Chapter 15
Stretching his stiff limbs cautiously Sam disentangled himself from his brother. Dean protested groaning in his sleep and scrunching tighter into a ball as the heat left him. Sam's lips twitched. Dean was gonna be so pissed when he saw himself in a mirror.
The results of Sam's back head butt had cause little permanent damage but the soft tissue on his brother's cheeks, across his nose and around his eyes was puffy and discoloured.
Dean resembled a racoon.
Two black circles ringed his brother's eyes and with the bruising extending across the bridge of his nose Dean looked like he had a mask across his face. Poor Dean sniffed by the racoon, held captive by it, possessed and now he looked like one. The twitching lips turned into a smile. Sam couldn't help it and he bit down on the inside of his mouth to stop the laugh which threatened to erupt. He shouldn't be laughing but it really was funny.
Checking the clearing Sam drew out his cell phone. God he knew he shouldn't but this kind of opportunity didn't come around very often. One click and it was done, recorded for posterity. Grinning widely Sam re-pocketed the cell before Dean discovered his treachery but he wasn't fast enough and two moss green eyes regarded him balefully.
"I'd like to know what's so f**king amusing that you need a keepsake." Sam didn't trust himself to answer but pulled out his phone and keeping it well out of reach from his sibling, held up the screen so Dean could see his picture. His hand shook as a snort fought to let itself free.
"I was just trying to decide which was cuter you or the racoon."
"Oh ha freaking ha." Obviously Dean didn't find his predicament as funny as Sam did. "You ever show that to a goddamned soul Sam and you're a dead man."
Ignoring Dean's threat Sam drew his eyes away from his brother's abused face and still smiling bent to coax the fire back into existence. He shivered as the mist-heavy air condensed and beaded on his skin. He felt strangely vulnerable without a shirt, knew it was irrational to feel that way but couldn't shake the feeling or the sense of foreboding.
He looked up peering into the grey shadows. Had he banished the racoon completely or was it licking its wounds, waiting to catch them off guard.
"What?" Damn Dean had noticed his apprehension.
"Nothing…just checking the perimeter." Dad had trained them both in field work and Sam knew that Dean would accept the explanation. He was right and his brother settled back huddling in on himself affectively shutting down any further communication.
Turning back to his task Sam tried to quell his misgivings; he and Dean couldn't have been more defenceless than when they'd been asleep. If the thing was going to attack again then that would have been the most opportune time for it to reappear. It hadn't but he still couldn't let himself believe that they were in the clear.
The small fire still radiated some heat so placing some dry twigs over the centre of the circle of ash Sam blew gently and was rewarded after some moments with a red glow and a small tendril of smoke. He added some dryish leaf litter and soon the whole pile lit with a small puff. Pleased Sam set about creating breakfast from nothing.
By the time Dean stirred again Sam had can of hot water ready. He watched as his brother sniffed cautiously at the bubbling liquid.
"Its just water."
"Shame." Dean blew across the surface, took a sip and made a face at the brackish taste.
An amused huff left Sam but as he watched his brother continue to drink the sudden serious of their position closed in on him. Hell he had to get Dean off the mountain.
"How you feeling?"
Dean raised his eyes, looking over the rim of the metal container but didn't reply.
"Do you think you're gonna be able to walk?" Trying to make his enquiry casual hadn't worked and as soon as he'd finished Sam knew that Dean had picked up on his anxiety.
"Do I have a choice?"
The answer was obvious; no he didn't. Dean silently took another mouthful of his boiled water and Sam squatted down beside his brother to drink his own. There didn't seem to be anything to say they both knew the score, both knew that the odds on them getting down the mountain together and in one piece weren't good but it wasn't going to stop them trying.
XXxxxxxxxx
Progress was slow and much to his annoyance Dean'd had to rest every four or five yards breathing deeply to ride out the pain. Everywhere hurt, his head a constant background throbbing, spiked when he moved his neck, turned his head, blinked, thought but particularly his ribs and hip ached; jarred unmercifully by each stride he took.
"D'you need to stop?" Sam asked for the umpteenth goddamned time.
"No." Not trusting himself to say any more Dean took another step and tried to disguise the sharp intake of breath.
"Dean."
"Leave it Sam."
He went to move forward, past Sam, stumbled slightly and found his brother's arm around him. He tried to shake it off but nearly lost his balance. Sam tightened his grip.
"Sam I don't need help."
"M'not helping…m'guiding. See that fallen tree over there…s'just right for sitting on."
Limping the few yards to the tree trunk was agony the pains shot up and down Dean's leg and back each time he flexed his damaged hip and despite his protestations Dean found himself leaning on his brother as he was 'guided' but he didn't mention it and neither did Sam.
Settling himself carefully on the bark-stripped surface of the log Dean let out a long breath and tried to relax his tired and tense body. They hadn't come far and already he was aching everywhere and exhausted.
"Here." Sam held a bottle of water in one hand and four painkillers spread across the palm of the other. Dean looked up questioningly; it must have only been two hours since he took the last lot.
"You need them." Wearily Dean took the offered drink and downed the pills in one swill. Sam sat next to him and took a swig of water himself. Despite how upbeat his brother had been all morning it didn't escape Dean's notice how tired Sam was there were deep shadows under his eyes and more worryingly a slight tremble of his hand as he held the bottle. Sam was near exhaustion but putting a brave face on for Dean.
"You okay?"
Sam was definitely, deliberately not looking at him but took another mouthful, screwed on the cap then slapped his hand down onto Dean's thigh.
"Come on hop-along race you to the next bend."
Groaning as his brother pushed himself up and was gone jogging, albeit slowly, off down the shaded path Dean stood, stretching cautiously and followed, steps faltering on the uneven surface. He was struggling and as much as he didn't want to admit it he was worried. They had no food to speak of, no warm clothes, hell hardly any clothing at all and they were still several miles from the main trail.
Startled by a small sound behind him Dean shivered looked round then hurried after Sam as fast as he could. It wasn't that he was scared or even fearful as such but in his present condition he was in no shape to put up much of a fight if anything came at him. Then there were the trees, they unsettled him now, every rustle, every scrape of a branch sent a shiver of apprehension down his spine so that he kept checking behind him, twisting, gazing into the greenery for long minutes expecting to see those eyes.
The damned racoon had made him jumpy as hell.
Catching up to Sam seemed to take forever and by the time Dean rounded the bend in the trail the sweat was running down his back and chest and he felt like he was dragging a ten ton weight behind him. The effort it took to lift his leg and step forward was immense but he did it. Step after step after step, eyes fixed on a spot ahead, only kept upright by his sheer stubborn doggedness and probably stupidity.
Dean stopped. Sam was grinning.
"What?" There was something suspicious about that grin. Sam only got that grin when he was up to something. "You're ginning like a Cheshire Cat."
"I got you a present."
"Yeah right and I got the cake and candles."
Proudly Sam held out a stripling branch about three feet long and an inch and a half in diameter. "I got you a stick."
"I'll alert Congress." Sam looked deflated and that made Dean feel like a dick. "You got me a stick."
His brother brightened. "Yeah a walking stick…you know to help you walk."
"Sam I know what a walking stick is." Dean took the offered gift and tested it, slowly trusting his weight to its strength. It held and even had a slight spring in its tension. It was a good stick as sticks went.
"Thanks."
Sam was grinning again. "It'll take the pressure off your hip, make things easier."
Dean doubted that anything could make things easier other than being airlifted to safety but then that opened up whole new mess of ways to die something he'd rather not think about at the moment. He hobbled forward feeling like some ancient grandfather as he leant heavily on his 'stick' but it worked, well it eased the pain in his hip and replaced it with one around his ribcage but who the hell was complaining.
XXxxxxxxx
Sam frowned as he waited for his brother the daylight was fading and they hadn't covered half the distance he'd hoped to since morning. However once glance back at Dean told him that to push on would be a mistake.
"We'll stop here." He slipped his arms out of his back pack and dumped it at the side of the path.
It wasn't much of a track more a thread of less undergrowth winding its way through the trees but it seemed to be heading in the right direction if Sam's inner compass was working and it meant slightly easier walking for Dean.
He'd tried at first to help his brother, gotten away with it once but after that his assistance had been rebuffed in very ungracious terms and he'd not offered again. That wasn't to say that he hadn't hovered until Dean had sworn at him and told him to leave him the f**k alone. Then he'd taken to walking a little ways ahead, turning back and waiting, observing his brother as he caught up. He still managed to make Dean pissed at him but at least he was able to assess how his brother was doing.
Dean halted panting heavily and obviously resting all his weight on his right leg the walking stick out to the side steadying him.
"I'm good we should keep going." Dean's attempt at cheerfulness fell flat.
"Sit down before you fall down."
It sounded harsh but Sam was too damned tired to argue with Dean about the vagaries of his injuries and his ability to continue for once his brother was going to have to take orders and not give them.
Following his own advice Sam sank down onto the damp grass, leaning back onto the rough bark of the tree behind him. His muscles were trembling with fatigue and cramping. He was dehydrated. Slowly he pulled his pack open and found the water bottle it had about two mouthfuls left in the bottom.
"Drink?" He held up the container towards his brother.
Dean stumbled the last few yards, took the bottle and settled himself down awkwardly on the grass between the roots of the tree.
"Thanks." Dean drank and offered the bottle back.
"Nah you finish it, I'll get some more there's got to be a stream or something around here there's been enough rain to drown an army, I'll fill it later."
In the silence Sam heard the swish of water as Dean gulping the last few drops. He licked his lips, his mouth was dry and his head woozy but he reckoned all he needed was a couple of hours sleep and he'd be fine.
"Sam?" His brother's voice was gentle almost a whisper.
"Yeah," and when nothing more was said Sam added, "M'okay." His eyes closed and the weariness he'd been holding back all day descended like a heavy cloud pinning his limbs where they lay and shrouding his mind with sleep.
XXxxxxxxxx
"You go." Dean was staring at the ground in front of him.
"What!" Startled at the suggestion Sam studied the dejected form of his brother as he tried to find the words to express his protest. "No."
Sam had woken at sunup head pounding, checked on a still sleeping Dean and then dragged himself up to go look for a stream. He'd found one about fifty yards from their path, knelt filled the bottle, drunk it down and filled it again. The queasy nausea abated somewhat and he'd been feeling a whole lot better about their chances until Dean had whammied him with the 'You go for help I'll stay here' routine.
"Sam it makes sense. You'll be faster. I can hardly put one foot in front of the other without a fit of the wobbles. I'm not gonna make it ten yards down the path let alone miles."
"I'm not leaving you."
"You're gonna have to."
"NO." Dean's head came up as Sam continued resolute. "Either we both go or we both stay." His breath came in rapid shallow pants as his throat constricted with emotion. S**t he wasn't going to cry and neither was he going to leave his brother alone on the side of a goddamned mountain. "We leave in half an hour."
How could his brother even think that he should leave him? Yeah it was the practical thing to do. It's what Dad would have done but then Sam wasn't Dad. No, he reaffirmed his resolve; he wasn't going to leave Dean.
"Sammy… I..I can't walk any further and you can't carry me."
It was a big admission and Dean's voice broke, hitching as his eyes pleaded with Sam not to argue, to accept the truth that was obvious to both of them.
Sam choked back his own threatening tears.
"Dean…I..."
"It's okay Sammy, I know."
Sam jerked up and stared at his bother; no Dean wouldn't, not now, not in this situation.
"Did you just quote Star Wars?"
XXxxxxxxx
Dean squinted upwards at the sun trying to gauge how long Sam had been gone. His brother had offered his watch but Dean had refused knowing his sibling would need it to help him navigate his way out of the goddamned forest. As long as the sun shone Sam would be able to check his position, find south and take a compass bearing. It was for this reason that he and Sam always wore analogue timepieces with proper faces and hands.
"You'd be lucky to find yu'r way out of a bucket with that digital." Bobby had said cuffing him lightly when he'd caught a sixteen year old Dean drooling over some crazy all singing, all dancing watch advertised in a local paper.
Dean sighed wondering where his brother was now. Sam had been adamant that he wouldn't leave showing a gritty determination that was reminiscent of their father. Dean'd had to cover up how bad he was feeling and play on the physical practicability of his not being able to walk, pointing out that his brother wasn't Superman and so couldn't carry him down the freakin' mountain. If Sam had known that Dean's leg was on fire, his chest was knifing in agony on every breath, and that he couldn't f**king see straight then he would never have left but he bought Dean's game face. Trusting that Dean could keep himself alive while he went for help.
It wasn't as if Dean was lying, every step so far had been hard going from sharp twinges all the way up to sheer agony and it had drained him made him so tired that all he wanted was to lie down, so no he wasn't lying.
It was definitely hours since Dean, lump in his throat, had watched Sam check their approximate position on the map and walk of sight. The weight of the loss had settled over him in a thick depression and he'd lain unmoving for a long, long while staring at the empty path the blades of grass slowly unbending until there was no trace left of his brother's passage.
He'd fallen asleep, well passed out if he was going to be strictly accurate, having tried to sit up. Now he was awake he carefully added a few sticks to his inadequate but comforting fire and glanced up. In keeping with the luck he'd had so far the sun was obscured by threatening grey clouds so he couldn't gage the time of day from the sun's position or from the length of the shadows and fanf**kingtastic it was going to rain again?
He needed shelter. Dean risked trying to move again but all he got for his effort was an explosion of pain and a spectacular set of sparkles obscuring his vision. Groaning, holding his breath he waited but the torment stayed, pulsing intensely with every heartbeat, taking him over, leaving him unaware of the rain splashing cold on his skin.
Slowly, eventually, the pain receded. Dean shivered, the air was colder the light gone with the rain leaving a thin mizzle of mist hanging the air with moisture. The day had passed and he had no recollection of it. It should have concerned him that he was so vulnerable and exposed but the fire Sam had banked up and that he'd fed so judiciously had gone out and that small, small thing brought him to tears.
The dam broke, emotion poured through the cracks, through Dean unchecked. Waves of uncharacteristic despair and misery that rose again and again until physically and emotionally exhausted his wracking sobs subsided.
Shuddering both from the release and the cold Dean pressed his lips together the muscle in his clenched jaw twitching as he desperately tried to blink back another rush of tears.
"Damn it, get a grip."
He swallowed hard, he was gonna die in this f**king excuse for a forest unless he pulled himself together. He needed to get the fire going again. The matches wrapped in their waterproof bag and firewood, covered with large leaves were within easy reach; Dean blessed his brother for that. The boy might have a girly streak a mile wide but he knew hunting and he knew survival.
Trying to reach the pile of twigs Dean lifted his arm but that caused a return of the searing pain around his ribcage. Gasping he let his arm drop pulling it into his body cuddling his aching chest. S**t this sucked. Lying back Dean was tempted to let it all go, let the torpor he'd been fighting take him down but he couldn't do it.
Sam was strong, stronger than he was; if anyone could get through, get help, it would be Sam but if his brother returned to find that Dean had checked out then the elder Winchester knew it would probably destroy his younger sibling and he couldn't do that to Sammy.
Forcing himself to move, Dean gritted his teeth and sucked in his breath. The stress on his body was enormous and the pain immense but eventually he was rewarded with a small orange flame. It was beautiful and Dean lay mesmerised by its dancing elegance before he added some kindling and its delicate energy roared into a blaze.
Closing his eyes, the heat glowing on his face Dean felt himself drifting again, the greyness floating over him. He knew he shouldn't give in but he was too tired to fight its thrall, too tired to do anything but fall into its waiting arms.