Once again, no writing for ages, and I apologise, I guess. I've been busy with college work because I'm changing courses as I was failing one so now I have to do something completely different because life sucks. Anyway, in the last week it's also been my brother's birthday so I was busy with that and I watched Rise of the Guardians for the first time, so I love that film now – it's amazing! I've been just watching that for the past week.
My mum and I watched a couple of episodes from season one tonight and the boys were so cute and had no idea about too much pain and death and heartbreak and it just about did my feels in so I have to do some writing! So I'm just going to write this chapter in accordance with the one before and see how it goes. I think I need to get Sam back into Hunting, because it's what they do and I don't think Sam would want to have to stop that. He'd want to help someway. So here's the next chapter. I'm just going to wing it, so just go with it.
Anyway, onwards. Enjoy and please review!
Dean sighed, tapping the edge of his shot glass half filled with whiskey. It was the early hours of the morning but he couldn't sleep. Since Sam had gone to bed, Dean had been sitting at Bobby's table, researching the hunt that had been mentioned yesterday.
He was troubled because it was in his blood and mind to follow this hunt, to kill whatever was doing it - the family business. And he equally knew Sam would feel the same. But now... Sam just couldn't hunt any more. After all they had been through, surely they had given enough? They had full right to retire now - leave the hunting to others.
Of course, Dean knew that if he mentioned the hunt to Bobby, he would immediately suggest that either he go and complete it, or Dean go and he would look after Sam, or the both of them go and Sam stay in the house - which wouldn't happen. Sam would never agree to that.
Dean sighed and blinked back tears, supporting his arms on the table with his elbows and grinding his palms into his wet eyes. The simple mention of a hunt made Sam panic and almost go into a seizure; Hannah had alerted, but that was what she was for. And she was amazing.
No doubt, given the chance, she would be a great hunting dog. But that wasn't what she was for. She was a Service Dog for Sam, to help the younger Winchester live his life as normally as possible despite the disabilities he now had.
Normal. What a ridiculous word. As if a Winchester could live a normal life. The very idea almost made Dean want to punch Fate in the face. Which he literally and figuratively should have done that day they met her.
"What's wrong?"
Dean jumped about a mile, standing up suddenly, his chair falling over with a bang, and hastily looking for a weapon, blinking tears and weariness out of his eyes. After a second he processed the voice and realised that Sam was standing in front of him, staring at him with a worried expression which told him that there was no point lying to his brother any more.
The older Winchester sighed, picked up his chair, the scraping of which made Sam flinch in surprise, and more gracefully than he had stood up, sat back down, picking up his glass and eyeing his little brother.
Sam waited a second and, hearing no response or other noises, asked questioningly, "well?"
Dean sighed. "Sit down," he invited, getting up again, gently this time, and pulling the chair around the other side of the table out and waiting, watching carefully as Sam felt for the back of the chair, then carefully sat down, expectantly facing where Dean's chair was. Dean touched Sam briefly on the shoulder to let him know he was there, and then sat back down.
Taking a deep breath, Dean just went for it; "I know you, Sam, and I know that you don't want to stop being, say, a Winchester, because of all this. Nothing else keeps us down for long, but this, it's just-"
"Yeah. I know. But I want in. I want to carry on. I can do it. It sound stupid, and I know all your instinct tell you not to let me, but I want to do it." Sam stared determinedly at Dean, and then his expression softened as he sensed Dean's stunned hesitation. "Please, Dean. You've seen the other things we've ever done. We don't let things stop us. We're the Winchesters." Sam almost smiled sadly. "Family business, remember?" he finished quietly, looking down at the table.
Stunned, Dean could just stare at his baby brother. So brave, so determined. It took his back to one time, when Sam was just eight years old; it was winter and had snowed and he had fallen over on some ice on his way to their school of the month.
"It's hurts, D," Sammy sniffs, rubbing his eyes fiercely, trying to stop more tears coming. Dad always told them that crying was weak, that they didn't have time for it.
Dean crouches down next to his little brother and ruffles his hair.
"I know, kiddo, but it'll be alright. We'll take you back and tell dad and -"
"No, Dean. Daddy says we can't let things like this stop us. We gotta carry on."
The eight year old's eyes are bright with tears and pain, but he is determined. He will carry on.
The same determined look faced Dean across the table now, years and years and too much terrible pain later from that day in the snow.
Dean downed the rest of the alcohol in his glass and put it down loudly on the table. This time, despite not seeing it coming, Sam didn't even flinch. His unseeing but piercing gaze seemed to watch Dean's expression.
He looked down at the table, then back at Sam, fresh determination replacing the weakness of before. Dean nodded. "In a few months... yes. We'll do it."
Dean Winchester wasn't one to back down on his words. If he said something he usually meant it, and especially when he promised his brother something.
So two months after their conversation - the time full of training with Hannah and getting used to her; having assessments and hospital appointments and various checks – Sam walked into the kitchen where Dean was sitting and drinking, as that was now a usual occurrence.
He cleared his throat and Dean looked up.
"Straight forward, about 5 steps," he replied automatically, watching as Sam obeyed his instructions, put his hand out to feel for the edge of the chair, found it and sat down. Only once he was sat down did Dean relax his watching.
Sam leaned forward towards Dean, and he frowned, wondering what his little brother had to say.
"I haven't told Bobby anything, but the other day I was waiting for him to pick me up from town and seeing as I was next to it, I told Hannah to take me to the library, and did some research," he informed Dean.
Dean blinked. "Um. Right. What on?" he asked, not really seeing where this was going.
Sam sighed exasperatedly, like the little brother he was. "The hunt, Dean. The one you said we could go on because I asked! I've been researching it for a month now, and I'm pretty sure it's a Wendigo."
Dumbfounded, Dean stared at his brother until Sam looked unsure about the lack of sound and, slowly, a smile spread across Dean's face.
He picked up his drink of whisky and finished it off, putting the glass down loudly – exactly what he had done that night; he remembered now. And again, Sam didn't flinch at all.
"You've got it, Sammy. We'll go talk to people tomorrow," Dean said; Sam could practically hear the smile in his voice, and, relieved, smiled too.
"You got it, Dean," he murmured. Hannah trotted into the room at that moment, and Sam turned his head at the tapping of her claws on the tile. He put his hand down expectantly and waited until the dog nudged it before carefully moving his hand up to pet her on the head and stroke her beautiful body.
He stood up, hooking two fingers underneath Hannah's collar while she stood patiently. Sam gave Dean a genuinely grateful smile. "Thanks, Dean," he told him again, and sensed Dean nod in response.
He gestured for Hannah to lead him out of the kitchen and to his room, which she did perfectly, as always. Dean smiled as he watched them go. Of course the two of them together could take it on. He wasn't sure if he meant himself and Sam, or the brilliant partnership of Sam and his Service Dog.
Dean shrugged to himself and stood up too. It didn't matter what he meant; as long as they were brothers and Hannah was there for Sam too... they could do anything. Winchesters didn't give up. That he knew.
Yawning, he headed to bed after Sam. He could only hope this hunt would go well and that they would discover just how much they could still do.
Sam and Dean walked down the street, Hannah guiding Sam with his left hand on her guiding harness handle. Dean walked beside him, to his right, talking.
"I mean, she was pretty suspicious, right? She avoided the subject!" Dean insisted, annoyed.
They had just finished interviewing the mother of the first missing child. The issue had rose slightly from when they had first heard about it; now two other people were missing, but interestingly none were pronounced dead yet.
It was a week after their second conversation, and Dean had told Bobby that they were just going away for a week or so for a change of scenery. Bobby had given him a suspicious look but had slightly reluctantly let them go, making them promise to come back in no more than a fortnight.
That gave them two weeks to complete the case. Naturally more than enough time for the Winchesters.
So Dean had driven them to Iowa, Mason City, in about a 5 hour drive, while Sam comfortably napped in the back with Hannah cuddled up to him.
Once there, they had gotten straight to business. Apparently this was where the victim was originally taken from – why a cashier in South Dakota knew about this, Dean wasn't sure, but important news did travel fast.
The boy that had been taken had attended North Iowa Area Community College, so that was their next stop; to ask questions to a few of the vic's friends and teachers there.
Dean side glanced at Sam. His brother had been rather quiet during their interview with the mother and Dean was beginning to get worried. He had watched Hannah throughout the talking, but she hadn't alerted either of the boys, or apart from comforting Sam when they skipped though an uncomfortable topic, hadn't really moved at all.
"You feel alright?" Dean asked, trying to sound off-hand and glancing casually away before looking back at Sam, who had a small half-smile on his face. "What?" Dean said defensively.
Sam sighed, smile disappearing. "I'm fine, Dean. Just got a bit of a headache. It's hot," he pointed out, gesturing with his free hand to the sky, where, indeed, the sun was beating down on anyone outside.
"Hmph." Dean didn't like that answer, but decided to leave it for now. They continued in silence on a tree covered walkthrough towards the college. Hannah expertly paused at the bottom of the stairs up to the entrance, waiting until Sam felt with his feet for each step before guiding him up.
Waiting at the top of the stairs for his brother, Dean glanced around. It was the weekend, so the place was pretty empty, which was helpful for looking around.
Sam reached the top of the steps, briefly petted Hannah a job well done, and nodded in Dean's direction to tell him he was ready.
"Right. Let's go," Dean said determinedly, opening the door to the college and stepping back for Hannah to lead Sam inside first, before following the two.
"Um. This way; it says principle," he suggested, heading up a corridor to their left. Sam rolled his eyes and smiled at his brother's flippancy, before waving a hand forward to tell Hannah to follow Dean.
They managed to find the principal's office, and Dean knocked. Soon the man answered and the hunters began asking him questions while Hannah dozed under Sam's chair.
"So he thought there was something in the forest?" Dean asked, focusing on the man's answer. He was interrupted by a subtle nudge from Sam as the principle went on about how the boy was obsessed with strange noises in the forest.
Dean quickly focused on Sam. "What?" he asked quietly. Sam raised a shaking hand and pointed to Hannah, who was urgently pawing his knee and whining. The principle, busy talking, hadn't noticed.
Quickly, Dean interrupted. "Excuse me," he said with forced politeness, "where is the common room?"
The principle frowned at him in surprise. "Well, out of this room, along the corridor to the left and 3rd door on the right."
Dean nodded in thanks, and leaned towards Sam. "You got that? Can you get there?" he whispered. Sam nodded, now shaking badly. He stood up clumsily, grabbing hold of Hannah's mobility harness handle as she mirrored his movement.
"Excuse me," he said shakily, and waved Hannah forward towards the door again. She guided him quickly through the open door and to the left. Dean watched him go worriedly before getting up to shut the door and turning back to the principle.
He gave him a forced smile. "Sorry about that. He, uh, needs to walk around to, um, feel better." It was one of the worse lies Dean had ever said, and it almost made him cringe, but worry for his brother stopped his thought process working properly.
Dean sat back down, taking all his strength to not go after his brother and check he was okay. They had decided a few weeks ago that it was better for both of them if Dean didn't see the seizures, and Sam felt better that Dean didn't have to witness them.
If there was an emergency, Hannah immediately came running and led the closer person to her handler for help; she was specially trained to find Dean though – usually it was him Sam wanted, and understandably.
Though he continued the interview, the only thing Dean could think of was his brother. So when he finished the interview and headed out, he was very much relieved to find Sam sitting on the grass, under a tree for shade, just outside the doors to the college, stroking Hannah methodically and looking considerably calmer than he had, but not quite recovered yet. That was Dean's job.
"So," Dean stated as if it described everything.
Sam paused in picking at his salad and looked over the table at his brother expectantly. "Yes?"
They were sitting in a diner; Hannah curled up under the table. After the interview at the college, Dean decided they needed to eat - or at least pretend to eat in Sam's case – which led to them discussing the case they were on as they sat and ate some dinner.
Dean gave his little brother a 'stop-being-a-know-it-all' look, though he knew he couldn't see it. "Anyway, I think we're dealing with a Wendigo," he suggested.
Sam raised his eyebrow, meaning for Dean to go on and explain himself.
"I mean, it fits – the sounds, voices, luring and other dickish stuff that the fuglies do." Dean shrugged and picked up his burger again. It made sense to him.
After thinking it over for a minute, Sam shrugged too. "Yeah, makes sense." He watched Dean carefully out of the corner of his eye as he added, "so, hunting tonight?"
Sure enough, his big brother tensed in reaction to the suggestion, and didn't say anything for so long that Sam wondered if he was ever going to move again.
Finally, Dean sighed and replied in a hollow voice, "yeah, I guess..." He hesitated, and then added, "maybe we should call Bobby, just in case-"
"Dean," Sam interrupted with a sigh. "You said we could do this. You said we should do this. So just because it's coming up now doesn't mean we can back out. It's not like even you can see that much at night anyway," he added in attempt of a joke.
To his relief, Dean smiled a little. "True that, little brother." He bit his lip and finally looked up at Sam. "Okay. Tonight it is. The hunt's afoot," he added jokingly.
Sam laughed and clinked beer bottles with his brother. He hoped that everything they wished for wouldn't be proven wrong.
"You see anything?" Dean hissed to Sam. It was almost midnight, and they had been in the forest for almost an hour already. Sam shook his head and briefly took his hand off Hannah's guiding handle harness to brush the hair out of his sweaty face.
It was annoying hot at night for some reason; something that made the Wendigo harder to find, but also stopped Dean complaining about 'friggin' cold friggin' forests, man', which he was beginning to mutter about in the Impala as they waited for darkness to fall.
Sam gripped Hannah's guiding handle harness again with his left hand. They had decided to keep her off lead and take off the straight up mobility handle of her harness, which made her swifter and easier to escape should she have to.
Suddenly, Hannah flatterned her ears and nudged Sam; he stopped in his tracks and listened. He knew Hannah's alerts, and this was what was known as a sight alert; she could see something that he couldn't that could be a threat.
Sam nudged Dean and pointed down to Hannah. "She sees something in the shadows, I'm guessing," he whispered to his brother.
Dean nodded, tightening his hold on the flare gun in his right hand and shining the torch in his other hand towards the trees that Hannah was watching.
"Where abouts?" he muttered quietly to himself.
And then it all happened.
Suddenly the bushes behind the boys and the dog seemingly burst open and out jumped the very Wendigo they had been searching for. It leapt on Dean before they even had the chance to turn around, and pushed him into the floor, knocking Sam over.
Dean's quick hunter reflexes mean he could roll out of the way of its claws and grab his flare gun, pointing it and the creature and yelling, "Sam get out of the way! Move away from my voice and its growls!"
Sam could hear Dean alright, but hell was he going to get out of the way! He called for Hannah, who immediately nudged her nose into his hand, having not left his side. "Hannah, gun, quick, get!" he told her urgently.
She got the message and sniffed around, quickly locating Sam's flare gun that had fallen out of his hand after being knocked down. She picked it delicately up with her teeth – the safety was on too, as it always was when not being used – and took it to her handler.
Sam took the gun from Hannah and aimed it towards the growls. "Dean!" he yelled towards the sounds. "Fire?!"
Dean looked past the Wendigo at his brother, who was, pretty amazingly, holding his gun steady and straight at the threat. Unfortunately the Wendigo also chose that moment to notice the other Winchester, and turn towards him.
"Yes! Fire!" Dean shouted as loud as he could. Sam obeyed instantly, and pressed the trigger. However, in the chaos, he had forgotten to turn the safety off, and the gun simply clicked. Sam froze, hearing the growls getting closer...
Dean raised his gun and fired immediately on instinct. The Wendigo didn't even have time to touch Sam before it exploded in a burst of flame. Sam cowered backwards and Hannah yelped in alarm, causing Sam to pick up the hint and crawl as fast as could away from the threat – Wendigo on fire.
Finally the flames smouldered out on the damp ground – it had rained during the day – and Dean scrambled up to find his brother.
"Sam!" he shouted in panic, trying to wave the smoke from the fire away.
There was coughing in front of him, so he hurried forward and called, "Hannah! Show me!" There was a bark in front of him, and Hannah nudged his knee. Barely able to see through the dark and smoke, Dean reached down and took hold of her guiding handle harness, and commanded, "find Sam!"
It only took a minute for the German Shepherd to locate her handler; Sam was curled up on the ground, trembling. Dean immediately knelt down next to him and started checking him for burns and wounds, as Hannah lay down the other side of the handler, panting and licking his hand.
Satisfied Sam wasn't injured, just slightly bruised, Dean said softly, "Sam? You okay? Wanna get out of here?"
Slowly, Sam uncurled himself, and rubbed Hannah's back for a minute, before taking a deep breath and looking up at Dean with a nod. "Yeah," he said quietly, "it's okay."
Dean nodded, satisfied for a minute. "Okay. Up we go then." He took Sam's right arm and carefully helped him up. "Okay?" he checked again. Sam nodded.
"Right. Let's go," Dean said, much more briskly than he felt. Sam automatically felt along Hannah's back for the handle of the guiding harness, and waved her forward to follow Dean.
Dean kicked the smouldering ash of the once-Wendigo, and decided it didn't need any more evidence clearing. He glanced behind him to make sure Sam was following – or, rather, Hannah was guiding Sam to follow him – and then started forward, heading out of the forest with a sigh.
What a night. But... it had gone alright. And that, that meant so much to the Winchesters. It showed that that they could be normal; that they could live their life, though with an extra that they never expected, hardly deserved but couldn't now do without. Hannah was the world to them, the key to the life as close as the one that they used to have. And that meant the world.
Bobby glared at the phone in his hand. The boys had said they would ring. And, unsurprisingly, they hadn't.
Damn kids never thought to relieve a man of his unnecessary worrying... dammit, hunters were meant to be focused!
Suddenly, the phone rang and Bobby barely waited a second before pressing the green button and holding it to his ear. "Boys?"
In the motel room, Dean smirked at their surrogate father's anxious voice. "Aw, that's cute, you were worried," he replied sweetly. Sam, sitting on his bed across the room, sniggered and glanced up from where he was brushing the dirt out of Hannah's fur.
"Shut up, ya idjit. You were meant to ring hours ago so that I would know that you were hurt, lost or dead, Dean," Bobby ranted for a second. Realising how panicked he now sounded, he took a breath and continued, more calmly, "anyway, I hope you dumbasses are coming back soon. It's too quiet around here without ya," he admitted.
Touched – but thankfully with no one around to see it – Dean smiled to himself and glanced over at Sam and Hannah. For once, he didn't make a sarcastic comment in response to someone's worry; instead, he spoke the most truthful statement he could since the start of all this mess.
"You know, Bobby? We're good."
Okay so this took me days to finish, mainly because I haven't had much inspiration but also because I have been kind of busy. But now it's finally done. Inspiration came from here: watch?v=E87rNu5lyhI for guiding with a mobility and guide harness – apart from obviously Hannah's a German Shepherd, not a Golden Retriever – and here watch?v=d_mAS2ni3Ic for guiding with just a guide harness. The two videos feature a Service Dog called Bradley, who is an amazing Guide and Psychiatric dog for his handler. I love her videos from her youtube account GuidingGolden and they are a really good inspiration for this story, because of the Balance Assistance Harness that Bradley uses is the one that I imagine Hannah has. Perhaps suggest an adventure that the three could have; I could do with some requests to keep me going. Thank you for reading and please review.
