I still have no rights to these characters
Supernatural
Jefferson Michaels hated everything to do with nature; it was as simple as that. He hated the smell, he hated how every fricking tree looked exactly the same, the fact that creepy ass animals lurked in the corner waiting for someone to show weakness so they can attack, and it didn't help that most creatures of the supernatural origin seemed to find forests to be the perfect frigging place to dwell: especially wendigos. Jeff hated wendigos.
But he was willing to put all hatreds of the woods aside if… "Lost yet," his brother's voice crackled from his shirt pocket. If Josh wasn't with him.
Pulling his radio out of his pocket, picturing his brother strung up by his balls over a pit of hungry lions, he replied, "Shut up."
"Harsh words, Jeffy Poo," Josh said, sounding like he was twelve, using the nickname their grandmother always used to use. Jefferson hated that name.
"Do you want me to shoot you," Jeff asked through clenched teeth.
"Oh, you are so adorable when you're mad," Josh cracked in a baby voice. He chuckled, switching back to his regular voice he said, "Remember, Jeffy Poo, that the flare won't really be seen until it gets darker."
Jeff pointed his pistol at the radio, miming shooting the crap out of his brother. Taking a deep breath, putting the gun back in his inside coat pocket, he put the radio back to his lips and said, "Where's Singer? I'm surprised he let little baby Joshua hold the radio. Did you throw a tantrum?"
"Ha, ha," Josh retorted sarcastically. "Bobby went ahead to check out a path, told me to wait here."
"He does realize you are in your thirties, right?"
"You know, Singer. He has a hard time letting go of the past. He still sees us as the two kids he met so very long ago. Hell, he still sees Sam and Dean as the two little boys he met twenty-one years ago."
"But don't you, too?" Jeff asked slowly, letting his eyes downcast to the ground out of habit. He hated sharing his emotions, even worse than the Winchester boys.
"Yeah," Josh replied quietly. "Of course. Dean will always be that eight-year-old that always tried to sneak into the back of the Impala before John could leave for a hunt. And Sam, well Sammy will always be the little four year old that asked all those questions. You remember?"
"I met them a few years before you, so I remember the Sam who only asked one question…"
"Can I have a juice box," Josh said with Jeff.
"Those were the only six words he uttered to me for an entire year."
"Did you ever get him a juice box?" Josh asked a smile in his voice.
"When we were at Pastor Jim's and Bobby's I did," Jeff replied. "Caleb always drank the entire pack the week before the boys came over and I wasn't the type to carry a cooler of Juicy Juice around."
"Beer maybe, but juice for a poor, thirsty two-year-old… never." There was silence for a quarter of a second, and then Josh asked, "Why would he ask you for a juice box? He could have asked Bobby, Jim, Caleb, Dean, anyone. Why you?"
"That's how I broke the ice with him, I offered him a juice. His trust was easier to get than his brother's. Small Fry rarely let his brother out of his sight when I was around for that first year. It took saving his father's life to get him to fully warm up to me."
They were silent for a couple of minutes, the sounds of the forest the only noise heard, and then Josh said, "I hope we find them."
"Yeah, me too," Jeff agreed as he started to pace back and forth.
"Johnny would never forgive us if we lose his boys."
"Then we won't," Jeff said hoping he sounded more optimistic than he felt. "We'll get them back, alive and whole." He continued to pace, getting closer and closer to a tree.
"And if they've been hurt?"
"Okay, then alive. Jeez, do you always have to be so thor…" Jeff cut off when he felt the ground give way from underneath his feet. The radio fell out of his hand, landing with a soft flop on the ground, and he let out a strangled cry of surprise. Down, down, down he fell landing on the hard earth below.
SUPERNATURAL
"Jeff, Jefferson," Josh said trying to get a reply from his brother. "Jefferson this is not funny. Jeff, answer me."
"What's going on," Bobby asked coming around the corner.
"I was talking to Jeff and he just cut off," Josh replied still trying to get a hold of his brother.
"Of course he did, you probably pissed him off," Bobby replied taking his hat off to scratch his head.
"No, we weren't fighting. He might be in trouble…" Josh started to turn around, ready to go after his brother, but Bobby grabbed his shoulder and said, "Jefferson is a big boy, if he got into any trouble he can get out of it. And if he really is in trouble, he has a pistol and a flare gun. We'll know. Now, come on. We've gotta keep looking for the boys." Bobby began to walk away from Josh, heading the way he came. Instead of following, Joshua looked behind him. They had only been walking for almost an hour, Jeff wasn't too far away.
"Bobby," he called causing the older hunter to stop and turn around. He tossed the radio at the older man, Bobby snatching it out of thin air. "Keep going, I'm going after Jeff."
"Fine, but call when you find him." Bobby continued on his path, mumbling, "Damn idgit probably ended up tripping over a root into a lake." Josh smiled slightly and started running back the way they had come. Hoping beyond hope that Bobby was right.
SUPERNATURAL
A raindrop hit his forehead, the cool liquid running down his face. Three more hit his face before he came to. His side was on fire; his leg throbbed with every heartbeat. He wasn't quite sure where he was, or how he had gotten there, but he heard someone talking close by.
"…do with them?" an unfamiliar male voice asked.
"Tie them up," a familiar female voice responded.
"Okay, sis, you're the boss." Footsteps approached Dean, thudding footsteps that sounded vaguely familiar, but before he could do anything about it his side gave a particularly nasty throb and he blacked out.
When he came to a second time, face pressed into the earthy floor of the forest, things were clearer. He remembered slamming into someone, someone built like a brick wall, someone who he suspected was his brother. Sometimes he really wished Sam was still seven and tiny, unable to knock him to the ground without even trying. Unable to knock him out without even trying; that would be ideal, Dean thought trying to sit up.
There were, however, a few problems with his attempt. One: his hands were tied behind his back, unable to help him push himself up. Two: he was tied to someone else, someone whose hands were practically holding his, and someone who was most definitely Sam and obviously unconscious. Three: with his injuries and unconscious brother tied to him, weighing 180 at the most and all deadweight, he wasn't getting anywhere. So, he was stuck lying on the ground, sticks, leaves, and quite possibly animal droppings grinding into his face. First animal pee, and now their feces. I am totally never camping again.
Dean tried to tap Sam's hand with his own, but moving his arm sent a sharp pain through his side and he groaned involuntarily. He stayed perfectly still, trying to get the pain to calm down. Somewhere above him, hovering like an annoying insect, a female voice said, "I think he's awake."
"Nina, you bitch," he said into the dirt. His voice was muffled, but he knew she knew what he said.
"Oh, Dean," Nina said as he was pulled up by another set of hands. The other party threw him into a rock, knocking the air out of him, causing Sam's head to flop to the side and land on his shoulder.
"Ethan, please be nice to our guests," Nina said slowly walking around to crouch next to the older Winchester. It was his first glimpse of her, shadows notwithstanding. She had sandy blond hair, her actual hair color. Her gray-blue eyes, accompanying a coldness Dean had never seen before in a human (Gordon he didn't count as fully human), were looking at him with both amusement and hatred. She was pale, looking almost like a drowning victim without the water and death, and she had a certain aura around her that clearly screamed she had no conscience and was proud of it. Never before had Dean felt so chary toward a girl, even intimidated. Even Cassie couldn't accomplish that.
But, like he always did in a dangerous and unpredictable situation, he hid his real emotions and jacked up the cockiness. "I hope your monkey gets his kicks while he still can because I will kill him when I get free."
"Did you hear him, Ethan? He actually thinks he has a chance against fighting you." Nina chuckled, almost like the idea was the most ludicrous thing she had ever heard. Dean wanted nothing more than to shove her head through a window (or a brick wall).
"Why don't you untie me and we'll find out."
"Oh, sweetie," Nina started grabbing his leg wound and squeezing. Dean bit his lip, trying to keep from screaming. Blinding, white hot pain erupted through his leg. Nina let his leg go, patting just below the knee, and said, "You probably can't stand long enough to even fight."
"Besides," Ethan started standing just to the side of Dean, just out of eyeshot, "running probably took a lot out of him. Ms. Winchester chose to flee instead of fight."
"Shut up," Dean snapped trying to see what the guy looked like. There was no doubt he was big, if the thundering footsteps that chased him through the woods were any indication. But size didn't always matter; he had taken bigger things down without breaking much of a sweat-or many bones.
Thudding footsteps approached him, a shovel like fist slamming into his face. Blood slowly started leaking from his nose, trickling across his lips. Dean sniffed, feeling blood start to run down his throat, and said, "Is that all you've got, Monkey?" A foot flew at the side of his head, but stopped when Nina screamed, "Ethan, calm down."
"Nina, untie him," Ethan exclaimed. A groan mixed in with his voice, almost inaudible. Dean felt Sam move, trying to get free.
"Relax, Sammy, we won't be going anywhere," Dean whispered to his brother, watching the two siblings argue over Ethan's actions. Ethan was, in fact, bigger than both Sam and Dean combined.
"What happened," Sam asked groggily.
"We ran into each other. My God, you could pass as a frigging speeding vehicle."
"Well, you aren't exactly a fluffy pillow," Sam retorted shaking his head to clear it.
"Good point," Dean replied as Nina and Ethan turned to them.
"Oh, look who's awake," Nina said sounding overjoyed that someone else had joined her game.
"I don't care about the younger one. It's the older one I want," Ethan snapped spraying spittle at Dean. He glared at Dean with a pair of cold green eyes, eyes that once held amusement; amusement that had been lost from murdering so many people.
"I don't roll that way, man," Dean said glaring up at the guy.
"Nina," Ethan snapped kicking at Dean, too far away to actually hit him.
"Fine, fine. I'll cut him loose for you," Nina said and walked toward Dean. She crouched next to his hands, extracting a knife from her pocket. She sliced through the rope and jumped up. She was gone from his side in seconds, her gargantuan brother filling the space she just vacated.
"Hi," Ethan said and hauled Dean to his feet. The sudden movement had his side screaming at him. Before Dean could start fighting, or even try to push his pain aside, he was thrown into a tree. The wind was knocked out of him as he landed on the ground.
"I really hate you," Ethan commented throwing a stray kick at Dean. He rolled to the side, pain shooting through his leg as he landed a few inches from Ethan's swinging leg.
"Hate is such a strong word," Dean said pulling himself painfully to his feet. He kept the palm of his hand on a tree, keeping himself from falling over. His right leg was shaking like crazy, pretty much telling him to sit or risk collapsing.
Instead of responding to the older Winchester's comment, Ethan threw his entire body weight into a tackle. Dean pushed himself from the tree, barely missing Ethan's attack. He tripped over his own feet, falling to the ground again.
"Klutzy, klutzy hunter," Nina commented as she leaned against a rock. She looked so entertained, obviously getting off somehow on the fight.
"Shut up," Dean snapped as he was pulled up by his arm. His appendage was pulled behind his back, Ethan kicking his knees out from under him. Easily the older Winchester fell to the ground, the impact jolting his already throbbing leg.
"I normally strangle my victims," Ethan stated pushing Dean onto his stomach. He squeezed harder on the hunter's wrist, the bone dangerously close to breaking. Pressing his knee into Dean's back, leaning over to get close to his ear, the bigger guy whispered, "But you deserve something much worse."
Dean felt the cold metal of a gun press into the back of his head. Above the two hunters, the sky opened up and began to pour. Almost like the gods (existing or not) were crying for Dean's safety.
"Any last words, Winchester," Ethan asked pulling the hammer back. Even if Dean had a response, he couldn't say anything. Ethan's knee was blocking any air he may or may not have had. Closing his eyes, waiting for the gunshot to fill the air and the bullet to pierce his skull, Dean couldn't help thinking, Please don't send me to hell.
Then the weight left him, he was suddenly free. He scrambled to sit up, gazing over to see Sam and Ethan struggling to get up. The gun had fallen from Ethan's hand, lying a few inches from Dean. He tried to grab it, but another gunshot rang out causing him to pull his hand away quickly. He looked over at Nina, who was holding his own colt and glaring at him.
"You'd better help little brother," she snarled as her gaze fell onto Ethan and Sam. Dean's head snapped back to the two struggling hunters, his eyes widening when he saw what was going on.
Ethan had his hands wrapped around Sam's neck, his brother's face red. Dean scrambled to his feet, ignoring any and all pain, and rushed toward the pair. He tried to pry Ethan off his brother, but the blond hunter-without even looking up at Dean-threw one fist out and slammed it into Dean's stomach.
The older Winchester felt the air leave his lungs again. He caught himself before he could fall to his knees, and attempted, again, to rescue Sam from Ethan's strangling hold. Slowly, Sam began to turn blue. Dean barely touched Ethan's arm when he was hit again, harder than the first time, and flew back a few inches.
He slammed into a tree, the back of his head meeting the bark, and landed on his right side. Everything was going black, his vision overtaken by a sea of black dots. The last thing he heard before passing out were three pops followed by silence.