Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural
Warning: NOT A HAPPY STORY.
A/N: Again, I'm sorry for making the last chapter so short. This one is longer, I promise. Thank you for the constructive reviews! I enjoy reading them and hearing what you guys have to say about my writing.
Dabo pacem: Again, still leaning towards that. Unless I have a bunch of people that are adamant on Dean forgiving Sam that is likely how I'll end it.
Stedan: I'm glad you think I did a good job! And if you think it's intense now, you just wait. It gets better (I hope). I was sort of going for that sort of unforgiving, angry version of Dean. I'm glad you think I did that accurately. ;)
PriWinchester: I can't wait to hear what you think of this either! :)
The lines mean either time change or POV change.
Dean's POV
Sam ate his food without a word, but Dean couldn't contain his curiosity about their conversation back at the motel. He glanced at Sam between bites, trying to get a read on his emotions and gauging if his brother would be the one to bring it up. When silence reigned, Dean realized that Sam wouldn't crack very easy. Strange how they ended up here when they had once been so close. In the end, it was Dean who broke the silence first. "So tell me about Jess," he stated as if he were commenting on the weather.
Sam, who had just finished his small meal, sat up a bit straighter. "Well, we met in one of our psychology classes. I thought she was the prettiest girl I ever saw and told her so before asking her if she would like to have dinner with me. Two and a half years later we were... well, we were engaged."
Dean made a weird choking sound and coughed twice before saying in a strained voice, "You got engaged? Wow, umm, congrats, I guess."
Sam, with a bit more confidence, continued. "Thanks. We got got married at DisneyLand a few years ago. It was a pretty small wedding. A couple family members from her side and some friends of ours. We moved into our own house a little while after that. I got my degree in law and she became a licensed counselor..." He trailed off, lost in thought.
"Well, sounds like you found your apple-pie life, after all," Dean commented a bit scathing.
Sam gave Dean an intense look. "You think I would have offered to go on a hunt if I were living an apple-pie life?"
Before Dean could respond, a wail sounded off in the distance. Sam sprinted towards the source before Dean had time to stop him. He hesitated - if he left, they would likely lose their stuff; stay and Sam could die. Scowling with frustration he yelled, "SAM! IT'S A TRICK! GET BACK HERE!" Dean waited a moment. Nothing. "Son of a bitch," he muttered.
He was about to step over the boundary of their camp when a rustling from within caught his attention. He spun around and saw the Wendigo looming only a few yards away. He stepped back until he went over the line of protection - that was apparently useless - and realized too late he grabbed the wrong gun.
The Wendigo shrieked and took a step towards Dean. "HEY!" Two gun shots sounded to his left. The monster let out another ear piercing cry and Dean saw Sam standing there holding his shotgun; neither of them grabbed the right weapon. The creature rushed at Sam and grabbed him. "NO!" Dean screamed, but they were already gone. He ran to get his flare gun, then took off in a westward direction. He ran confidently, trusting his memory of the maps he'd drawn and traced and gone over numerous times to guide him.
Dean ran as hard as he could until he tripped over a root sticking out of the ground. A sense of hopelessness fell upon Dean at that moment. The Wendigo would reach it's hiding spot in less than an hour, it would take Dean at least two even if he ran the entire way. He cursed and quickly got up and started running again. He would still pursued the monster that took his brother. He wouldn't give up.
Two hours later Dean reached at the entrance of a mine that went deep underground. Down there the creature took up residence and Dean knew he would find Sam at the end. Dean headed in with careful steps. He crept quiet as a mouse through the tunnels, grateful that it was a straight shoot and there weren't any splitting paths.
Before long, the awful stench of death reached his nose. He powered through the stink and managed to finally reach the end of the tunnel. There was only one problem.
No one was there. Wendigoes normally hung up their prey and would slowly eat them. If no one hung then that meant they were already dead... Dread began to seep into his veins as he thought about the implications of that.
Dean shook aside his fear and started searching for one of the recent victims. He dared not include Sam as a victim. Not yet. He recognized a few of the faces from newspaper clippings he'd gone through, but they were all long dead. The victims from the past few weeks were absent. Dean could only think of one reason there weren't any fresh bodies: the Wendigo switched his cave.
"Oh, come on!" He shouted into the darkness. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to think of what to do next. It took him several days to find this nest, everyone would be dead by the time he figured out where the new hideout.
Dean headed out of the mine refusing to give in. The first rays of sunlight started to peek through the trees as he breathed fresh air again. Without hesitation, Dean hiked back to their camp.
When he got back, he noticed all their supplies was - unsurprisingly - gone. Dean looked through the scattered remains of their camp, trying to find clues as to where it may have taken Sam.
Forty-five minutes later Dean found what he sought.
When they had stopped at the gas station where Sam bought Ramen, his little brother also bought M&M's. He offered them to Dean, who declined. He wasn't about to forgive Sam over a bag of chocolate.
Now, in the middle of the woods, Dean saw a trail of candy leading away from their campsite like in Hansel and Gretel. He murmured to himself, "You always were the smart one."
Dean recovered what he could from the ruined tents, including the few provisions he buried when they arrived. Then he took off to follow the trail. A sense of urgency filled him. The Wendigo would want to kill Sam sooner rather than later, so if Dean wanted to save his brother he needed to hurry.
Not even thirty minutes later, he found another entrance to a mine. The rancid smell of decaying meat was much less prominent inside and Dean took courage in that. He advanced through the cave that again had few twists and turns. Dean took a right at the only cross section. If he got lost it wouldn't be that hard to go back and take a left. He was thankful that his dad enforced the practice of studying every aspect of a hunt before going in. Dean already knew the presence of every cave, tunnel, and mine - abandoned or not - in the entire stretch of woods. He knew there was only that one cross section and escape would be easy.
It didn't take long for Dean to reach the end of the shaft. He felt a wave of relief crash over him when he saw Sam hanging there, unconscious, but alive. Though Dean would never admit it, he felt an invisible weight taken off his shoulders when he saw his brother. Dean quickly cut his brother free and did the same to the victims. Then, he sat them all along the wall of the hole - he couldn't take all of them at once.
Once all four people were placed, Dean called out for the monster. "Alright, you son of a bitch! Let's see what you got." He started making as much noise as he could. It wasn't long before the Wendigo started howling and came out of it's corner. Dean aimed his flare gun and with one quick shot, flames consumed the creature. Dean watched as it burned. He walked over to the pile of ashes and spat on it.
Because Dean couldn't possibly hope to take all four people out at once, he left his food and water then made his way to the nearest place where he could get reception. Just as he was about to dial 9-1-1, Some great force overtook him. He flipped himself over and saw the ugly face of another Wendigo roaring at him. Dean tried to stretch for his flare gun that fell to the side, but it was just out his grasp. He wrestled with the monster for several minutes before finally reaching his flare gun and shooting it in the chest.
At last, Dean managed to call for rescue. He gave them his location to the best of his ability, then slumped against a tree. Exhaustion and fatigue weighed him down, but he forced himself to stay awake until help arrived.
As the adrenaline that had been pumping through him slowly lessened, he felt an agonizing pain on his right upper leg. He looked down and saw huge slash marks across the top of his thigh. It must have gotten him while they were tussling on the ground. The wound was pretty wide and deep. Dean took a moment to control his pulse then took off his shirt and put it over the scar marks. It wasn't a life threatening injury. He would live. He would definitely need stitches and there was good chance he wouldn't be able to run on it for a little bit. Hopefully, with the help of some painkillers, he would be able to get back to hunting pretty fast. The scars will make a great story for the ladies, too.
Before he knew it, Dean could hear the footsteps of the EMT approaching. It was only then, that Dean allowed himself to fall into a deep reprieve.
A/N: You're probably thinking one of two things: 1) that was stupid; 2) THAT WAS SO INTENSE I NEED MORE! I hope you're thinking the second one, but I personally think that this section is sort of boring. There's a good chance I'll come back to this later and add more description. Do you think I should? Let me know via reviews!
Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate all the feedback and support I've received for this story. I'm happy to see that people are actually enjoying it! I will update as soon as I can! I pinky swear!