Dean stalked back down the banks of the Atchafalaya basin, crouched low and eyes vigilant. He had pulled his sawn-off out of his duffel bag and was holding it steadily before him, eyes darting back and forth between the tall column of cypress trees and the immeasurable depths of the swamp. Tandy had also removed a weapon, her dagger, and was poised carefully, ready for battle. Neither of them would be able to kill the Aswang, not without the correct artillery, but at least they would be able to slow it down if it attacked.
"Sam!" Dean called quietly, his voice a shuddering whisper as they approached the area where they had left his little brother. "Sam, where are you?!"
"Dean, c'mere. Looks like there's been a scuffle." Tandy commented, gesturing towards a patch of disturbed sand and amidst it, Sam's idle canteen.
Dean looked up, much less the fearless, reckless hunter that she had always known him to be and it was only then Tandy noticed just how much older he looked. How weary. How so completely and crushingly done.
Suddenly, there was a garbled, thrashing sound from somewhere over the water and Dean and Tandy turned, just in time, to see Sam release a strangled cry and draw in his last breath before something dark and deadly and not quite human dragged him beneath the surface.
"Sweet Jesus!" Tandy screamed. She dropped her blade and lurched forward. Without thinking, she bounded across the shore, kicking up peat and sand in the process. The Aswang was already beginning to shed its human skin, its body becoming large and bloated, like a water-logged corpse. Tandy reached the water's edge and was preparing to dive in when she felt her shirt snag on something hard, causing her to jerk backwards. She stumbled, momentarily losing balance and glanced up to see sage green eyes flash before her.
Dean grabbed her forcefully by the arms and shoved her backwards. He hadn't intended to be so rough, but he was in full blown hunter mode now and she ended up slipping on the boggy soil any way and landed, elbows down, in the mud.
"No!" He commanded; eyes sharp, authoritative. "I'll go!"
"Dean!" She called, pulling free something that was half-submerged beneath the mud. She sent the whip soaring through the air and Dean dropped his sawn-off and caught it in his injured palm. He winced, ignoring the fresh coat of blood that leaked through his bandage and kicked off his boots.
Tandy knew that there was no point in arguing with Dean. He'd risk his life for Sam, time and time and time again, and it didn't matter because it would always end the same way. Even if that way meant that her heart would shatter into a thousand tiny pieces, and each time, he'd take a piece of it with him when he left. That's just the way that it was with the Winchester's, and who was she to stop one sibling from saving the other? She'd do it for her brothers at least, without question.
Dean dove into water and propelled himself towards the spot that Sam had been dragged under. Having never been around the water much as kids, he and Sam were both surprisingly adept at swimming, so the fact that this thing could wrangle his armed and six something foot tall brother into the water and take him down said a lot.
Dean loosened his bandage when he was certain that he was on top of Sam and the Aswang and let the blood flow freely, praying that the creature would release his brother and go for him instead. He didn't have to wait for long though because just as he had hoped, the Aswang relinquished its hold on Sam and instantly redirected its attention towards him. As the Aswang shimmied up through the darkness below him Dean could see that its human form was beginning to morph into that of a fat, snake-like creature with long, grotesque limbs and sharp fangs. Dean attempted to plunge the whip into its chest as it drew nearer, but the Aswang swiftly rolled to the left, dodging the attack and the whip coiled around its growing tail instead. Reaching forward, with thick, outstretched fingers, like leathery cords of rope, the Aswang gripped Dean's shoulders and together, they spiralled downwards, into the blackness, towards the bottom of the basin.
Pinned beneath the crushing weight of the Aswang's thick and heavy body, reeds and rocks pressing into his spine, it was then that Dean realised that the Aswang was not trying to devour him, it was trying to drown him.
Dean fought tirelessly, using every ounce of strength that he possessed to push the Aswang off of him, but its grip held fast and he felt himself slipping, his own grip slackening. He was losing the battle. Air escaped his lungs in a cluster of bubbles that floated, almost mournfully, towards the surface. His lungs burned and his body ached and if he could just get a hold of that whip, it'd all be okay. Where was it?!
His eyes searched blindly through the water and churned up debris but he could see nothing, feel nothing, save for the cold, constricting force in his lungs and the hefty weight on top of him.
Suddenly, from somewhere above them, Dean heard splashing and the Aswang shuddered, quickly spinning, like an alligator performing a death roll before it finally loosened its grip on him. Dean tumbled through the blackness, uncertain as to which way was up and which way was down, blind and beaten, and felt the gentle pull of unconsciousness reeling him in.
The last thing he could recall before he gave in to the darkness completely was a small fist clutching the sleeve of his shirt and the blurred outline of what looked like his brother impaling the Aswang in the heart, the whip jerking wildly through the water before being engulfed completely in a cloud of thick, black monster blood.
"Dean." Sam's voice sounded distant as it hovered from somewhere up above him. "C'mon, wake up. Please. Wake up."
Slowly, as if it was because he was commanded to do so, because it was Sam who needed him, Sam who was calling to him, willing him to be there, to be there for him, Dean opened his eyes.
"Hey, there he is." Sam breathed gently, his face looming over his brothers, a bead of sweat clinging to the tip of his nose. "You had us going for a minute there."
Dean swallowed, lips dry, and his whole chest almost groaned in detest. His rib cage felt as though it were on fire and there was a dull ache in his injured palm. Dean glanced down to see Tandy fastening gauze to his wound, nimble fingers twisting a fresh bandage that she had pulled from his med kit into an almost surgical bow.
"We get it?" Dean asked hoarsely.
"We got it." Sam replied, offering him a weak smile.
Tandy stood, without saying a word and began to gather their things. Her face was blank, devoid of all emotion, and her actions appeared almost mechanical.
Dean wanted to make a joke, to lighten the mood, but when he opened his mouth to speak, Sam quickly silenced him, making a comment to preserve his energy and instead helped him into a sitting position.
"You think you can stand?" He asked.
Dean nodded.
The sky was almost black now and thunder clouds began to gather overhead, the threat of rain ever-present in this harsh and unforgiving wasteland. Together, with Sam as his support, the brothers rose from the sand.
"This looks like everythin'." Tandy said, hauling the duffel bag over her shoulder.
She looked tiny, swallowed up beneath their many provisions. Dean almost offered to take some of the supplies off of her hands, to help her, but seeming to have read the look on his face, she spoke first.
"M'good. Honestly." She admitted. "Let's just get outta here. Even with that thing gone, this place gives me the creeps."
"Will you be alright?" Sam asked, partially hoping that Dean would say yes. Now that the adrenaline from the hunt was beginning to subside, his thirst was seeping back in and he didn't even know if he had it in him to keep it together and carry Dean at the same time.
"Think so." Dean wheezed, clutching his chest. "Let's just do what the lady says." He then turned a hopeful gaze towards Tandy. "How about that drink?"
There was a brief moment of silence before Tandy muttered coldly, "Raincheck."
Um. Okay. Why the iciness in her tone? Wasn't he the one who had just nearly died ... again?
Dean bit his bottom lip, remembering their previous conversation. Right. Maybe that was the problem.
The first thing he planned to do when they made it back to Thibodaux was apologise. Scratch that. The first first thing he planned to do was step out of his wet clothes and into a nice, hot shower. The second thing he planned to do was apologise. For now, though, all he wanted was to get the hell out of there and judging by the grim look on both Sam and Tandy's faces, he wasn't alone.
