Chapter 9 - Green Rocks

The last thing Sam wanted was to take a nine-year-old with him on a recon mission. Dean would kill him if he found out. But Clark had a point—the cornfields would be a maze to Sam, even if they weren't a literal maze, and being on a horse would give him a serious advantage.

Dinner time wasn't as tense as Sam had expected it to be. Lex and Dean weren't exactly chatting, but they weren't fighting with each other. Sam also hadn't been sure whether Clark could keep a secret, but Clark didn't let anything slip about going to the warehouse. He did, however, ask his dad whether he and Sam could go horseback riding. Mr. Kent told Clark to make sure to be back before dark, which was fine with Sam, though Clark whined a little when Mr. Kent said he'd have to wear a helmet.

Getting onto the horse was more difficult than Sam had expected. Clark stood holding the horse in place, but it still took Sam well over a minute to get into the saddle, and he almost kicked the horse on his way up and over.

"It's best if you sit up straight," Clark said as he climbed onto his own horse with what seemed to be no effort, despite being about half its height. "My friend Pete had a hard time with that. Also, be gentle with the reins. You can hold onto the saddle horn if you want. Don't kick her in the side, she'll think you want to run."

Sam nodded, forcing himself to sit up straight and gripping onto the saddle horn with one hand, just for a little extra stability. Sam's horse followed Clark's, keeping a gentle pace. Clark was right—it wasn't too bad, but he was nervous about what would happen if they did need to run.

It didn't matter. Clark could hold on if his horse needed to run away; Sam was more worried about the younger kid's safety than his own. He knew how to handle himself in a fight, and he had brought Dean's gun with him. Besides, the Kents ate dinner early, and it was summer; there were still at least three hours left until sunset.

Clark lead the way around the outer edges of the cornfield. Sam's heart pounded, from the thrill of being up so high, out of nervousness about what he was going to find, and in anticipation of how Dean was going to react when he found out Sam had gone out to do recon without permission. But he didn't think he had many options. Their dad could be injured or trapped; another day could be the difference between life and death. Sam didn't always get along well with his dad, but he would have been devastated if something happened to him and he could have helped.

One thing at a time. Sam focused most of his attention on staying on the horse.

It took a lot longer to get to the warehouse than Sam had been expecting. Clark said it was just a couple of miles, and they were definitely walking faster than Sam could have walked on foot, but he was sure he could walk two miles in under an hour, and it felt like they'd been on the horses for a lot longer than that. Clark chatted for most of the trip, pointing out places he'd played with his friend Pete and telling stories about things he'd done on the farm.

When the sky started to darken, Sam cut off Clark in the middle of a sentence. "Clark, where's the warehouse?"

"Oh." Clark's face turned pink. "It's, um, it's that way." He pointed vaguely.

"Clark! We should have been there an hour ago."

"I'm sorry! It's just, it's scary."

Sam groaned. He should have just come out here on his own. "I thought you said you were super brave."

"I am!" Clark straightened up.

"I really need to get there to find clues about my dad."

"I know!" Clark said, and he directed his horse to turn. "We're going, we're going."

Sighing, Sam guided his horse to follow.

They reached the warehouse—or rather, what was left of it—a few minutes later. It was more like a huge pile of ruins. Definitely the kind of place where a monster would hide. Even seeing the warehouse from the outside ruled out quite a few possibilities of monster types, but investigating closer could give him more hints. From this distance, all he could see were a bunch of glowing green rocks surrounding the ruins.

"Wow." Sam climbed down from the horse; it was easier to get down than it had been to get up.

"Yeah," Clark said, but his face was pale.

Sam figured it was just fear; the best thing he could do was to distract him. "How did it get to be this way?"

"It was hit so many times on the day of the meteor shower, they didn't think it was worth it to rebuild it. So it's just been this way ever since." Clark winced and doubled over. "Sam, I really don't feel good."

"Whoa, take it easy." Sam hurried over to him—he looked like he might fall. This was worse than just fear; something was wrong with the kid.

Clark's eyes fluttered closed, and he fell off the other side of the horse.

"Clark!" Sam ran around to where Clark had fallen.

There was no one there.

Sam's breathing picked up, and he raced in circles. "Clark! Clark!"

A human-like figure was beside him in an instant—a creature completely covered in glowing green and blue tattoos stood over him, reaching a hand toward him. Sam jumped back, pulled the gun from his pocket, and took aim.

The creature did not react to the gun; it took a step toward Sam.

Sam cocked the gun and fired, then did it again. Both bullets hit. The momentum of the first shot knocked the creature back a little, and the second caused it to stumble, but neither made it fall.

Sam fired one more shot and bolted for the horse. He scrambled onto her back and kicked hard, and they ran toward the farm.

He clung on for dear life all the way back to the farm. Dean was definitely going to kill him, and Sam absolutely deserved it, but hopefully Dean would help him save Clark first.

Dean let his breath out as he and Lex quietly finished the last of the dishes from dinner. The day's work had been easy enough—washing eggs, sweeping floors, making sandwiches at lunchtime, and taking care of his and Sam's laundry had given him some time to think things over. After some reflection, Dean was more embarrassed that he'd let the rich kid provoke him than he was actually upset with Lex himself.

Once the dishes were done, Mrs. Kent told them they could head to bed early. Dean wondered if it was supposed to be part of the punishment, but he appreciated it. He had barely slept the night before, and even the easy house chores were starting to exhaust him. Mrs. Kent gave him a smile and a gentle pat on the shoulder before he headed up to his room, and something in Dean's chest twinged as he remembered his own mom.

No sooner had his back hit the mattress than Sam came charging into the room, his face pale. "Dean, I'm so sorry, I messed up, but we have to hurry, it's got Clark—"

Dean shot up, fatigue forgotten. "What happened?"

"I took Clark to do some recon out where you heard the scream, and—"

"You took Clark?"

"He was just showing me the way. I was just going to look for clues—"

"He's nine years old, and you're only thirteen!"

"I know, but I wasn't gonna fight it! But I was just gonna see if I could figure out what kind of creature it was—"

"Sammy!" Dean resisted the urge to smack his little brother upside the head. Sam knew better—the thought of something happening to Sam was enough to make Dean want to pummel him for putting himself in danger.

"Something came and grabbed him. He passed out as soon as it touched him. It tried to come after me, too. I shot at it, and it slowed it down enough for me to get away, but it was still alive."

"And you're sure Clark was, too?"

"I—I think . . . but I don't know . . ." Sam's lower lip trembled, and Dean was glad he hadn't hit him.

"The thing that took Clark, what did it look like?"

"Like a man, mostly, but it was covered in tattoos, some of them were glowing." Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "We have to do something, Dean!"

Dean swallowed hard and stood. "We are not doing anything. You're going to stay here this time."

"You can't go into a hunt alone!"

"Well, I'm not bringing you along. It's too dangerous."

"The Kents won't let you leave the house."

"I'll leave after they fall asleep."

Sam winced. "What do we tell the Kents about Clark?"

"Think of a cover story. They'll call the police if we tell them he was taken."

"I know. Maybe they should."

Dean shook his head. "No, the police can't help. You know that."

"But you can't fight this thing on your own. It's super fast, and bullets don't stop it!"

"Let me figure that out. Did you see Mr. and Mrs. Kent on your way in?"

"No, I think they're getting ready for bed."

Dean grabbed his jacket from the bedpost, where he'd hung it. "Be ready to cover for Clark. I'm going to get him."

"Let me help! I'll follow you, and—"

"You do that, and I'll tell Dad all about what you did today."

Sam's eyes sparkled. "You wouldn't!"

"Try me."

Sam's nose wrinkled. "Fine. Come back quick, okay?" He took the gun out of his pocket and handed it over. "It's low on ammo."

Dean pocketed the gun. He was torn between throwing his arms around his little brother out of gratitude that he was safe, and punching him in the arm until he swore never to run off and do something so stupid ever again. He settled for a stern glare and a clap on the shoulder before stalking out of the room.

He glanced in both directions before bolting for the front door.

A/N: Just wanted to let you know, this fic is projected at 14 chapters total, but the sequel is already in the planning phase :)