Chapter 5: Desperation

Sam checked the forecast app on his phone. It said that rain was 90% likely in the next hour. He leaned over to whisper in Dean's ear, "So now what the hell are we going to do? This thing's a lot brighter than the last one and we don't exactly have the upper hand."

"I don't know. We know it hates fire, right? Maybe we can do something with that?"

"We have a couple of flares and lighter fluid, but with the rain coming it won't last long enough to keep it at bay until morning when we could at least have a decent shot at hitting it."

"I have an idea." Dean pulled out his phone and started texting.

"No, we said we wouldn't get him involved." Sam went to grab the phone, but Dean slapped his hand away.

"Do you have a better idea? This thing is watching us, waiting for the ring to wash away and given that it's bound to start pouring any time now, we need to."

Sam sighed, relenting that in this case he didn't have an idea, and hoped that Mike would make it in time.

Back at home Mike was busy cleaning up the living room when his phone buzzed. It was a text from Dean:

Mike, this is Dean. Popcorn, or whatever the hell that codeword was. We're in deep shit with the wendigo. We need you to start a forest fire.

Mike stared at the text for a minute before rubbing his eyes to make sure he had read it correctly. A forest fire? Were they insane? How could he possibly do that?

He quickly texted back:

Okay, how am I supposed to do that? Also, don't get me wrong, I want to help, but isn't that like, SUPER illegal?

A few seconds later Dean replied:

Remember that twenty gallon tank of pesticides? They'd better be flammable. And yes. Ninety percent of hunting is doing things that are.

A few minutes later Mike had the tank loaded in his car and his kids next door with the Johnsons-I have a family emergency, can you watch the boys?-he prayed he could do this. After speeding through every stop sign on the way he pulled into the park, quickly unloading the tank onto its carrying cart. At home he had attached a lighter to the nozzle, so when he sprayed it ignited the pesticide and acted as a flamethrower. He dragged it to the woods edge and started to spray, following Dean's direction to make a line along the trail so that the beast would be forced away from them and they might have a chance to make it out running. Hopefully it would catch enough under growth to last the storm's beginning. Mike doubted he could get to Sam and Dean and back before it started to rain.

"Rain should be here any minute. Last chance you bastard! Show yourself and die with dignity!" Dean shouted, nervously eyeing the darkening sky.

"Dean, I really don't think antagonizing this thing is going to help us. If the rain gets here before Mike I really don't want something both pissed off and having razor sharp claws and teeth to attack me."

"Ugh, don't say that."

"What?"

"You know what. I haven't gone in hours."

"Wait, you're still holding it from earlier? That was like, half an hour ago."

"Well I don't want to go if that thing's watching." Dean almost blushed, but instead simply scowled angrily at how his bladder felt like an overfilled water balloon.

"Wait, you're afraid of a wendigo seeing your…"

"Shut up! Not all of us want monsters to see our, y'know." Dean angrily remarked, referring to Sam having slept with both a demon and a werewolf on separate occasions.

Sam rolled his eyes and felt a small drop on his forehead. The rain was here.

Mike had just finished climbing the red trail when he branched off to the double yellow. The fire was spreading rapidly, so much so that Mike was concerned that he might be caught in the blaze. There was only a mile left until the path that led to the spring house, which meant the wendigo was near. Mike gulped, he had never been hunting before for something this dangerous. Hell, this thing was a level 7-he was barely qualified to handle a level 4! He steadied himself and continued to spray, nearing Sam and Dean when he felt the first drop of rain.

The circle was dug into the dirt, and as such began to turn to mud under the torrential downpour. A clap of thunder went off as a bolt of lightning lit up the sky and momentarily revealed the silhouette of the wendigo in a tree looking at the Winchesters.

"We are so boned." Dean held out a flare gun, only to be met with cruel laughter bouncing off the trees in every direction.

"If you really think that puny thing will stop me you must be kidding." The monster leapt down from the tree and approached the ring. It smirked, pointing at a scar along its side. "That is from a cherry bomb. The boy who threw it didn't survive long enough to watch me eat the rest of the friends he was protecting." It gestured, opening its arms wide. "Go ahead. Try me."

"Alright, I will." Mike shouted, shooting the flaming pesticides at the monster's face and back.

It shrieked in pain before quickly turning towards Mike, whose eyes suddenly widened to the size of dinner plates.

"No!" Sam shouted as he shot a road flare at the creature's head, temporarily blinding it and causing it to only tear at Mike's arm instead of his face. Mike jammed the nozzle of the sprayer into the wendigo's face and unleashed a cloud of fire into its mouth. The fire burned through the monster's flesh and its body collapsed onto the ground, the smell of its putrid flesh burning filling the air. After realizing he was going to live, Mike's face relaxed for a moment before he bent over to vomit.

After emptying the contents of his stomach out of fear Mike weakly wiped off his mouth before Dean came over and lifted him off the ground with a quick bear hug before quickly setting him back down.

"No chick flick moments, but you just saved our asses. You rock, dude."

"Thanks. But I think we might have another problem beyond the wendigo… the pesticides I use aren't water soluble, and I kind of sprayed a line heading straight for us." Mike sheepishly grinned, pointing at the fire still raging despite the heavy rain.

After ditching the sprayer and running like hell through the woods they made it back to the edge of the park, where the lodge had already caught fire and the field was beginning to smolder.

"Thank God the car's okay." Mike looked over to the parking lot as the three crossed the footbridge leading out of the park.

"I think we should probably call the fire department, then get you to a hospital." Sam gestured at Mike's gashed arm. It had already bled a good bit over his shirt and appeared to not want to stop any time soon.

"Sorry, with the adrenaline I really haven't felt anything after I threw up back there. But, I think that would be a good idea."

One week later and Mike's arm was mostly back to normal. It had taken thirty three stitches to close off the wound from the "feral dog", but aside from that everyone was relatively unharmed.

Sam and Dean had decided to stay a bit to make sure Mike recovered, and in the process had managed to quickly become the favorite "uncles" to Alvin and Avery.

"You sure you aren't mad that you missed your car show?" Sam snarked, lugging his bag to the back of the Impala.

"Baby's still running alright for now, and besides, there's always next year." Dean shrugged loading his bag alongside Sam's.

"Hey, before you guys go, I wanted to thank you and give you this!" Mike shouted, briskly walking toward the car, Avery and Alvin tailing behind. He held out an old Polaroid picture, dated 6/17/85. It was a picture of Mike when he was young along with his mother sitting at a backyard barbecue. On the other side of the table were Sam and Dean. "I was looking for this all over, it's a picture of us when we were little. I never had any other cousins, so it was cool to meet you guys-even if you were, like, six years younger than me."

Sam held the photo carefully, "Thanks, but are you sure you want to give this to us? I mean, it must mean a lot to you to have held onto it this long."

"Look, I have a digital copy from scanning all my pictures a few years back. Take it. Something to remember me by." He smiled. "Look, I know you guys are on a different path than I am-even if we are all tied together in this crazy world of the paranormal. But if you ever need a break or want to catch up, just text or call. My place is always open to you guys."

"Thanks. We might take you up on that." Dean smiled.

"Oh, and also, if you guys are looking for a new hunt I have a guy who I email over in Erie who's been having some weird stuff happening. I can forward them to you if you want."

"Sure. Take care, cous." Sam shook Mike's hand before Mike pulled him in for a hug, patting him on the back.

"You saved my life with that flare gun. I deserve a pass on the no chick-flick moments for that."

Sam rolled his eyes, good naturedly.

"See you, Mike." Dean shook his hand before opening the door to the car.

"Goodbye Uncle Sam, Uncle Dean." Avery hugged them both, barely reaching Dean's waist.

Mike picked up Alvin to have him at eye level to say goodbye. He instead decided to promptly kiss Dean on the forehead. After blinking twice, Dean smiled and rubbed his hair. Sam also reluctantly received a kiss before getting in the Impala.

As Dean pulled away from the curb Mike, Avery, and Alvin waved goodbye; fading into specks as the Impala drove further away down the suburban street back to the highway that would lead them to their next hunt.