A/N: Just borrowing the characters. Please Read and Review, but most of all enjoy!
WENDIGO:
He would not let some monster keep his brother. No way in hell. He was going to drag this good for nothing teenager who was seemingly attached to his heels around the forest all freaking night if that's what it took.
He was going to save Dean. There was simply no other option.
Sam was worried. Scared out of his God Forsaken mind. He hadn't been this worried in about seven years. Not since the last time Dean got hurt.
They'd been up in the Rocky Mountains, where exactly Sam couldn't remember. He'd been going through his "I'm too cool for this family" phase so he hadn't really listened to all of John's rants. Though he remembered the look on Dean's face as he clung to his father's every word. Complete and utter adoration. Dean had always looked at his father that way. In Dean's eyes the man could no wrong.
In Sam's he could do no right.
They had been hunting a man who they believed was possessed by a demon. He was roaming the mountains capturing hikers and sacrificing them in not too pleasant fashions. All they had to do was destroy the sacred Aztec sacrificial rock and then the curse and the demon would be damned back to hell forever. John said it would be easy… of course nothing ever is for the Winchesters.
John had gone off to find the demon and left his sons to the simple task of somehow destroying the stone. Sam had covered it in salt and Dean had drenched it in holy water. Of course you couldn't burn a rock… well you could try but it wouldn't do anything to it.
They'd been this close to throwing their hands up in defeat and calling for Dad when something had grabbed Sam and slammed him forward against the rock. Dean, being the big brother he is, jumped into bodyguard mode.
Dean knelt down and helped his little brother to his feet, checking the gash on his forehead and stepping in front of him to protect him from their invisible attacker.
"Stay behind me, Sammy." Dean hissed and readied his gun. Of course the fifteen year old didn't want to argue with his nineteen year old brother, knowing full well who could kick whose ass.
"Where is it?" Sam had whispered back, staying close to his brother. That's when he felt the invisible hands again. "Dean!" He yelped as he got pulled back and held by invisible ropes against a tree. He saw Dean also struggling against the invisible force.
"Sam!" Dean yelled, trying to break free to help his little brother. The hands forced him down onto the sacrificial rock. He, smartly, directed his attention away from Sam for a moment and focused on his own hide which was about to get ripped to pieces by an ancient Aztec artifact. It resembled an arrowhead… only much sharper and rough. "Son of a…" Dean grumbled and fought wildly.
"No! Dean!" Sam yelled. "Dad! Dad, help!" Sam yelled at the top of his asthmatic lungs. Something clamped over his mouth and he could no longer yell, or breathe well for that matter. As the arrowhead drew closer to his brother all Sam could do was watch.
By some incredible bout of strength Dean was able to reach the gun with rock salt bullets and shoot in the direction of the arrowhead. A dark figure blurred into view and Dean smiled triumphantly. "Gotcha, you bastard." Dean said with his trademark wise-ass smirk. The hands fell away from Sam and he dropped to his knees on the ground. But Dean was still on the rock, and the figure was still holding the arrowhead.
With a war cry the figure brought down the arrowhead, straight into Dean's abdomen. Dean cried out and Sam scrambled to his feet, grabbed the shotgun and shot at the figure until it fled. Tears streaming down his face he ran to the rock and climbed next to his brother.
"Dean… Dean… you're going to be fine." Sam assured him. Dean had his eyes closed, his hands pressed strongly over the wound, but he nodded. Pushing aside all the pain he smiled at his brother and Sam was reassured.
"G…go fi… find Da… Dad." He was taking short gasps in between each word because it hurt to breathe. Sam shook his head. "Sam, I'm going… going to ble… bleed out if you d… don't find Dad." Dean explained. Sam had taken off before Dean had even finished the sentence.
Sam had found him pretty easily. He heard someone yelling in Latin and unworldly screams and it was a safe bet John Winchester was close to the ruckus. He'd grabbed his father's hand, not stopping to explain the blood all over him and dragged him to where Dean was attempting to stand.
He had stood there, watching his brother bleed to death slowly and his father trying to staunch the blood flow and carry him to the car at the same time, and felt completely and utterly helpless.
Kind of like he did now.
But he sure as hell wasn't just going to stand around this time.
He needed Dean right now. More than he'd ever needed anyone before. Really, Dean was all that was keeping him from blowing his head off with the .45 his Dad had given him to protect him from the monsters in the dark.
Same thing as the monsters in his head, right?
Dean had protected him from those monsters in the dark then and he was protecting Sam from his inner monsters now. He wasn't ready to face them alone. He wasn't sure if he ever would be.
But he definitely wasn't now.
He was not going to let some monster have his brother.
No way in hell.