. He was definitely in for a long night.
Later that night
"How are the boys doing?" Joshua queried softly as he watched John exit the Winchester tent with a look of concern on his face, after having checked on Sam and Dean for the third time that evening.
"Dean's sleeping like a rock after the pain medication you gave him," John answered as he scrubbed a calloused palm through his hair. "As for Sam, I think that concussion may be a little worse than I thought. It took him a few minutes to answer the standard questions I always ask when one of the boys suffer a head injury."
He was probably just disoriented after being woken from a deep sleep and it took him a minute or two to process what you were saying?" Joshua voiced somewhat hopefully. The last thing they needed was to have Sam involved in the hunt it he had sustained more than a slight concussion. Maybe it would be better if they took Sam and Dean back to town in the morning and dealt with the creature on their own.
"I sure hope that's all it is," John replied, with a yawn as he reached out to pick up the tin coffee pot to dump the contents of it over the campfire. "We better get some sleep ourselves. It will be a long day tomorrow."
"Yeah, I am kind of beat myself," Joshua agreed as he pushed himself to his feet, before turning his attention back to John. "You want me to set my watch to wake Sammy up in a couple of hours, so that you can get some sleep?"
"Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll keep that job to myself," John answered as he spread the campfire ashes with his boot to make sure all the embers were out. When it came to his sons, he preferred to take care of them himself as much as possible. Sure, he knew Josh loved the boys, but he was their father and knew what was best when it came to a concussed Sammy.
"Okay, if you're sure, I'll just say goodnight then," Josh voiced as he strode across the dirt ground and over to his own tent to get some shuteye before tomorrow. Of course, once he went into his tent, he set the alarm on his watch to wake him up in about two hours, just in case. No need to inform John of that though. He would just listen to make sure that the stubborn hard-headed Winchester did indeed wake up and check on Sammy. Lord knows he had a soft spot in his heart for the kid, both of them actually.
Treading over to the tent where his boys were currently ensconced, John felt a wave of exhaustion come over him. It had been a long few hours and he felt so bone tired weary. Pushing the flap aside, he glanced at his boys to see both sleeping. Walking over and kneeling between their sleeping bags, he palmed Dean's forehead to check for fever, then sighed in relief when his eldest felt relatively cool to the touch. Hopefully that meant no infection was setting in to the bite wound, but he would check it later and once again in the morning to be sure. Turning his focus onto Sam, he could tell by the furrow in his youngest son's forehead that the boy was not sleeping peacefully.
"Shhh Sammy, it's okay Kiddo," John whispered as he stroked his thumb across the crease in Sam's forehead for just a minute or two.
Smiling as Sam exhaled softly under his ministrations and then relaxed into a more restful sleep, John was grateful that he still had the touch, if only just a little, where his youngest was concerned.
"G'nite boys," John muttered as he lay down in his own sleeping bag, making sure to set his watch to wake him up in two hours.
~~Supernatural~~
Sitting at the edge of the cave as dusk turned to darkness, the Mimick Dog knew it was time to make its' move on the family that had dared to hurt it. With two wounded members, it would make its' job much easier of carrying out the sinister plan it had formed as it rested.
Slinking back into its lair, the wolf dropped down to it haunches and started to howl as its bones began to break and then reknit as its fur began to drop off, skin taking its place, as its body began to elongate into the form of a human. It flexed its paws in pain as human limbs began to form…hands and feet overtaking what used to be paws, its sharp and pointy claws retracting and forming into fingernails. . It whimpered and whined as the transmogrification caused it to lose its sharp canine teeth and human teeth took hold.
Placing the human hands to its head, the Mimick Dog began to keen in pain as memories of its chosen form began to download in its' brain. Ah, how it enjoyed learning the tidbits, even if they did hurt, it would use to first hurt, and then destroy the human pack from within. When it was finished, not one of the humans it would soon hunt would have their sanity remain intact.
Once the transformation and download completed, the Mimick Dog looked through the pile of clothing it had collected over time. Its' appearance had to be perfect if its' plan was to work.
Dressing quickly with the chosen clothing, the shape shifting creature grinned in satisfaction as it pulled on some boots to protect the now human feet and then left the cave, intent on making it to the campsite as soon as possible. Of course, it would hide and watch until it was sure most of the humans were deep within the throes of sleep, and then it would strike with permanent consequences.
Making its way quietly through the woods, it wished it could still have the speed of its wolf form. The human way of travel was such a waste and took much too long for its liking. It would never understand why the humans took such enjoyment out of walking, what stupid creatures they were.
Approaching the camp approximately an hour later, the wolf watched as the elder one with the slightly graying hair poured a putrid liquid over the campfire and doused the flames. 'Good, it will make things much easier' it thought with a wicked silverfish gleam in its eye.
Watching as both men entered their small lairs made of canvas, the shifter took note of the one that held its' chosen prey. It could sense pain from inside and its keen eyesight could just make out the shadowy shape of the protective one bending over his cubs and trying to soothe that pain away. "If only the stupid human knew…" it whispered with bated breath as it sat down to watch and wait, to give the protective one time give in to slumber.
~~Supernatural~~
Waking up approximately an hour or so later, Sam placed his left hand to his aching head as he tried to figure out what had woken him up. He thought he heard Dean calling out to him, but that couldn't be right since his big brother was definitely asleep from the way he was snoring. Rolling over in an attempt to go back to sleep himself, Sam suddenly found himself assaulted by nausea. Knowing that his brother and father wouldn't want to sleep with the stench of vomit in the tent, Sam quietly crawled over towards the flap and made his way out into the moonless night.
"Damn, it's dark out here," he thought to himself as he tried to remember what he was doing. The lack of moonlight to shine down was leaving him a bit disoriented and it was starting to freak him out a little as he tried to figure out which way to go.
Crawling over towards what he hoped was the edge of the campsite, he nearly whimpered as his stomach seized with the urge to throw up. Swallowing heavily, he tried to thwart the need. He hated throwing up worse than anything. Hearing the sound of something or someone approaching, he looked up to see a shadow approaching and he hissed in a stuttered breath.
"Hey Kiddo, relax, it's just me. Are you okay?" Dean asked softly as he knelt down and began to rub circles on his brother's back.
"Dean, where…? I just left you in the tent asleep," Sam voiced with a whine as he wrapped his arms around his stomach as he began to dry heave. Damn, but he wished the bile would just quickly make its' way up and out. He was in pure agony.
"Yeah, well, I heard you wake up," Dean stated quickly. "So I thought I better come see what was wrong. You know I can't leave you alone out here in the dark."
"I'm not a baby," Sam rejoined petulantly.
"I know that. Come on, Kid, Let me take you down to the riverbank. You'll feel better when I can wrap a wet cloth, my tee-shirt, around your neck," Dean countered.
"But its dark out, Dad will be pissed," Sam moaned, trying to shake the cobwebs from his head. He felt so damn woozy and was finding it hard to think straight.
"Who gives a crap? Let him be pissed," Dean retorted with a whisper as he helped Sam to his feet. "You're what is important here, not Dad."
"But what about the… uh, the Mim…shapeshifting do-og?" Sam queried as he felt Dean wrap an arm around his shoulder and start leading him away.
"It's probably hiding somewhere licking its' wounds after Dad shot it," Dean answered. "Now come on."
"Yeah, 'Kay," Sam replied as he let his sibling lead him away from the tent, wondering why his brother's tone sounded slightly off when he talked about the Supernatural creature, Maybe it was just the pounding in his head that caused his brother to sound off kilter.
Or was it?
TBC Sorry I didn't do a better job of answering reviews with the last chapter. Please know that I enjoy reading each and every one and will do better this chapter. As always, thanks so much for taking the time to read and review. It truly does mean a lot to us writers!