THROUGH FIRE AND WATER
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Summary: When things go sideways on a wendigo hunt, one brother might literally have to go through fire and water to save the other. Hurt!Boys.
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Author's note: I started writing this story by the end of 2018. I think it's about time I finished it! This will be the first of two chapters.
- Elisa.
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"When you have been burned by fire once, you don't leap into the flames again."
- Jodi Picoult, "Between the Lines"
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"I just don't get it." Sam said. "What's a wendigo doing this close to the shore? I thought they preferred to hunt in the woods."
"Beats me." Dean replied and turned on his flashlight with a click of his thumb. "But one thing is for sure; this SOB will be done snacking on people once we get our hands on it."
Dean heard Sam hum in agreement while he used the beam of his flashlight to examine the small entrance of the sea cave in front of him. It didn't look too narrow, but it would probably still be a bitch to enter it. Especially given the fact that the top of the entrance only reached Dean mid-thigh, which meant they'd have to crawl their way into it. While contemplating his next move, Dean could hear Sam stomping his feet behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder to check on his little brother. Sam had turned on his own flashlight and, through the beam of it, Dean saw the white puffs of air as his brother exhaled. Sam's hair was wet and plastered to his face, the tips of it dripping, and his cheeks and nose had turned a nice shade of pinkish-red. Only thing missing at this point was teeth chattering, and the paternal side of Dean worried his brother would get sick if they didn't get moving soon.
Beside them, waves crashed into large rocks, sending cascades of drizzling sea water over the two of them. A steep cliff side was looming above them – the edge of it so high up that it was impossible to tell where it ended in the fading daylight. Dean shuddered and pulled at the collar of his jacket to shield himself from the cold, salty wind. A couple of crying seagulls circled around a nest in a crevice somewhere above the cave, and Dean scowled at them – then at the amount of bird poop covering the sandy ground.
"You sure this is the right place?"
Sam crouched down, illuminating the narrow cave entrance with the beam of his flashlight. "It's the only place that makes sense."
Dean glanced at the dark entrance, not particularly looking forward to crawl inside it.
"You could be wrong though." He murmured.
Sam's lips formed into a thin line. His brother gave him what Dean would describe as a classic bitch face, and Dean raised his hands in mock surrender before facing the entrance of the cave once more.
To be fair, he knew that Sam hadn't dragged them out there based on a few assumptions. If there was one thing he could count on, it was Sam's remarkable research skills and his obsession with double-checking everything. Dean's comment was just a result of being tired and in a bad mood. Sighing heavily, he decided to take the lead; he pocketed his flashlight, got down on hands and knees and carefully began to crawl into the cave while his brother lit the way. A few feet inside, the cave widened enough for Dean to drop down from a small ledge and stand upright. Instead of hitting solid ground though, his boots sank into what seemed to be about an inch of cold water. Dean groaned miserably as he felt it soak the bottom of his jeans.
"Son of a bitch…" He grumbled irritably before clicking his flashlight back on. "Sam, there's water down here!"
"What did you expect, Dean? We're right next to the ocean." Sam slid into the cave beside him with a splash.
"Hey!" Dean exclaimed.
"What?" Sam grunted, seemingly unaware of his part in Dean's now drenched jeans.
His brother was already moving further into the cave, flashlight beam dancing between the damp cave walls and reflecting in the dark water.
"Never mind."
Dean soon fell into stride with Sam. At first, the passage was too narrow for them to walk side by side but, the further they walked, the wider it became. The sound of their boots trekking through the water echoed with every step they took. Flashlights on and flare guns ready, they kept their conversations to a minimum to avoid drawing attention from the wendigo as they searched for its lair.
Several people had disappeared from the area of a national park nearby – one of them a friend of Jody Mills. She'd called Sam yesterday and, since they'd just finished a changeling hunt merely an hour out, he and Dean had started working the new case straight away. They were both a little tired and on edge though. Dean still had a headache from when he'd been thrown into a wall by a changeling girl, and he noticed Sam was still limping from the nosedive he'd taken down a flight of stairs.
When we're done here, we're getting some R&R.
As soon as Dean had the thought, he smiled humorlessly and shook his head. When had he and Sam ever been able to relax for more than a day or two - tops? There would always be people to save and monsters to hunt. It was an ungrateful job to be honest, but Dean knew that the world was a safer place because of him and his brother.
"Wow…" Sam's low voice drew Dean's attention back to the present, and he stopped up next to his brother to see what Sam had reacted to.
They'd moved out of the cave tunnel and ended up on some sort of ledge. Dean was looking at what appeared to be a huge chamber in front of them. It was quiet in there, except for the distant sound of dripping water. From far up above, a sliver of moonlight slipped through the stalactites hanging from the ceiling and illuminated the center of the room. Dean turned his head and looked at Sam, and his floppy-haired brother returned the gesture.
"Wow indeed." Dean whispered. "How are we gonna get down from here?"
Dean leaned forward to peek over the edge. He estimated he was looking at an about fifty feet drop into a basin of murky water. Dean knew they carried rope in their backpacks. If he could find something to tie the loop around, he and Sam could probably use it to rappel their way down the steep cave wall.
"There's a small trail over here."
Dean turned his head to see Sam approach a very narrow trail along one of the cliff walls. Following Sam's lead, Dean carefully made his way down the path while using the rocky wall as support. He cursed when loose pebbles rattled down the cliff side and into the water underneath them. If the wendigo was nearby, they could kiss goodbye the element of surprise.
Once at the bottom of the trail, they continued to walk along the narrow edge of dark water until an opening appeared on their right. Entering it cautiously, Dean soon realized it led to an adjoining chamber – though it appeared to be a smaller one and, unlike the previous room; there didn't seem to be any water around.
"Dean." Sam suddenly whispered in alarm and Dean was instantly alert.
The beam of his brother's flashlight illuminated the pale face of what appeared to be a middle-aged woman. Her head was hanging low, eyes closed. As their flashlights lit up more of the surroundings, they discovered three more people. All four of them were strung up by ropes; hands suspended above their heads and their feet dangling freely a few inches over the ground.
Dean's wrists tingled with a phantom sensation as images of himself in the same position years ago flashed before his eyes. Shaking the feeling and flashback away, and without having to verbally communicate with his brother, Dean moved closer to whom he assumed were the missing people they were looking for. Sam did the same thing beside him. Reaching the woman first, Dean checked for a pulse with one hand while pulling out his knife with the other one.
"N-no. Please, no." The woman whimpered weakly. Her red curls bounced when she tried to shy away from him.
"Hey hey, I'm not gonna hurt you." Dean kept his voice low as he cut the ropes, not wanting to draw the wendigo's attention. "We're here to help."
The woman squinted at him warily – then groaned when her ropes were cut. Dean caught her as she fell forward, wincing in sympathy as he took in the pained sounds she made. Her arms and shoulders were probably hurting like a bitch from the strain of being strung up for however long the wendigo had kept her there.
"What's your name?" Dean asked her as he lowered her to the ground and squatted before her.
"M-Meredith." The woman stuttered, eyes wet as she returned the gaze.
"It's gonna be alright, Meredith. We're gonna get you out of here." He reassured.
"Are you Jeremy Carlson - Jody's friend?" Dean heard his brother ask.
"Yes." A male voice replied, and Dean turned his head to see Sam cutting loose a large, bearded man. Taking in his plaid shirt and red suspenders, he kinda reminded Dean of a lumberjack version of Bobby Singer.
"Who are you?"
"I'm Sam. This is my brother, Dean." Sam replied and waved in Dean's direction. "Did you see the thing that took you?"
"Yes." Carlson rubbed his wrists. "It… I know this sounds crazy, but I don't think it was human."
Dean shared a look with Sam.
"It's not crazy at all, I'm afraid. It's called a wendigo, and we should hurry up and get out of here before it returns." Dean said.
Carlson's face seemed to lose a few more shades of color.
"Shit! Gary!" The big guy suddenly exclaimed and started patting the cheeks of the unconscious young man hanging from the ropes next to him.
"Keep your voice down." Dean warned and glanced warily over his shoulder for any signs of the wendigo.
While Dean started cutting Gary's ropes, he guessed the man was probably in his late twenties, early thirties. The slaps to his cheeks had the right effect. As Gary roused, Carlson took care of him while Dean helped Meredith back up. The fourth victim, a grey-haired man whom Sam had cut down and laid out on the ground, had a big gaping hole in his chest. Dean didn't need a ph.d. to know the man was stone-cold dead. Sam sent him a miserable look and Dean shook his head in response. There was nothing they could do for the old guy now. They would have to leave him and get the three other people out of there before the wendigo returned for a midnight snack.
"Come on, we gotta go." Dean took the lead with Meredith propped against his side.
A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that the others were following behind him; Carlson supporting a very groggy-looking Gary, while Sam guarded their backs. His brother held his flashlight and flare gun in a steady grip, eyes vigilant. If they were lucky (which they rarely were) they'd make it all the way out of the sea cave before the wendigo realized its captives were missing. Then, of course, he and Sam still needed to return to kill the creature before it took any more lives. So even if they did make it out unscathed, Dean knew he and Sam still had a job to do before they could uncap a couple of cool ones and watch shitty cable tv.
They'd made it halfway up the narrow trail leading up to the ledge when an inhuman growl reverberated between the walls of the cave. Meredith screamed and Dean snapped his head up to see the wendigo towering above them, cutting off their escape route. Pushing the terrified woman behind him, Dean took quick aim and fired his flare gun at the large monster.
It was a pretty good shot. However, the wendigo reacted immediately. It threw itself to the side and into the murky water – missing Dean's flare by mere inches.
"Damn it!" Dean cursed, reaching into his pocket for another round to quickly reload the gun.
"Go! Go! Get out of here!" Sam shouted, urging the three victims to hurry up the trail while intensely watching the water below.
The wendigo had yet to reappear, but Dean knew it would only be a matter of seconds before the creature returned with a vengeance. Meredith, Carlson and Gary made a run for it – as fast as the rough and uneven coating beneath their feet allowed at least. One of the men waved a flashlight in his hand, which Dean briefly noted Sam must have handed over so the three of them had a chance to find their way out of the sea cave on their own. His damn brilliant little brother always thought of everyth-
A heavy force slammed into Dean's side – effectively knocking him off his feet and banging him into the cliff wall at the same time. He heard Sam shout his name half a second before white-hot pain exploded in his head as one side of his face collided with something very solid. Dean's vision blackened for a few agonizing seconds. He felt like he was being crushed underneath his attacker – then gulped in large mouthfuls of air as the heavy weight on his back suddenly lifted.
Dean thought he heard Sam shout his name once more, but it was difficult to hear from the ringing in his ears and the jackhammer doing construction work inside his head. Trying to shake off the dizziness, Dean was aware of warm, sticky liquid coating one side of his face. Blood, without a doubt.
"Sam…"
The sounds of someone struggling bounced between the solid cliff walls. Knowing his brother needed him, Dean pushed himself up on his knees – swaying a little in the process. He reached out to the solid wall next to him, using it for support as he slowly (too slowly, damn it!) got to his feet.
While Dean desperately tried to locate his gun and his brother in the dim cave, his hand suddenly slipped on the slick stone - which almost made him lose his balance once more. Something dark was smeared on his hand and Dean looked at it with a confused frown.
At first, he'd believed the cave wall was slippery because of the water, but his fingers came away covered in what appeared to be smelly, black goo. Dean knew that smell - and it sure wasn't ectoplasm. He had original thought the pitch-black surface of the water was an effect of the darkness of the cave. Now Dean realized it had nothing to do with the dim light. He had a vague memory of the article Sam had read aloud from this morning; something about an oil tanker springing leak near the coastline. Judging from the smeared walls and dark water, some of the oil must have found its way into the cave.
Dean's instincts suddenly went on red alert, and he rushed down the narrow trail in search of Sam. His heart dropped instantly when he located his brother - just in time to see Sam aim at the wendigo and pull the trigger of his flare gun.
"Sammy, don't!" Dean shouted in panic as he sprinted towards his brother.
But it was too late.
The flare hit its target perfectly, which on any other day would have made Dean feel proud as hell. Now, as the flames erupted from the center of the wendigo's chest and quickly spread through its body, Dean felt nothing but dread.
"Sam! Sam, get out of the water!"
Sam looked his way with a confused expression for a moment - then down at the water. Dean could tell the exact second Sam came to the same realization as he did. Eyes widening, Sam took off running towards Dean as fast as the knee-high water allowed him. Behind him, the Wendigo crumbled into the oily-water, and flames immediately lit up the surface.
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TBC…