I can't believe the month is almost over! The next SPN story will be posted on the 31st and will be a full-fledged one-shot to end the month so stay tuned ^_^

28. "Such wow, Many normal, Very oops"

(accidents, hunting season)

Dean dragged himself back over to Sam, collapsing beside his brother with a gasp.

"Dean?" Sam murmured.

"Don't move," Dean told him worriedly. "I'm just gonna try to clean this up, okay?"

Sam hummed, and nodded before wincing. Dean was afraid he had a concussion, though that was only one of their many worries right now.

Sam's leg was worse.

He didn't know why they always seemed to have the worst luck. It wasn't enough for Sam to get mauled by a black dog out in the middle of nowhere, but Dean had also gotten shot. By a hunter.

And not their kind of hunter. The kind who usually only shot Bambi's mom. That's just what happened when you were out in the woods during hunting season, he supposed. Still. The guy could have been a little more responsible.

The guy might have even gone for help if he hadn't been mauled by the same black dog that had gotten Sam.

Overall, this trip, which was supposed to be a milk run, ended up with both of them unable to walk out of the woods, and no cell service to call for help.

Dean had tried praying to Cas but the angel couldn't fly anymore what with being cut off from heaven and all, so he didn't know when or if he was going to get there. Or if he'd even heard him.

Dean turned to Sam with the river water he'd grabbed, soaking his last clean handkerchief and trying his best to flush the wounds in Sam's thigh and side. His brother flinched and whimpered. Dean worriedly noted the redness of the wounds and the heat of Sam's skin. He had a fever, and was terrified that sepsis would set in if they stayed out here too much longer without even the ability to clean the wounds properly. He hadn't even had his flask on him. Dean was lucky the same thing hadn't happened to him, though that might have been because he'd removed the bullet from his own leg in the running water of the stream making extra careful to wash the wound. He'd thrown up from the pain, but it had probably helped keep it from getting infected. Unfortunately, he couldn't drag Sam over to the stream. He could barely drag himself.

It was overall a bad situation. The only really good thing was that it felt like the apocalypse couldn't reach them out here.

Silver lining and all, Dean supposed wryly.

Sam cried out as Dean flushed the tender wounds as well as he could. "Easy," he murmured, patting his brother's chest.

"D-Dean," Sam swallowed hard. "N-no point in…"

"Shh," Dean hushed him. "It's better than nothing. And don't worry, we'll get help. It's hunting season, remember? Someone will be around eventually."

But it had been what? Two, three days now? Dean wasn't even sure anymore, and no one had crossed their path. They were deep in the woods.

Dean felt his brother's temperature again, and sat back, wincing as he stretched his own bad leg out. He looked up at the trees and closed his eyes. Cas, come on. If you can hear me…we really need help.

XXX

Bobby Singer wasn't really surprised to see the angel at his door, but he was surprised to see him without Sam and Dean.

Of course, his unasked questions were answered only a second later.

"Sam and Dean are in trouble," the angel said without greeting or preamble.

Bobby sighed wearily. When were those idjits not in trouble? "I'll go get my stuff."

Ten minutes later, he was on the road with an angel riding shotgun.

"You said Dean prayed to you?" Bobby asked.

Castiel nodded. "Yes, I can only assume their phones aren't working. They must be far out in the woods."

Bobby nodded. He knew the area they had been heading to, but he didn't know how deep they'd had to go. Truth be told, he felt a little guilty for not noticing their absence. He'd been so caught up in research that he hadn't realized it was two days later and the boys hadn't so much as called in. Usually cases involving black dogs weren't that complicated.

"Once we get there, will you be able to sniff them out?" Bobby asked.

Castiel frowned, glancing over at him. "I'm… not a hunting dog. And with the angel proof markings I put on their ribs, I won't be able to tell that it's them. I may be able to sense their human souls, however. But I'm not at full power, otherwise I would have simply flown there when Dean prayed to me."

"I know, I know," Bobby said, annoyed, but it wasn't the angel's fault.

When they got to the woods, Bobby pulled up at the head of the nearest trail and got out, slinging his bag over one shoulder and his rifle over the other.

Bobby glanced at the map that was set up. "Well, if no one has found them yet, then best guess is that they're probably out there." He tapped a spot with no trails listed. "There are probably only a few hunters who would go out there, the ones who mean business, but they still might not have come across the boys." Or, there was the other possibility, of course, that Bobby refused to think about. But if Dean had prayed to Cas not that long ago, then they had to still be alive.

"Well, let's go," Bobby said and they started off into the woods.

XXX

Dean tried to keep Sam as cool as possible. He should probably try to drag him down to the river, but he honestly didn't think he had the strength. He might not have any choice later, but right now, he would stick to hobbling back and forth for fresh water with the makeshift crutch he had made out of a branch. For now, about all the energy he had left was spent just sitting there, Sam's head resting on his good leg.

Sam made a sound of discomfort and shifted. Dean stroked his filthy hair out of his eyes, placing the cool cloth on his forehead, mouth pinching with worry. He was sure that Sam's fever had risen just within the last hour.

"Just hold on, Sammy," he whispered to his brother. "Please."

Sam just whimpered in pain and his face contorted as his body shifted slightly.

Dean leaned his head back against the trunk of a tree and closed his eyes.

"Cas, come on," he prayed, really hoping the angel could hear him. "We really need you here, buddy."

Maybe he was hoping for a miracle that would never come. After all, the angel, like the rest of them, seemed to be out of miracles.

XXX

Bobby and Cas stood over the remains of what appeared to be a hunter. The shredded camouflage jacket and rifle near his hand being the only real indication. They'd have to use dental records to identify him.

"Must have tangled with the black dog the boys were hunting," Bobby mused, wincing at the smell. The body had to be a couple days old now. Already picked over by the forest scavengers.

"Then maybe Sam and Dean aren't too far," Castiel said.

They continued on until Bobby stopped, seeing another corpse.

"Cas."

The angel turned and they studied a large black dog, lying dead, shot multiple times.

"They can't be far from here. Sam! Dean!" Bobby called.

Castiel joined the call and they hurried on until the angel stopped.

"Bobby, there's a river and…I can feel them, I think."

Relief flooded the old hunter as he and the angel raced in the direction Cas was indicating.

And there they found the boys. His boys. Alive.

Bobby thanked whoever might be listening and hurried forward, Cas on his heels.

"There you are," he said.

Dean was sitting with his back against a tree, Sam's head in his lap, and he looked up, eyes wide as if in disbelief as he saw Bobby coming.

"B-Bobby, Cas," he breathed. "That really you?"

Bobby knelt down beside them and reached out and cup Dean's face, smiling. "Yeah, it's really me, ya idjit. What the hell happened?"

"Black dog got Sammy, and…that poor bastard shot me on accident."

Bobby remembered the dead hunter and glanced down at Dean's leg where dirty strips of his shirt were tied tightly around it.

"Sam has a fever," Castiel said, brow furrowed as he knelt as well and touched Sam's forehead.

"Yeah, he's…not doing well," Dean said, swallowing hard. "We need to get him to the hospital."

"I can call the rangers, I have a satellite phone."

"No need," Castiel said and gently shifted Sam away from Dean and up over his shoulder. Sam moaned, but stayed completely unconscious. "As long as Dean can walk out of here."

"I'll make it," Dean grunted, already pushing himself to his feet.

Bobby caught his arm and helped. "You sure, son? It's a long way."

"Better than waiting for them to find us," Dean said and grabbed a makeshift crutch, leaning on that and Bobby as they followed Cas.

"Man am I glad you found us," Dean said quietly. "Thanks."

Bobby smiled and squeezed Dean's shoulder. "Anytime."

Later when they finally got to the hospital and Sam and Dean were both taken care of and fed and medicated, Bobby found them in Sam's room. The younger Winchester was still unconscious, but the doctor had said he would make a full recovery once he rested for a few days. He'd still somehow managed to avoid sepsis setting in, despite everything, so with some antibiotics he would be back to normal soon enough.

Dean had obviously made his way to his brother room, with his real crutches and he now sat, slumped, beside the bed, bad leg stretched out and head pillowed on his arms at Sam's shoulder.

Cas sat on the other side of Sam's bed, watching over both of them, their guardian angel. He looked up as Bobby came in.

"They're both going to be fine," he said, seeming to share Bobby's relief.

Bobby nodded, the last of the tension in his chest finally releasing. He pulled up another chair, and sat down to watch over all three of his boys.