Disclaimer: I will shape and mold their behavior, but that does not make them mine.
Wow, thank you guys so much for the reviews! I wasn't sure a lot of people would like it. Well, here is the next chapter, I hope you enjoy it! Oh, and sorry for any spelling errors.
Wind – Chapter Two: Our Guardian
Dean turned and watched as his little brother bravely headed into the woods to collect fire wood. It confused him that Sammy stopped challenging him. They used to fight about everything and the old Sam would definitely not have gone to get the fire wood without an argument about what Dean would be doing while he was gone. He sighed, not exactly sure if he liked the change.
He looked to the other side of the lake and thought. He might as well get some wood too, just in case. He walked over and ventured into the woods. It surprised him how little dry wood there was, most everything was soaked, though he didn't remember it raining. Shrugging, he headed further in. Five minutes in he found some particularly dry sticks and began piling them into his arms. He could faintly here those wind chimes but he blocked it out.
It seemed like something his father would remember to write about, but of course there wasn't any information on this thing anyway. Maybe it was a bad idea. Dean looked down, realizing that they had no idea how to kill it. What if it actually showed up? He looked back, suddenly feeling watched.
"Dean?" It was Sam, but his voice sounded so far away. Dean dropped all the sticks he had collected and began to run back to the lake only to find something wrapped around his ankle. It jerked him roughly causing his balance to slip and him to fall to his knees. His hands, that had shot out to break his fall, where the next to go as two sets of thick-thorny roots slid out of the ground and wrapped around them. Dean gasped, trying to hold back the pain as the thorns pushed into his skin.
He wanted to get to Sam, but any movement he made just dug the thorns deeper.
"Sammy!" He called out in desperation. Maybe his brother was okay, maybe he was just lost. The wind chimes stopped - an abrupt halt to something that he was just growing used to. In its place was an eerie quiet; no birds or bugs, nothing. Dean pulled lightly at his bounds but it gave no slack, he was stuck. If only he could get the knife out of his pocket, but the roots were holding him too tight to the ground for something like that.
The dead leaves around him shook and moved even though there was no wind. They danced around him and swirled until, in the midst of it, a woman's silhouette appeared. She stepped out of the torrent and looked down at him. Her face was small and frail looking. There were wrinkles under here eyes, but despite her eerie entrance, she looked as gentle as his grandmother the day she died.
"I was just leaving," Dean tried. Maybe she's let him off with a slap on the wrist. Maybe less than what she might have done to his brother whose pained cry was still ringing in his ears.
"NO!" She screeched, her wrinkly face scrunching up in anger. "You've caused me too much grief already, scum!" The wind around them picked up causing more leaves to rain down. Nature. Dean could've hit himself for not realizing sooner what they were dealing with. The wind chimes.
"You're the forest guardian." He said calmly, knowing she wouldn't hurt him unless provoked, though it stuck him as odd that she would be doing this in the first place.
His father had explained it to him a long time ago; when he was just a little boy.
"Each forest has a guardian, Dean. Did you know that? Well it's true. When the forests were young and new, each got its own protective spirit, just as young and resilient as themselves. But you know that mankind has been chopping down the trees and ruining the forests. Such destruction was new to the guardians, they were unsure of how to handle the situation which resulted in the death of many wooded areas."
"But won't they hurt us for being here." He could almost hear his father's chuckle.
"No, son. They are gentle and piece loving. They love to have friendly visitors."
"Don't play dumb with me!" She called out, her raggedy white dress shifting with the wind that she was creating. "You've known what I was the second you set foot in my forest and if you don't tell your men to leave I will kill you all!" Dean blinked, confused. There must be more people here.
"No, listen. You've got the wrong person! I'm not here to do anything bad; in fact, I just got here with my brother a little while ago." He reasoned, craning his neck to look at her.
"LIES!" She screamed, darkness falling on them. "I will not fall for it and I will not let you hurt my charge!" She threw her arm out and glared at him. Suddenly the roots that held him to the ground dug deeper in him, breaking the skin and pulling his hands into the ground.
"I'm not lying! You're killing the wrong person!" Dean gasped as the roots around his ankles began to tighten also. "Please! I'm not here to hurt you or the forest! You have to believe me!"
"Why should I? I've given you so much of my time and patience and I won't deal with it any longer! It's either you go back to your camp and take down the shield or I'll…" She paused as if considering the situation before her. The roots loosened as her concentration went to another place, another time. "I'll kill them."
"Going to have to tell me who "them" is and plus I don't know what you're talking about." Dean said, trying to get the roots loose enough so he could get free. "Maybe if you could tell me what is going on I could help you."
"Why should I trust you?" She asked, though as she spoke the roots shriveled away and disappeared. She knew he wasn't lying.
"I think you know I'm not here to hurt the forest and-" Dean began, but before he could finish she interrupted.
"No! They're not here to hurt the forest," She looked down and sighed. Her weariness was more prominent. It's either the forest was really old, or it was dying. "They're here for me. They won't leave and I can't get rid of them."
"Why don't you just pull some of that nature-y stuff you were doing to me?" He asked, getting to his feet and brushing off his jeans. They were his best pair too.
"I've tried but they know what they're doing. They have some sort of barrier. I'm not sure what it is, but I can't pass it, nothing can." She looked up, ghostly pale-blue eyes focusing on his face. Dean would give anything to just leave; to go find his brother but he didn't want to anger her. After all, she did almost kill him.
"I'll help you," He said, stealing a glance behind her. "But first I need to find my brother. He was by the lake." He didn't want to give her too much information.
"Go; I will keep a watchful eye on you. If you try anything funny I'll," Her face contorted in thought and when she caught Dean's grin she glared. "I'll hurt you!" Wanting to get the last word in, she vanished with a small huff.
Once she was gone, Dean ran as fast as he could back to the lake. It seemed like forever in his mind before he burst through the trees to the dirty lake bed. A heavy fog that he was sure hadn't been there before settled over the land and made it hard to see – hard to breath.
He squinted and scanned the area for anything or anyone. His landed on a small crumpled figure on the ground. His heart leaping into his throat, Dean raced across, not caring if he was walking in the slime covered water. When he reached his brother, he collapsed next to him and lifted his hands up not sure what to do.
Sam was lying on his stomach, his hands twisted outward in front of him with the side of his face pressed into the sand. Each breath his brother took made him shake. Dean laid a hand on Sam's back and gasped. It was as cold as ice. The forest guardian couldn't have done it, could she? She was capable of controlling the temperature, but the air around them was not as cold as Sam. There was no way.
Another violent shake sprung him into action.
"Sammy?" He asked, trying to be quiet even though he wanted his brother to wake. Dean brought his other hand up and pressed it against Sam's cheek; it was freezing also, giving him the feel of a corpse. "Sam," He tried again, remembering for once how much his brother hated the nickname Sammy.
Dean rolled him over and took his own jacket off to cover Sam hoping that what little heat he had would rub off. What had happened? Just ten minutes ago Sam was fine. Maybe the men that the spirit was talking about attacked him, but why would they leave him there and Sam didn't have a scratch on him.
"Sam," He tried one final time, but this time it prompted an immediate response. Sam's eyes flew open and he gasped for air as if he hadn't taken a breath in hours. He sat up quickly, causing Dean's jacket to fall off, and turned to the side as he lapsed into a coughing fit. "Easy," Dean whispered gently, laying his hand on Sam's back.
When his brother showed no signs of stopping, Dean looked to their bags to see if he brought water only to find them gone. He did a quick sweep of their surroundings to make sure that he hadn't put them somewhere else. No, they were gone – stolen. By the time he made this assessment, Sam was beginning to find some composure. He turned and sat up straighter, taking deep breath that still made him shiver.
"What happened?" Dean asked, trying to sound gentle but failing. He was never good at playing "the concerned brother."
"I don't know," Sam said wrapping his arms around himself. "I mean, I don't remember." He was obviously out of it; and Dean really didn't want to have to explain the whole forest guardian thing to him. He knew he had to though.
"Listen, I had a run in with uh," The words caught Sam's attention quickly. It unnerved him how much Sammy cared for him. They didn't show their love but Dean was positive that his brother would do anything for him. Anything. "The forest guardian. She says that there are people here that want her dead and I sorta' agreed to help her."
"We'll never find Dad," Sam said, looking down with a sigh. At least he was recovering.
"That's not true. We will, but we just have to make a few stops along the way. That's all. Now come on, we have to get back to where she was." Dean stood up and offered a hand to Sam, but his younger brother stubbornly refused it. He shrugged, not really in the mood for a fight and led the way back to the clearing.
They were almost there when Sam tapped him on the back and handed him his jacket.
"You sure?" Dean asked, not entirely confident that Sam was okay just yet.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He said, and fell back into an even step, letting Dean lead the way. Dean slid his jacket back on and let his mind wander to his brother.
Sam had changed so much. Not just from the time he was in college but more like his entire life. Dean couldn't help but wonder how Sam would've turned out if he had a different family – a different life.
A shuffle in front of him pulled him from his thoughts. A deer about 30 feet away was grazing and slowly walking. Apparently it hadn't seen them yet. Sam bumped into him and looked up.
"This the place?" He asked, looking at the deer and then looking at Dean.
"Nah, I was just looking at the deer." Dean admitted, not sure why he was embarrassed.
He always remembered when they were little and their father would take them on "hunting" trips. Sam was so fascinated by the deer.
Look, look! He would cry over and over until someone acknowledged him. Whether it be a rough grunt from their father or Dean turning and looking, Sam would never give up. Dean, Dean! Look at the dogs! They're so big. He recalled Sam saying on his first trip.
They're not dogs, Sam. Their father had said, not taking his eyes off the road.
Yeah, Sammy. They're deer. He could still see Sam's awe-stricken eyes glaze over in thought as he pressed himself into the glass to get a better look. Sometimes he missed that Sam - the one that didn't know about all of the bad things in the world; the one that hadn't experienced half of them.
Sam had cried on his first trip. Sure, they had prepared him with loads of information and pictures, but seeing was just too much for him. What surprised him was that when his little brother was freaking out as the beast stalked towards them, instead of running to their dad, he had run to Dean. It had shocked him and kept him up at night more than any monster would.
They both looked at the deer until it finally noticed them and leapt through the thick weeds.
They arrived at the place a few minutes later and Dean leaned against a tree.
"Is it coming?" Sam asked looking around.
"I think so. We might have to wait a little bit though." They sat in silence, listening to the trees creaking around them until Sam walked over to the tree and looked at Dean.
"There's something here." He said cryptically.
"Duh, camp of people; forest guardian."
"No, something else. Dad wrote about something in his journal and it was not the forest spirit. We know about those and we don't hunt them. I think it was whatever attacked me." Sam said, sliding to a sitting position. Dean did the same.
"Do you remember what happened?" He asked, wanting some kind of clue as to what they were dealing with besides humans.
"Not much. Just that it was really cold," Sam said solemnly. "Something touched me, on my shoulder I think." He added in. Dean didn't respond. He couldn't think of anything to say. The only thing that went through his mind was how grateful he was that whatever it was hadn't killed his brother. But why? It must have had the perfect chance.
A rush of wind blew through the leaves and the guardian appeared. She didn't say anything about Sam and Dean could tell she was strictly business now.
"Follow me,"
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Oh man, this is going to be a wee bit longer than I originally anticipated. Sorry. I hope everyone liked this chapter and I am sorry for the delay on it!