Title: Reader's Special: Second Edition - One Shot Reward Fic Collection
Author: Disasteriffic Kaz
Info: A collection of 1 Shot Reward Fics for Prompters of my Reader's Special: Third Edition. Features many seasons, hurt/limp/awesome/caring!Sam/Dean/John/Bobby See each chapter for specific info for each 1 shot reward fic.
Author's Note: The Reader's Special: Third Edition was a smashing success! Prompters of the story were offered a One Shot Reward story of their choice. These are they. None of the chapters contained in this collection are connected. Each one is a stand-alone one shot per the Prompters request. Thank you to all of you who prompted the Reader's Special! You were fantastic as always!
Chapter Info: For emebalia - Season 1 or 2, Dean has to spend the night with a kid (not older than 10) in the woods with something evil still lurking around. Sam is not with them for some reason.
A/N: Alrighty! Season 2, just because. :D One hunt gone wrong, hurt Dean and a kid in the woods at night coming up!
Beta'd by the always awesome JaniceC678 :D– Friend and Muse's co-conspirator.
**Follow me on Facebook as "Disasteriffic Kaz" for frequent fic updates or just to chat!
~Reviews are Love~
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Dean was stuck in a nightmare. He groaned, knowing he was asleep but was powerless to wake himself up. The wendigo was coming. He could see it. They'd come hunting it after a ten-year-old boy had gone missing and Dean had been convinced the kid was already dead. They found its lair and the boy, still alive and screaming for help. Dean watched himself cutting the boy loose, saw Sam thrown aside and stunned as the wendigo rushed into the cave. He put himself between the creature and the boy and this time didn't feel the pain as he was thrown into a wall and his leg crumpled. He watched the boy crawl to him and saw himself shield him with his body, even as Sam rose up behind it, staggering, and fired, hitting it in the leg. Dean jerked awake as he was shaken and blinked up at the boy, Freddie.
"Dean? You ok?" Freddie peered fearfully down at him in the moonlight. "I think…you were havin' a nightmare."
"Yeah," Dean groaned and pushed himself up against the tree at his back. He sucked in a breath as pain shot from his left leg up to his head and fell back. "Shit!" He blinked blearily down at his leg and memory struck him. "Right," He hissed between his teeth. His leg had snapped when he hit the cave wall, and Sam, after trying to carry him out with his own concussion stealing his balance, had finally been convinced to leave him behind and go get help. Dean looked over at Freddie, remembering the kid's absolute refusal to leave his hero and smiled. "You ok, kiddo?"
Freddie nodded. "Yeah." He laid his hand over Dean's forehead like his mom always did for him. "You got a fever. That's not good, right?"
"I'm good, kid." Dean took a few deep breaths. He needed to do better than this. The kid was a trooper, that was for sure, and reminded him a little of Sam at his age. He rolled his eyes when Freddie curled back up against his side.
"Your brother…he'll be back soon?" Freddie asked and tried not to look at all the blood on Dean's leg or the little white bone peeking out from the denim of his jeans. It made him hurt just looking at it.
"Yeah, Freddie." Dean nodded weakly. He brushed a hand over the bag on his right to comfort himself. Sam had left them with the rest of the flares. Sam had shot the wendigo, but between the concussion and barely being able to stay on his feet, his aim hadn't been true, and, even as flammable as they were, he couldn't be sure it was actually dead.
Worried about Sam being off on his own in the woods, possibly with an injured wendigo roaming around, Dean had cursed at him and tried to make him take the weapons, but Sam had only taken a single flare. "Stubborn ass," Dean muttered. He rolled his eyes when Freddie looked up at him. "Not you kid. Sam."
Freddie smirked. "You said ass."
Dean snorted a soft laugh. "Pretty sure you heard…heard worse than that in the cave." He gasped at the burning agony in his leg and tried to stifle the moan.
"Wasn't listening." Freddie looked out into the trees around them nervously.
"What's wrong?" Dean wasn't so far gone in his own pain that he couldn't feel the kid tense up against him. "You hear something?"
Freddie nodded. "When I was wakin' you up. You were…you were yellin,' and then I thought…I thought I heard something growl…out there." He waved into the forest.
"Crap," Dean groaned and pulled a flare gun out of the bag, setting it in his lap. "Too much to hope for the damn thing to actually die."
"It's still out there?" Freddie asked in a small voice and pressed in closer to Dean's side.
"Hey, kid. It's alright." Dean wrapped an arm around him. "I'm not letting big ugly get anywhere near you."
"Promise?" Freddie looked up with the absolute faith of childhood and made Dean's heart clench.
"Yeah, kid. I promise," Dean squeezed him tighter, remembering when Sam used to look at him like that. He sighed. He hadn't been the best big brother ever since their Dad died. He jerked his head up at a rustle in the distance. It was followed by a deep, angry growl. "Shit. Shit!" Dean tried to push up the tree again, giving up as his leg threatened to knock him out with the pain. He raised the flare gun in a shaking hand instead.
"It's out there," Freddie whispered into Dean's shoulder. He was doing a fair job of climbing behind the man in fear.
"It's not getting you again, Freddie," Dean said fiercely and blinked furiously, trying to clear his vision. His temperature was rising enough to make him bleary-eyed and dizzy on top of the pain. "No way it's getting you again. Trust me?" Freddie nodded against him. "Good boy. I got this."
Dean spent the next several hours fighting the need to sleep as exhaustion blew through him in waves. He couldn't afford it, not with Freddie shaking against him and the wendigo lurking around them in the dark. He could hear it out there as it moved, and that alone made him frown. Typically, you didn't hear the things until they were on you. He reasoned that, while Sam hadn't killed it, he must have done some damage. He longed to go after it if only his damn leg wasn't busted.
"Anytime…you wanna come…come back, Sammy," Dean muttered, his arm moving across the clearing with the sound of the wendigo shifting its position. He snarled at himself and forced his hand to stop shaking. Normally, he'd have been relieved that a creature was coming after him instead of his brother but then, he wasn't normally also responsible for protecting a defenseless child as well as being about two breaths away from passing out either.
"I could hold it," Freddie said softly.
"Huh?" Dean looked down at him and sighed, shaking his head. "No. It's ok. I can do this." He could just see the dirty look Sam would give him if he came back and found the kid holding the damn flare gun. He snorted. "Don't…don't wanna have to answer…to the big guy when he…gets back."
"I thought you were the big brother?" Freddie reached a hand up and helped steady Dean's arm.
Dean laughed softly. "I let him get taller. What…what can I say? I'm awesome." He wiped the fever-sweat off his face on his shoulder and tried to slow his breathing down.
The wendigo's growl came again from across their little clearing. Dean aimed at the spot. A moment later it sounded from their left, then moved to their right. Dean growled in frustration as it sounded behind them, and Freddie jumped against him. "You watch over my shoulder, buddy. Ok? You see it, you tell me."
Freddie nodded and peered over Dean's shoulder like it was a favored pillow and out into the dark trees. He was terrified, but he bit his lip and kept watch. Dean was hurt so bad he was shaking, but he still held the gun up and kept him safe. Freddy could do no less. He had to be just as brave.
The wendigo growled off to Dean's right. He swung the gun in that direction. "Come on, you son of a bitch!" He shouted. He fought the need to cough and tightened his grip around Freddy when he shook. "S'ok, kid. You're gonna be ok." The night went silent around them; no more growls from the creature, not even the chirp of a cricket. "Shit." Dean muttered, not liking the silence one bit. It meant the thing was up to something new. "You see anything?"
Freddy shook his head. "No," He whispered, too afraid to raise his voice and draw the monster in to them.
Dean narrowed his eyes, wiping more fever-sweat onto his shoulder and sighted along the muzzle of the flare gun out into the dark. He toyed with the idea of setting the bushes across from them alight to try and draw it in but, in his current condition, wasn't sure he could reload the flare gun in time. He listened carefully for any sound out of place over the pounding of his own heart and his harsh, panting breaths.
Dean froze as a single leaf floated gently down from above. He watched its fluttering progress as it drifted one way and another and finally landed silently on his knee. He closed his eyes. "Oh…crap." He hoped he was wrong as every nerve in his body screamed danger at him. He wanted to be wrong. He knew he wasn't. Dean swung his arm up toward the tree above them and pulled the trigger.
The flare shot up into the green bowl of the tree and exploded light. The hunched form of the wendigo was revealed, clinging to the branches. It screamed in rage or fear or both and burst out of the tree in a powerful leap as the flames neared. Dean scrambled in the bag for another flare while Freddie cowered against him. Dean cracked the gun open and pushed a new flare inside and looked up in time to watch the wendigo. It streaked across the clearing by the firelight in a limping run, using its arm to skitter out of sight like a three-legged dog; it only had a single leg now and Dean smiled grimly.
"Hope it hurts, bitch!" Dean yelled as it streaked into the darkness. He popped the flare gun closed and looked up and groaned again. 'Oh, fu…uh…damn. Ok, kid. We gotta move."
"But your leg!" Freddy said in surprise. Nevertheless, he tried to help as best he could as Dean used the tree to try and gain his one good foot.
Halfway to standing, Dean jarred his bad leg and ended up right back on the ground gasping around the agony. "Shit…shit. Ok…I can…shit."
"Dean? It's ok." Freddy rubbed his shoulder to try and comfort him as the man gasped and moaned, and finally Dean's green eyes opened to meet his. "Maybe if you crawl? I can help."
Dean nodded wearily. "Yeah…that…we can do that." He let Freddy help him turn as embers began to fall out of the tree in a sparkling shower around them. He pulled himself backward across the forest floor while Freddy danced between helping to pull him and steadying his horribly broken leg.
They made it all the way across the clearing, Dean fighting every moment not to give in to passing out and keeping his gun up in case the wendigo had another go at them. Freddy helped him lean against another tree and was instantly curled into his left side again. Dean smiled in spite of his pain.
"Ok, kiddo. We're…we're ok." Dean brought his right knee up and rested his arm on it to keep the gun steady. He listened to the night again and frowned; the crickets were chirping once more.
"It's kinda pretty," Freddy said softly and pointed to the tree across from them. It was wreathed in flames from the flare and beyond it; the sky was beginning to lighten toward dawn.
Dean nodded and jerked as the wendigo screamed somewhere in the forest.
"Dean? What's it mean?" Freddie stared around with big, frightened eyes.
"Don't know." Dean rolled his head against the tree to look in the direction the sound had come from. "Maybe it finally died." He snorted softly. "Either that or I…I really pissed it off." He squeezed his arm around the boy. "Don't worry 'bout it…be ok. Promise."
"Ok, Dean." Freddy watched Dean's eyes flutter shut and his arm, with the gun, begin to roll off his knee. Freddy caught it and took the flare gun carefully out of Dean's hand. "It's ok, Dean," He whispered and moved to sit like Dean, bracing his hand and the gun on his bent knee. "I can watch you." The gun felt too big in his hand so he used both to hold it steady and watched the dark around them like he'd watched Dean do for hours. He pushed a little closer to the older man; he was putting enough heat to keep them both warm in the pre-dawn.
Freddie didn't know how long he sat there, keeping watch. He had started humming the little tunes his mom would hum to him to keep Dean company. Sometimes, Dean would roll his head or moan, others Dean would just mutter 'Sammy' under his breath. Freddy was so tired, but he couldn't sleep. The monster could come back, and he had to keep them safe. He startled at a sound deeper in the forest. He listened hard and realized it was the sound of something running. Freddy eased away from Dean's warm side, shivering slightly in the cold air of dawn and stood, holding the flare gun in both hands.
His hands were shaking and he whimpered in his throat in fear, but Freddy looked down at Dean and straightened his shoulders. "I can do this, Dean," he murmured, mostly to just convince himself. He aimed toward where the sound was coming from, waiting for the monster to show itself again. Freddy saw something move back in the shadows beyond the burnt tree. He closed his eyes and fired. The flare roared off into the woods. A moment later he heard a shout, but it wasn't the monster; it was human.
"Whoa!"
"Uh oh." Freddy looked down, squeaking in surprise as Dean's hand clasped over his arm.
"Freddy?" Dean rubbed a hand over his face and looked out where the kid had fired. "What'd you shoot at?"
"Dean? Don't shoot! It's me!" Sam's voice echoed out from the trees.
Dean stared in surprise and then started to laugh softly. He pulled Freddy down to him and took the spent flare gun back. "Hey. It's ok, kid. You did good." He looked back up. "Sammy?"
Sam appeared around a tree on the other side of the clearing, looking warily out to make sure another flare wasn't coming for his head. He smiled and jogged slowly over to them, dropping to his knees beside them. "Get a little trigger happy, Dean?" His voice was light but his gaze was serious and worried as he got a good look at his brother. Dean should never be that pale or that hoarse. "Rescue team's right behind me."
Dean looked up at him and scowled. "What the hell, dude?" Sam's shirts were gone. All he had on was his jacket pulled over blood-spotted bandages wrapped around his chest.
"One-legged bastard circled back around for me." Sam shook his head. "It's dead now. Caught me once before I could gank him. I'm good." He bent over Dean's broken leg and swallowed, terrified that Dean would lose it; it had taken so long to hike out and then back in.
"S'gonna be fine, Sammy," Dean said, smiled and took his brother's arm for emphasis. "You should sit…sit down, kay?"
Sam looked at his bleary-eyed brother and snorted. "Dude, I'm sitting."
"He says you should sit, you should sit." Freddie piped up and reached over Dean to give Sam's shoulder a push until he went back on his butt. "Good."
"Kid's a fast learner," Dean snickered and looked up as several people came into the clearing in rescue gear and carrying a board. "They're not strappin' me down."
"Yeah, they are." Sam grinned. "Freddie and I are gonna walk out." As he predicted, Dean was strapped to the backboard and carried among the rescuers while Sam had Freddie on his back so he could see Dean. He'd danced along beside the board, hopping to try and see him as they'd walked until Sam had laughed, bent, and let him climb up.
Dean rolled his head to look up as the sun crept over the trees and smiled at Freddy perched atop his brother's shoulders. "You did good, kiddo." He took in Freddy's grin and then late his gaze drop to meet Sam's, raising a brow so he knew it was for both of them. He chuckled when Sam rolled his eyes and let his own close finally in exhaustion. "Did good."
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The End.
Next Up: Jeanny
