Author's Note: Nope, wasn't a mistake on my part- you get two chapters this week as an apology for last week's chapter being late. The next chapter should go up a few minutes after this one. 3
Sam and Meg were gathering a few extra boxes of ammunition when the lights in the shed suddenly turned off, like someone just flipped the light switch. The only light left was the dim early morning sunlight streaming in through the open door, enough light to work by, but just barely.
"Must be trying the shutdown," Meg said, watching the bare light bulb over their heads- but it didn't come back on. The seconds ticked away, and she scoffed and grabbed another box of bullets.
"Maybe she just has to reboot some things from the computer," Sam said, though he somehow knew that wouldn't be their luck; that they would be stuck on island with roaming dinosaurs and no power. It seemed to fit with how the rest of their day had been.
He was just following Meg back onto the path when his radio crackled to life, and he stopped to reach down and grab it off his belt just as Gabriel's voice came through. "Sam, you there?" the voice said, though it almost didn't sound like Gabriel. There was none of that innate humor that his voice usually seemed to hold.
"Yeah, I'm here. What happened?" he replied, meeting Meg's gaze; she was watching him expectantly, waiting for the news, her hair hanging heavy and damp in the humid air.
"The shutdown worked. Kinda."
"…What do you mean, 'kinda'? The lights are still out over here."
"Well, that's what I mean by 'kinda'," Gabriel said with a nervous laugh. "We're back on factory settings, but the shutdown tripped the breakers. Everything will have to be switched on manually from the maintenance shed."
Meg cursed and shook her head. "Like a fuckin' Saw movie in this place," she muttered, and Sam couldn't help but feel like she was right. Every time they seemed to take a step forward, there was another hurdle to overcome. A hurdle that probably involved teeth and claws.
"Where's the maintenance shed? I'll take a Jeep and go do it," he said, his heart beating faster at the thought of being out here even longer than he already had been. Their chances of survival got less and less the longer they stayed out here in the dinosaur's territory. In the buildings they had the advantage, with heavy doors and stairs that the dinosaurs wouldn't know how to contend with quickly.
Out here, they were in the dinosaurs' element.
"Don't go alone. Take Meg and Bobby," Gabriel said in a rush, and Sam heard Charlie in the background; he couldn't make out what she was saying, but she sounded pissed, whatever it was. Gabriel appeased her with a muffled 'alright, alright' before his voice became clear again. "Yeah, all three of you go, and have the weapons handy. The, uh…the raptor fences got knocked offline from the shutdown."
Sam's heart dropped to somewhere in his feet, and his grip loosened on the radio, almost dropping it completely. He remembered the first day they'd been here, watching the cow get torn apart by massive claws and curved teeth, the deadly focus the raptors had when blood spilled on the ground. It was something you didn't forget. And judging by how Meg just went pale, she was well aware of the new stakes now, too.
"Sam? Sam, you there?" Gabriel was saying when Sam finally managed to swallow past the painful lump in his throat, and he shook his head as if to snap himself out of it. The raptors could already be out; they didn't have time to stand around and worry. They needed to move.
"Yeah, I'm here. We're going. I'll radio you when we get there," he said, already moving, Meg not far behind as he headed down the path toward Bobby. Bobby was still manning the halfway point, gun at the ready, and his frown deepened when he saw Meg and Sam approach.
"Well, don't you two just look like Christmas morning," he said dryly, and Sam wished he could have laughed.
"The raptor fences are down. Everything's down," he explained breathlessly, nodding toward the Jeeps. "We need to go. The shutdown tripped the breakers; we have to get to the maintenance shed and start up everything manually."
The words that came out of Bobby's mouth wouldn't even be appropriate for a trench full of hardened Marines. His demeanor changed completely as his eyes swept through the trees, and Sam hoped to God that this man was just as good of a hunter as he seemed to be.
"Let's go. Load those up and get in, I'll cover you," he said, and Sam didn't hesitate to jog past him, going to the open back of the first Jeep. He slid the boxes of ammunition in and shut the door, ignoring the trembling of his hands as he tried to move quickly- but his mind kept going back to just how quickly raptors appeared out of the foliage once their prey was in sight. And that wasn't even prey that they had to be sneaking around for- it was trapped.
Later he may have written it all off as extreme paranoia, but unfortunately, his concerns were validated the moment he started walking toward the other truck to help Meg get her supplies put away.
"On your six!" Bobby suddenly shouted, and the gunshot and the angry screech that followed were loud enough to leave Sam's ears ringing; it took him a few moments to comprehend the words, to realize what was happening, and by then Meg was stepping past him with a rifle at her hip. He turned and took a step back when he saw the raptor, the animal having stumbled into the side of the Jeep. It was struggling to right itself, blood streaking down scaled skin from a wound to its side.
It was hard to really realize how big the raptors were until you were on equal footing with them. Sam wasn't a small man by any means, but the raptor easily towered over his six foot frame; it was at least eight feet tall. Meg fired off another shot that struck the raptor's chest, and the animal stumbled again, its eyes focusing in on the petite woman with ruthless intent.
"Meg!" Sam yelled, grabbing her by the back of her shirt and yanking her back just as the injured raptor lurched forward. It sent them both staggering to the ground, but it had the intended effect- the raptor's jaws caught the end of her rifle instead of her, and the gun was torn from her grasp. Another gunshot went off from Bobby's direction, and the raptor fell against the Jeep again, this time wailing weakly but not able to get back to its feet.
Sam helped Meg up, and she dusted herself off as they turned toward Bobby- but both of them froze when they saw the crouching raptor behind the hunter. Meg was the first to move, yelling out a warning even as she rushed forward to knock Bobby out of its path- and the raptor's jaws closed on her midsection, tearing a gurgling scream from her throat.
Sam could have sworn his heart just stopped entirely. It felt like lead in his chest, solid and heavy.
He fumbled for his rifle as Bobby recovered and started firing, but by the time Sam started shooting, the creature had Meg pinned down with one massive clawed foot. Despite the animal's thick hide, even it couldn't stand up against bullets for that long- Sam's and Bobby's rifles were emptied of bullets by the time the raptor limped away from her, and then fell.
Bobby didn't waste any time before running back to the Jeep to grab more weapons, and Sam rushed to Meg's side, kneeling in the blood soaked dirt next to her.
It didn't take more than a glance and the unbearable, sour stench of blood in the air to know that anything they did would be useless- he hadn't even known blood had a smell, not till now when it was so thick in the air, nearly choking him. Meg was clutching at her stomach, but it was split open straight across with almost surgical precision- just like they'd spilled the guts of the cow, he tried not to think- and her hands were covered in shiny red blood as she desperately tried to hold the slick loops of intestine inside her body. But there was nothing left to hold them, the skin torn away, and he nearly gagged as he looked up to her face instead.
"Don't think…the c-company health plan covers this," she choked out, her teeth and lips stained red, her eyes struggling to focus as she managed to smile up at Sam. He pressed his hand to her forehead, his throat tight and his eyes burning as he tried to pull himself together. She was dying, and he couldn't do anything.
"Hey, don't worry, we'll…we'll get you back to the center, and…" he started, the words trailing off as she gave a half laugh that almost had a wet sound to it.
"Don't bullshit me," she muttered as Bobby came to her side. His expression was little more than a deeper frown than usual; he'd seen this before, Sam knew. The raptor made a low whine where it lay yards away as it kicked feebly, and Meg dropped her head to the side to look at it.
"Bobby…give me a gun," she said, her voice weak and breaking, and Bobby didn't question her. He tugged a handgun from his belt, and she held out her hand for it, her skin still soaked in blood nearly to the elbows. He calmly used his sleeve to wipe some of the blood off her palm, and then he curled her hand around the gun silently, making sure she could actually grip it before he let go entirely.
She let her arm fall to the side, her elbow touching the ground as she aimed the gun right at the raptor's head. Her hand was shaking so badly, though, that she couldn't keep aim, and Sam reached over and wrapped one of his hands around hers on the gun, holding her steady.
He wouldn't begrudge her a final act of revenge, if that was what she wanted.
The gun went off, and the raptor's head jerked to the side; it twitched a few times, and then went still. The only sound now was Meg's ragged breathing, each breath wet and loud as she let go of the gun and looked back up at Sam with a quickly fading smirk.
"G-Give 'em hell for me, boys," she said, every word a struggle as Sam stroked her hair gently, not bothering to hold back the tears now. One more breath, two, then the jungle was silent around them again, save for the steady drone of insects; her eyes went unfocused and distant, losing that spark of defiance that she'd always had every moment he'd known her.
"We gotta go, boy. There'll be more of those things," Bobby said after only a few moments of silence, and Sam looked up to find the man holding out a loaded rifle to him. He looked down at Meg's still form one last time before he stood and took the gun almost numbly from Bobby's hand. The sudden flood of anger that hit him was almost enough to make him physically flinch- anger at these damn animals, and anger at Gabriel. Gabriel, who'd invited them into a bloodbath. Who had acted like nothing could go wrong on his watch.
Sam was fumbling for the radio on his belt before he even thought about it, and Bobby grabbed his blood-stained hand and took the radio from him, giving Sam a pointed look, as if he knew exactly what he was thinking- and telling Sam without words that now was not the time.
"Gabe," Bobby said into the radio, and it was a few long moments before the radio crackled to life in return.
"Bobby? You at the maintenance shed?"
"Ain't left yet," Bobby said as he started walking back toward the front Jeep and motioning for Sam to get in the passenger side. Sam paused for a moment, having been ready to follow in the other Jeep, but then he realized that Bobby probably wanted them to stick as close together as possible till they got back to safety.
Sam didn't know if an eight foot tall raptor could stop a Jeep, but he didn't want to find out alone, either.
He got in just as Bobby was turning the Jeep on and filling Gabriel in. "We got ambushed, two raptors. Meg's dead," the man explained, and the pause on the other end of the radio was so long that he was halfway through raising it to speak again when an answer finally came through.
"She's dead? You…are you sure?"
Bobby rolled his eyes, pushing the gas pedal so hard that the tires spun in the dirt as the Jeep lurched to life. "One of your god damn science experiments spilled her guts on the ground, I'm pretty fuckin' sure, Gabe," he snapped, and then he shoved the radio back at Sam, who took it and stared at it for a few long moments. The vicious anger in him was ebbing away, leaving him drained and exhausted, his sight lingering on the quickly stiffening, drying blood on his hands.
The radio remained silent, and Sam wasn't surprised in the least. Maybe what Bobby said had been out of line, because even if the raptors were here because of Gabriel, Meg had still been Gabriel's friend; but right now, Sam couldn't bring himself to care about the possibility of hurting Gabriel's feelings.
Not when he was imagining watching Dean bleed out like that instead of Meg, and not being able to do a damn thing about it.
"Ruby had cameras set up on every inch of this island," Bobby said, finally breaking the heavy silence in the vehicle. "Once we get the power turned back on, we can use the cameras to find your brother and the others. Dependin' on where they are, we might be able to grab some guns and go pick them up."
Sam swallowed hard, wondering if instead they would find what was left of them; he pushed that thought down, boxed it in tight, and locked it away. "Thanks, Bobby," he murmured, gaze locked on the trees by the road, waiting to see any signs of the other raptors.
Bobby scoffed. "Don't thank me. Charlie woulda offered it even if I hadn't."
It wasn't far to the maintenance shed, and thankfully, there was a shorter path through the trees to this one than there had been at the armory shed. Both of them had their guns held ready when they got out, but the jungle was still and quiet around them, the sun finally beginning to break through the trees and give them the slight advantage of light. Aside from the snapped branches and the puddles, it was as if the storm had never happened.
"Let's go," Bobby said, moving at a brisk walk to the shed door and luckily finding it unlocked. Sam followed him inside the dark room and pulled the door tightly shut behind them, and Bobby fished two small flashlights out of the large pockets on his khaki pants. He tossed one to Sam, and with both switched on, Sam found that this wasn't really a room- more of a platform that led down the stairs into pitch black.
They were silent as they moved down the stairs to a metal catwalk, suspended a few feet over pipes and wiring that ran both below and above the path.
They both jumped when the radio hissed to life again, but this time, it was Charlie's voice on the other end. "Hey, guys…?"
Sam lifted the radio, nearly sighing with relief; Gabriel was the last person he wanted to speak to right now. "We're here, Charlie."
"There's something in the hallway up here. We're staying out of sight of the windows," she said, and Sam remembered the large windows taking up a good chunk of the wall between the control room and the hallways. And what was out there was probably a raptor- and even safety glass wouldn't hold up long to that much muscle and claw.
"Is there another exit? You can't stay there," he said, sharing a glance with Bobby. "That glass won't hold up, Charlie."
"Yeah, there's…there's a back door. We'll try to get to it without being seen," Charlie said, her voice impressively steady for someone who was talking about trying to sneak away from a dinosaur. "I'll call you when we get somewhere safer."
Sam took a deep breath. "Right. Be careful. I won't radio you until I know you're safe, okay?" he said, not wanting to start talking in the radio at a time that would draw a raptor right to Gabriel and Charlie. Charlie answered in the affirmative, and the radio went silent again.
"Back door should end up taking them out near the kitchen," Bobby said, opening a chain link door to a small room at the end of the path. "Alright, keep watch. This'll only take a second."
Sam frowned, but turned back to watch the way they'd come, anyway. "I shut the door on the way in. They can't follow. Not unless they've figured out how to open doors," he pointed out with a nervous laugh, but Bobby didn't answer, instead opting to get to work opening the panels that lined the wall.
Somehow, his silence to that wasn't very reassuring.
He watched the empty catwalk, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Bobby flipping switches and pumping levers multiple times, probably working up a charge; he was glad that someone here knew what they were doing, because he would have been at a loss, staring at all those controls.
"Alright…here goes nothin'," Bobby said, moving to a large bank of controls that had a lever on one end, a button on the other, and a label in between each. There had to be thirty rows of them going all the way down, and the first few listed were 'Visitors Center', 'Dock', and 'Tyrannosaur Paddock', all the way down to the last one, 'Perimeter Fence'. Evidently this would turn each system on, one by one.
And sure enough, when he flipped the switch and pressed the button a few rows from the top, the lights finally flickered and began to come back on, lighting up the stark grey surfaces around them. They finally had power again, and that meant that once he got back, they had to get to the control room and get those damn cameras running.
"Back in business," Bobby said, pressing the last button. The whole control panel was lit up like a Christmas tree now, red, green, and yellow lights all activated, some blinking. Sam had no idea what most of it meant, other than that all the location buttons were now lit up green; it was good enough for him. He led the way back onto the catwalk, but after only a few feet Bobby grabbed his shoulder, pulling him to a stop and shushing him.
"Listen," he said softly, and Sam held his breath, at first only hearing the hum of the machinery around them. Then he heard it- a rhythmic tapping noise, an irregular clicking that didn't sound anything like the pipes or consoles.
The radio hissed over it, and Charlie's voice came through. "Sam, we've barricaded ourselves in the freezer, but I don't know how long the door can hold. They can open the doors, Sam," her panicked voice said, and the realization set in just about the time a dark shape came crashing down from the piping hanging from the ceiling.
Sam went down hard and his teeth slammed together painfully as his head hit the metal floor. A pain shot through his arm as he shoved at the thing on top of him, then Bobby was there, slamming the butt of his rifle down on the raptor's head over and over till it screeched and stumbled back. Sam crawled toward Bobby and used the railing to struggle to his feet, dizzy and feeling nauseous, and trying not to think about the feeling of something slick and warm dripping down his right arm.
He was still clinging to the railing to stay on his feet when Bobby fired a shot, and the sound reverberated painfully through the space. The raptor, a slightly smaller one than the others, hissed and leaped, and Bobby stepped to the side just in time to leave the raptor landing hard right at the chain link door to the control room. Bobby gave the fallen raptor a kick and a shove with his boot, and then slammed the chain link door shut behind it, sliding his rifle in the handles to try and slow the raptor down. It hissed and clawed at the chain link, which was already starting to pull loose, but by then Bobby was grabbing Sam's good arm and dragging him toward the exit at a run.
Sam ignored the fierce ache in the back of his head and the sharp pain in his arm, focusing on getting to the exit as quickly as his feet would carry him, ready every step to feel something hit him from behind and dig its claws into his spine. It didn't happen, though, and they burst out into the sunlight, Bobby slamming the door shut behind them. It wouldn't keep the raptor in once it was free of that room, but every little bit helped in slowing them down.
But they may have been safer inside. There was one raptor on the hood of the Jeep, its head now swiveled to focus its eyes on them, and another stood near the Jeep, flexing its claws as if preparing to leap. Bobby wrenched Sam's gun away from him and fired two shots, hitting one and missing the other as he ran to the back of the Jeep and wrenched it open.
"You go on ahead, take the Jeep. We can't lead more raptors back to the only safe space we got. One's enough in there. I'll stay here and keep 'em from followin' the Jeep, I can pick 'em off," he said, tossing Sam a gun and firing off another round at the raptor that had been edging closer. The other jumped off the hood with a growl, landing hard in the dirt.
"What? No, I'm not leaving-"
"Did that sound like a request, boy?" Bobby snapped, throwing the key to the Jeep at Sam, and Sam fumbled to catch it. "Go. I'll take care of these three and meet you guys back at the center."
Three? Sam thought, but then he caught sight of it, a third raptor that had just edged out of the trees. And there might be more among the trees, too. If they both got in and drove to the center, there was no telling how many raptors they would be dragging in tow.
Bobby was offering to be the bait to keep them here and probably die in the process; they both knew there would be no 'catching up at the center'. He'd strapped at least five guns to himself, but that would be nowhere near enough to fend off nine foot tall dinosaurs all the way back to the center on foot.
"Go, damnit!" Bobby yelled, shoving Sam toward the driver's side door and firing off a shot at the raptor at the front of the Jeep. It reeled at the hit and then ran for Bobby, taking three more bullets before it fell in the dirt- and even then, it was struggling to get up, hissing and snapping.
Sam yanked the door open, got in, and pushed the pedal to the floor. He silently cursed Gabriel again, this time for not having vehicles that were strong enough to ram the raptors- even the one on the hood had left deep dents in the metal with its weight alone.
His last glance in the rearview mirror was of Bobby firing on one advancing raptor, then turning to shoot at the other that was trying to circle around behind him. Their attention was definitely on the lone human, and not the retreating Jeep, which is exactly what Bobby had predicted. Sam clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on the wheel, telling himself that there was a chance that Bobby might actually make it back. He was a hunter, he was smart. He could do this.
It didn't feel any better to lie to himself.
Charlie's voice crackled from the radio again. "Sam, the door isn't going to hold much longer!" she said, and he pulled the radio off his belt, moving with new determination despite the pain.
"Hang in there, Charlie, I'm almost back. Just hold it off a few more minutes," he said, pushing the Jeep as fast as it would go.
Even if he couldn't save Meg and Bobby, he would damn well make sure everyone else got off this island safely, one way or another.
To say it was slow going would have definitely been an understatement. Dean and Jo were careful to move at a pace that Castiel could keep up with, and even then Dean was falling back to help him over the rougher terrain they encountered, despite Castiel's assurances that he could make it just fine on his own. To add to that, they didn't have a lot of light yet to see by, though the sky was growing lighter by the minute.
He could see Jo staring into the trees with apprehension clear on her face; he didn't blame her, not after he told her exactly what kind of footprint she had found. The average person may have accused him of overreacting, being more worried about some other random dinosaur when there was still a T-Rex out and about- but Dean knew the T-Rex wasn't a problem anymore. The T-Rex knew what called this patch of jungle home, and the unofficial lines had been drawn. She wouldn't cross those lines unless she wanted to declare war.
T-Rexes weren't as vicious a predator as some people assumed them to be. The rex would defend her territory, and would certainly take advantage of helpless animals- or lawyers- that happened to stumble too close, but for the most part, they liked to scavenge. It was self preservation at its finest; the T-Rex had sharp senses and massive jaws, but they usually put both to use by finding the carcasses of other dinosaurs. They didn't like to resort to combat for food, and they certainly wouldn't pursue a few small prey animals into the territory of a vicious predator.
Because Spinosaurus was the very picture of what people believed a T-Rex to be.
It was an effective, vicious hunter on land and in the water, and though its diet was mostly comprised of fish- and a lot of it- it would also take advantage of land animals that were available to snack on. Dean couldn't imagine that there would be nearly enough fish in the river that split the island to sustain an eight-ton dinosaur, so not only would the Spinosaurus be ready to defend its territory, but it would be hungry. And unlike the T-Rex, he didn't doubt for a second that the Spinosaurus would cross boundaries without hesitation to chase down a meal. It didn't mind a battle for food.
He was pretty sure they would be safer in the T-Rex's territory, but it was too late to find their way back. The fastest way out of this predicament was south along the river, to the safety of the docks. Even at their slow pace, it could only be another hour or so of walking to get there.
He'd run out of stories to entertain Castiel with, and he was too out of breath to continue telling them, anyway. The air was so thick it was like breathing in soup, it was oppressively hot, and he definitely wasn't used to taking long hikes through jungle terrain.
He couldn't imagine how Castiel was feeling, counting all of that and then factoring in the festering wound on his leg.
He took another long look over at the writer, who was limping heavily but still stubbornly moving forward. He was pale, and every step was coupled with a sharp intake of breath from the pain, but he hadn't complained once. Dean was pretty sure if it were him trudging through this mess with a torn open leg, they would have gagged him to shut up his whining.
"Dean, look," Jo said, stopping a short distance ahead. She'd still been trying to pick out the easiest path through the jungle to make things easier on Castiel. Dean glanced at Castiel to make sure he was steady on his feet, and then he jogged up to Jo, following her gesture through the trees.
They had come to a tree line, and past the end was a massive open field, the grass about ankle high. There were two Brachiosaurs near the far end, but in the middle there were at least eleven or twelve Stegosaurus- and, from what he could see, two very young looking Stegosaurus grazing near the adults. To their west, the river still coursed south toward the ocean and the safety of the docks.
"Think they'll attack if we cross too close? I don't see any way of crossing the river here to keep a good distance," Jo said softly, and Dean took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Jo was right; following the river would take them within a hundred yards or so of the Stegosaurus. He had no idea what kind of reaction they would have to a few humans walking past them; maybe if there were just adults it would be less of a worry, but if the adults were protective of those babies, there was a good chance they might go on the offensive if they thought the babies might be at risk.
Dean did not want to meet the business end of those spikes, but at the same time, going around the herd would take a lot more time- and be a lot harder on Castiel. They would have to take the risk.
"We'll just stick close to the river and make sure they notice us. If they don't think we're trying to sneak around, they're less likely to think we're predators and go into overprotective mother mode," he said, which sounded a little like bullshit even to his own ears, but Jo accepted it with a simple nod.
When Dean turned back to help Castiel again, though, the whole plan changed.
Castiel was only a few feet behind them, leaning against a tree with his eyes shut- and just past him stood a massive dinosaur. It was mostly in silhouette in the dim light, but the six foot sail down its back made it easy to see how screwed they were. It hadn't attacked yet, but that wouldn't last- curiosity at the humans wandering in its territory would quickly turn into curiosity of 'I wonder how these things taste'. Dean did not have any plans of being a free sample.
"Cas, run!" he yelled, seeing no sense in subtlety as he grabbed Castiel's arm and pulled. Castiel's eyes flew open and it only took one glance at those massive, slender jaws before he was stumbling along, and they broke out from the trees just as the Spinosaurus snorted and growled, rushing after them.
They couldn't outrun it, and with Castiel injured, they were definitely sitting ducks. They needed to put something between the dinosaur and them, and the river wouldn't work.
He had another idea, though. Probably one of the stupidest he'd ever come up with, but it was all they had.
"Jo! Run into the Stegos! Run into the herd!" he yelled, one hand still secured tight around Castiel's arm in case he fell. Jo, being so trusting of him, didn't question the order- at least not out loud- and led the way right toward the peacefully grazing Stegosaurus.
Dean glanced over his shoulder just in time to duck as the Spinosaurus lunged for them, and its teeth snapped together where his head had been seconds before. Castiel stumbled and his leg nearly gave out, but amazingly he kept going, kept running as Dean pulled him along even faster. They were almost there, almost.
And now the Stegosaurus had noticed the chase that was almost right on top of them. The effect was immediate; the adults bellowed and the babies were herded toward the center of the pack, the adults beginning to converge toward them to form a defensive circle. Jo raced past one Stegosaurus and veered to stay clear of another, and Dean saw the one he and Castiel were about to pass shift its massive weight.
"Down!" he yelled hoarsely, yanking Castiel to the ground with him, and they hit the grass just as the Stegosaurus's tail sliced through the air over their heads, the spikes aimed right for the Spinosaurus that was coming up right behind them. The Spinosaurus dodged backwards and snarled at the Stegosaurus, but the herbivore was unimpressed and ready to take another swing.
Dean pulled Castiel up, but the writer's leg gave out almost immediately, and Dean winced at the agonized sound that came from Castiel as he nearly fell back to the ground; Dean grabbing onto him tightly was the only thing that kept him from hitting the ground again. They couldn't stop here, not now, because as soon as the Spinosaurus backed off, all the attention would be on them- and they were mere feet away from the very toddlers these massive dinosaurs were currently protecting.
"I've got you, Cas," he said, and this time Castiel didn't protest when Dean slid one hand under his knees and one under his shoulders and lifted him with a grunt. Castiel wound his arms around Dean's neck to try and relieve some of the weight on his arms, and Dean was already moving, dodging a swinging tail and taking a chance. He went for a small break between two of the adults, flinching at the bellow one of the Stegosaurus on the other side of the circle let loose at the Spinosaurus.
Jo had paused not far from the circle to make sure they made it through, and now she started running again, Dean pushing his burning muscles past the limit as they raced for the trees. He felt like his heart was going to give out, just break down from the stress and strain, but he ignored the feeling. They couldn't stop; it just wasn't an option, not until they found somewhere safer.
It was a partial relief when they finally made it into the trees on the other side; they weren't safe yet, but at least now they had some cover. He glanced back and saw the Spinosaurus still doing its dance with the Stegosaurus, both angry but not willing to actually land a blow- the Stegosaurus out of self preservation, and the Spinosaurus merely because it was heavily outnumbered. Dean turned back and kept walking at a fast pace, forcing one foot in front of the other until he finally heard Jo call his name softly.
She pointed out a huge tree whose roots formed a sort of half-hideaway beneath the trunk, and he gratefully stepped inside. Castiel was shaking as Dean set him down, but he was still conscious; Dean wasn't sure how long that would last, though. Castiel looked like…well, he looked like death, but that was a comparison Dean didn't want to make. Not right now.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his throat raw and burning from being so out of breath and yelling on top of that. Castiel managed a half shrug, leaning back against the wood and letting his eyes fall closed again.
"Been better, I think," he said, his voice quiet as Dean sat down by his leg. He carefully pulled back the makeshift bandage, now completely unrecognizable for the flannel it had been, since it was so soaked in blood now.
Dean cursed softly. The wound was so hot that he could feel the warmth of it just by holding his hand over it. The skin around it was bright red and inflamed, and there was yellowish stuff mixed in with the blood that was most definitely pus. Jo only looked over his shoulder for a moment before looking away, her throat working in what was obviously a bit of nausea, though to her credit she hid it well. It wouldn't exactly be encouraging if they started losing it in front of Cas.
"I should go and get the supplies from the dock," Jo suddenly said as Dean replaced the flannel. Castiel's leg had started bleeding again from all the running around, and Castiel really couldn't afford to lose any more blood. That finished, Dean gave Jo an incredulous look.
"Absolutely not. We're staying together. Running around alone out there is suicide," he said, and Jo laughed, but it wasn't a laugh that had any humor in it.
"We're killing him by dragging him around, Dean!"
Castiel snorted, but didn't bother opening his eyes. "Right here, thanks."
"I can go on ahead. It's not far to the docks, maybe an hour. I'll find a first aid kit and bring it back," Jo continued, ignoring Castiel's words.
"You wouldn't make it back at all, Jo! The Spinosaurus isn't the only thing out there. As far as we know, all the fences went down. You really think you'll be better off by yourself than in a group if a raptor shows up?" Dean asked, standing up and turning to face her.
"I honestly don't think it would make that much of a difference. We're no match for them whether there's one of us or three," Jo pointed out, and Dean sighed and shook his head.
"Even if you did manage to get there and back with supplies, that's still two hours. Either way it's going to be tough on him. One hour of walking or two hours of sitting around and hoping that you're not getting eaten? I'm not seeing a huge benefit to you leaving," Dean said, and Castiel cleared his throat loudly. His eyes were open now, and he looked quite irritated with both of them.
"If you two keep talking about me like I'm not here, I will personally deliver you to the biggest carnivore I can find," he said, though the mock threat came out the opposite of intimidating; his voice was wavering and weak. "Do I get a say in this, or are you going to keep debating for me?"
Dean felt his cheeks heat up, and he looked down at the ground in embarrassment. They were being assholes, both of them. Jo was looking a little sheepish too as she bit her lip.
"Sorry. Just…" she started, but she cut herself off and shook her head. "You're right. It's up to you, Castiel. I mean, whatever we do, it'll affect you more than either of us," she said softly, and Dean nodded in agreement.
"Yeah. Your pick, Cas."
"My opinion is that we keep moving. I can still walk. I'm not just going to sit around and wait for someone else to come up with a miracle," Castiel said without a moment of hesitation. "Just…give me a few minutes here, and we can start moving again. I'll manage."
Jo frowned. "Are you-"
"Don't even ask me if I'm sure. You know the answer to that," Castiel cut her off, leaning back and closing his eyes again. "Now stop fighting and give me at least thirty seconds of peace before we have to do more running and screaming, if you don't mind."
Dean couldn't help but smile. By all rights, Castiel should be the one angry, the one freaking out and making demands- but here he was, fighting infection and pain, and still able to be the voice of reason in a ridiculous situation. He made his way over to Castiel and sat down next to him, and Castiel shifted slightly to lean his head against Dean's shoulder. Jo sat down a few feet away, watching out the gap between the roots where they'd come in here.
"Been thinking about my next book," Castiel murmured after a few moments of silence, and Dean raised an eyebrow, taking Castiel's hand in his own and intertwining their fingers, squeezing gently.
"Yeah?"
Castiel nodded. "It'll be about a handsome paleontologist who gets trapped on an island full of rampaging dinosaurs."
Dean laughed. "Handsome, huh?"
"I know, it's unrealistic," Castiel said, smirking a little. "I mean, everyone knows that paleontologists are all old guys with bad hair always covered in dirt. My credibility will take a hit."
"You're probably right."
"I'm always right."
Jo rolled her eyes. "Oh my god, you two are disgusting."
Dean smirked. "Maybe you can give the old, dusty paleontologist an annoying assistant," he said, and Jo gave him a look. Castiel chuckled, but only for a moment before he winced. Dean squeezed his hand, and Castiel relaxed against his shoulder once more before speaking.
"An annoying assistant and a brother the size of a moose."
For the first time in a while, Dean thought of Sam; he'd probably made it back to the Visitors Center before all of the trouble had gone down, and that was at least a comforting thought, knowing that his brother was likely behind closed doors and safe.
With Castiel fading away right in front of him, he didn't know how much more he could handle.
He rubbed his thumb gently along the smooth skin of Castiel's hand, listening as his breathing evened out. He was going to save them both, Castiel and Jo. He didn't care what it took.