Rule 18: Don't try and hunt a hungry Wendigo with only a pup tent.

Dean couldn't help but watch skeptically as John set up the tiny tent. Really, it wasn't much of a tent to begin with, basically a large blanket draped over a vertical tree branch with four large rocks on each corner to keep it from blowing away.

Sam held Dean's hand, as he too watched their father, the younger boy's fingers cold in his big brother's grip. This was Sammy's first hunt and Dean couldn't help but wonder if their father should have waited for something easier- and safer- like a ghost while his brother still had his 'training wheels' on.

John finished putting up the tent, took a step back to make sure it was just right, before nodding and turning to his sons.

"This'll do for the night."

"Um… Dad?" Dean said cautiously. He wasn't one to argue with their father but he couldn't help but point out the problem he was seeing, "It's not that big. We're not all going to be able to fit in there."

"That's because not all of us are going to sleep in the tent at the same time," John replied, as though that should have been obvious to his sons, "We are going to take turns watching for the Wendigo."

Dean frowned and glanced quickly to his little brother.

"Even Sammy?"

John's dark eyes fixed on his youngest son's face, "Yes, even Sam."

Dean's frowned deepened but he said nothing else.

"You boys can sleep first," John told them as though he was being extremely generous and Dean quickly pulled his brother into the tent with him.

With only two sides of the tent closed in, wind and a light, misty rain reached the children, making them both shiver. Dean bent down to brush leaves and sticks away before he lay down on his side, motioning to his brother to lie beside him.

The younger boy did as his sibling asked and lay down as well, sniffling for a moment and curled right against his brother's chest. Dean draped an arm around his brother and closed his eyes, trying to get some sleep before their father woke him, as he invariably knew John would so he could keep a lookout when it was his turn.

Outside the tent, the eldest Winchester crouched, watchful, listening to every creak of a branch and shift of the leaves on the ground, flare gun in one hand and flashlight in the other.

SPN

Dean woke to his father shaking his shoulder roughly some time later.

Sitting up and grimacing as his back protested the movement, unused to lying on the cold, hard ground, the boy focused on the silhouette of his father looming over him in the gloom.

"Take these," John whispered, handing Dean the gun and flashlight.

The boy did so and stood, bending over in the tight space of the tent.

"Wake your brother up in four hours," John called out to him as Dean left the tent.

Dean nodded but he wasn't sure his Dad had seen. During the night the rain had increased and now fat, icy drops were falling from the trees.

The boy crouched down on the ground in much the same way his father had done hours earlier and squinted, peering through the forest with his flashlight, careful to keep the beam from the tent and waking John and Sammy.

Dean rubbed a hand over his face. He was exhausted and it was very difficult to see anything in the woods at this time of night. The shadows made it look like the Wendigo could be hiding behind any tree or bush, ready to pounce.

As he waited, the boy wondered if he should just let his brother sleep and watch for eight hours instead of four.

No, Dad would know, Dean thought; He'll be pissed if he finds out Sammy didn't take his watch.

Sighing, the boy struggled to stay awake as his brother and father slept in the flimsy tent only a few feet away.

W

"Ahhhhhh!"

The high-pitched scream startled Dean awake and he turned around. He knew exactly who had made that sound. His little brother.

The boy had fallen asleep on his feet and during that time the Wendigo had snuck up on him. The monster was towering over the tattered remains of the tent, claws prepared to tear into flesh instead of fabric.

"DEAN!"

John's shout shook Dean out of his shock.

The boy raised the flare gun and pointed it at the Wendigo that hadn't seemed to notice him despite the glare of the flashlight.

"Dean!" Sam's frightened cry cut through Dean's heart and he fired the gun.

The flare hit the Wendigo in the side and the creature screamed in pain. For a moment Dean didn't think he had killed the monster but then it's grey skin caught fire, quickly burning up like paper as the beast shrieked in pain, charging right over John and Sam in its dying panic.

Dean watched as the Wendigo burned as it ran, until it collapsed a dozen meters from the camp, its remains smoldering.

"SAMMY!" Dean cried, "DAD!"

Hurrying over to his father and brother, the boy shone the flashlight at them; terrified they'd been injured.

John reached out and shoved the flashlight down towards the ground.

"We're fine," he growled.

Dean wasn't convinced. Sammy's face was pale, his hazel eyes wide and he was shaking.

"Come here, Sammy," Dean said and the younger boy practically fell into his arms.

"You okay? It didn't get you?"

The younger boy shook his head, "Dad protected me."

Dean looked up as John stood, wincing and saw a damp patch on his father's sleeve.

"You're hurt!" the older boy cried.

"Just a scratch," John muttered, "I'm fine."

Dean nodded.

The eldest Winchester tore the tattered blanket down, rolled it into a ball before tossing it into the trees.

"What happened, Dean?" the man asked, turning to his eldest son.

The boy was taken aback for a moment, but then raised his head, looking directly into John's eyes.

"I fell asleep, Sir."

"You fell asleep," his father repeated.

Dean nodded.

"What is the most important rule when hunting?" John asked.

"Stay alert," Dean told him right away, "Always. No matter what."

John didn't say anything for a moment, then, his gaze traveled down to his youngest son who was still snuggling with his eldest.

"Do you realize what could have happened because you fell asleep?"

"Yes, I-"

"That Wendigo could have killed you, me and Sam," John interrupted, "We all would have paid the ultimate price for just a few minutes of shuteye."

Dean bit his lip but said nothing. He knew how dangerous Wendgios were and how easily this one could have killed his father and brother. John didn't have to make him feel worse about it.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"No," John snapped.

"No?"

"You're not sorry," the elder Winchester told him, "You don't fully comprehend how serious this was."

"I do! I really-" Dean began but John held a hand up, stopping him.

"Maybe next time you'll think about losing Sam and maybe then you'll take what I'm saying to heart," John told him, "I hope you do and your brother doesn't have to pay for your next mistake."

That said, John started off through the woods in the direction of the road.

Dean remained seated for a moment, his father's words stinging in him still.

He peered down at the top of his brother's head and sighed, standing and pulling his sibling up at the same time.

Taking Sam's hand, Dean used the flashlight to guide the way their father had gone. The younger boy holding tightly onto Dean's free hand as they walked.

"It's okay, Dean," Sammy whispered, "You killed the monster. You kept me safe."

The older boy's heart swelled at his sibling's words at the same time his mind still reeled from his father's admonishment.

"I'll never let anything bad happen to you, Sammy," Dean whispered.

Author's Note:

Prompt comes from missingmikey.

Thanks to elliereynolds777, whimsicalbarwench, reannablue, Sallyannerenee, and SamDeanLover28 for reviewing.