Surviving Is Just Step One

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: By the time Sam figures out that trekking through a forest, looking for a Wendigo, is the last place on God's green earth Dean wants to be, it's too late to turn back. No Slash.

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Chapter 2: Up Close

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Rule #2: The trick is knowing how close you need to be to kill and not be killed.

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The sun's just making an appearance when Dean finally gives up skulking in the woods and enters their camp. Sam is instantly on his feet, like he's been primed for his brother's return for awhile…all night actually.

Fighting the urge to latch onto Dean so he doesn't skitter off into the forest again, Sam commands, "Ok, pack up. We're getting out of here."

"What? Why?" Dean tensely counters, not sure what he could have missed, especially since he hadn't been more than two hundred yards away from Sam all night.

"We'll get Garth to put someone else on this," Sam announces, making a point to not look at Dean. Instead he picksup his already packed bag from the ground and slings it over his shoulder.

Dean suddenly knows Sam's motives aren't about danger, are about pity … misgivings that he won't have his back, will be a liability to him. "No, we're here, Sam," he growls, eyes pinning Sam, telling him that he knows exactly what's going through his little brother's head and resents it.

Not willing to back down, to Dean's hot glare or his brother's statement, Sam declares, "Yeah and we're leaving Dean," his imposing tone indicating that he's in charge now.

"I don't need your protection!" Dean rails back angrily, didn't mention Purgatory so Sam would turn into his friggin' bodyguard instead of his brother.

"Well tough. You're my brother, Dean. Protecting you is hardwired into me!" Sam grouses, miffed that he has to tell Dean that, that Dean doesn't already know that. Picking up Dean's bag, he forcefully throws it at his brother, who deftly catches it before it smacks him in the chest. "If we hustle, we can be out of here before nightfall."

But Dean rebelliously throws his bag on the ground, isn't going to stand there and take Sam's coddling. "No. I'm not quitting on the hunt. You think a Wendigo's the worst thing that stalked me in Purgatory?!" he incredulously jeered before snorting. "Not even close. And that was when it was just me against them."

Sam stills in shock, not at Dean's denial but at the revelation his brother let slip. His tone is dangerous and low when he asks, "What do you mean, 'just you against them'? Cas was there with you." And there's a question there that he never thought he had to pose before.

Though Dean says nothing, Sam detects something dark, something near panic in his brother's eyes. It causes his heart to skip a beat. Then he internally curses. Apparently there's so much more to the story that he doesn't know. And by the closed look on Dean's face, it's things his brother isn't willing to tell him.

'Not yet,' Sam vows because he can't let this go on, Dean hiding away his pain, his fear, his memories. Not when it apparently isn't doing a thing to heal his brother.

So he picks up Dean's discarded bag, will carry his and Dean's bag if that's what it takes. Truth is, he'll carry Dean out of the woods, if need be. Then he gently appeals, pitches in that soothing little brother tone he only uses on Dean, that Dean brings out in him in times like this, "Let's just go, Dean,"

But Dean's face colors in shame and his next words aren't capitulation but indignation. "Don't treat me like I'm some coward, Sam!" Because he can take a lot but Sam thinking he's…knowing he's….but Sam cuts into his thoughts, his brother's tone not edged in anger but drowning in understanding, concern, and that just makes things worse.

"I'm not, Dean." Sam quietly refutes because the last thing Sam ever believes Dean is…is a coward. Out of everybody, he knows first-hand that his brother's the farthest thing from it. "But I'm not going to subject you to stuff that triggers your worst nightmares." Because even Dean has his limits of what he can bear…and Sam has his limits on how much terror he can witness radiating from his brother.

Dean shifts on his feet, Sam's tone loosening the clench in his gut while upping his dread. "Sam, I don't…"

"Yeah…yeah you do," Sam kindly contests because, though he never let Dean know that he had witnessed his nightmares, that didn't mean they hadn't ripped his heart out, hadn't troubled him.

Sam hates that shame creeps into Dean's eyes. Sardonically, he gives a bitter smile. "Not like either one of us welcomes sleep." Wants Dean to remember they are in the same boat here, that there's no shame in it…not when Sam knows the taste of fear better than anyone else ever would…except Dean.

And Dean allows a smirk to play on his lips. "That's what the alcohol used to be for."

Sam tilts his head, notes the past tense of Dean's statement and suddenly realizes how controlled his brother's drinking has been since Purgatory. But he makes no mention of that revelation. He certainly doesn't want Dean walking that ruinous path again. "I'll call Garth soon as we get a signal. He'll have another hunter here before tomorrow night."

And Sam notes that Dean's voice has lost its anger, is now checked by rationale. "We're hunters and we're right here, Sam." But Dean putting up another facade, it's not really an improvement.

At the worried look Sam levels at him, Dean nearly sighs, abandons logical arguments and moves into easier territory. "Don't worry. I'm not going to flip out on you, slit your throat in the middle of the night," he scathingly pledges, eyes flashing, part of him wanting Sam to admit he's afraid of him and the other part of him terrified it's true.

"Yeah, because it's me I'm worried about," Sam snaps back, can't believe Dean can't accept he's terrified for him, not of him. Never that. Not even when Dean admitted their father said he might have to kill him. And that should mean something to Dean.

"I can handle this," Dean hisses through clenched teeth, hates that Sam doubts him, doubts his courage.

And anger isn't getting them anywhere, so Sam lets his desperation show, doesn't try to conceal the crack in his voice as he implores, "You're missing the point, Dean. I don't want you to have to handle it."

Dean's anger flees, can't stand against Sam's honest-to-goodness desire to protect him. "I'm good, Sam. I am."

Sam shakes his head, runs a hand over his face and struggles to not swing on Dean or gather Dean into a hard punishing hug. Because Dean having to deal with this stuff in this too real setting, it is his fault ..and Dean's not blaming him, is trying to erase his guilt by saying he is just dandy being somewhere that has enough bad memories to make even the strongest person go loco. "Yeah, because you missed Purgatory so much you wanted to go to a place that feels just like it," he cynically remarks, his guilt rising, no matter Dean's efforts to make it go away.

Shrugging indifferently, Dean replies, "Woods, they aren't going to be my favorite vacation spot but it's not like I ever liked camping much to begin with."

Sam swallows down the lump in his throat, knows what's prompting Dean's bravado. "You don't have to prove anything to me."

Dean's eyes skirt away from Sam and drift into the forest. "Well maybe I have to prove it to myself."

That brings Sam up short. "Prove what?"

Eyes alighting on his brother again, Dean admits, "That I know when to not kill. Cause the killing part…" here he smiles and he knows it is the wolf's smile that he has perfected but only unleashes for special occasions that call for a certain amount of nastiness…like hell…and Purgatory. "I got really good at it, Sam," he boasts because he's so good at the stuff that's not a credit to him, to anyone whose soul isn't tainted. "No thought, no 'should I, shouldn't I?' No hesitation. None. Their lives for my survival. Anything that got close, I killed, Sam. I never gave any of them a chance to make nice." Then he drops his eyes from Sam, finds that he isn't brave enough to watch Sam's concern for him turn into disgust.

And Sam can't stand the guilt, the recrimination, the self-hatred pouring off of Dean, needs to stop it. Knows how to maybe stop it…but his method …it's not the easiest path..for him. His voice is hoarse, tight as he forces the words out, does it for Dean, because Dean's more important to him than his own ego, than his own staggering jealousy. "But you didn't kill Benny."

Dean's bowed head snaps up, his eyes colliding with Sam's. He never expected Sam to offer that defense for his action, especially not when it seemed to imply Sam was Ok with his alliance with Benny. He can't quite think of what to say after that.

Not sure what Dean's silence signifies, Sam nervously pulls the two bags higher on his shoulder. "I mean…it must not have been ….easy." At Dean's wide-eyed response, Sam rushes out his next words, hadn't meant to imply that it wasn't easy for Dean to not kill. "No, I mean…..to trust him."

Dean's eyes narrow. He doesn't trust Sam's sudden polar opinion on the topic of Benny. Doesn't know what angle Sam's playing but isn't interested in it leading to him discussing the bond he and Benny had forged because, he's not stupid as Sam thinks he is. He knows that's the very last topic Sam wants to hear about. "I think you're forgetting one thing: I'm a hunter, Sam. I kill monsters for a living. Benny's the idiot who trusted me first."

Sam detects the revulsion in Dean's tone, revulsion Dean directs at himself. And it's wrong that it's easier for Sam to hear that self-hatred than the fondness that lurks in his brother's words. A fondness his brother has for a vampire…for Benny. And Sam can't help but wonder how his brother won over a friggin' vampire. 'But if anyone could do it, it would be Dean.'

SNSNSNSN ~ Purgatory ~ SNSNSNSNSN

They were gaining ground on him, the breaking of underbrush behind him was close now, too close. Ruefully surprised that he could hear anything over the frantic beating of his own heart, the harsh in and out of his breath, Dean reminded himself when a branch snapped to his left that the presence at his side wasn't a foe…well, for the moment he wasn't.

Before he sensed the imminent danger, he was tackled from behind. His chin slammed into the forest floor and his breath was knocked out of his lungs, seemingly for good. But breath or no breath, he moved anyway, wouldn't let panic freeze him, couldn't, not if he didn't want to be monster stew. Sending an elbow back into the creature who was pinning him to the ground, he wondered if the monster even had a nose to break. But it howled in pain and he knew he had found a weakness, all the same.

As he scrambled forward on all fours, this time he foresaw the renewed attack, dropped to his back and swiped out with the knife. The hairy, humanoid monster didn't even get out a good growl before he loped off its head. He rolled half a turn so the headless corpse didn't land on him. But the victory party was cut short when another such creature was immediately in his personal space, lashing out with claws, claws that dug across his collarbone. With a growl of his own, he treated the second creature to the same mercy he had the first.

Wise enough to know that there was no time to capitulate to the pain, he climbed to his feet, knife at the ready…only to find the other three creatures in the pack were already down for the count, one only inches away from him, their mortal wounds courtesy of a purgatory forged knife dripping with blood and held in the deft grip of his vampire companion.

His eyes met Benny's.

In another setting, his gaze might have conveyed appreciation, gratitude but not then, not there. Suspicion was paramount there, distrust the principal to live by, literally.

So when Benny's eyes flickered from his face to his shoulder, took in the sight of his wound, of the blood, Dean instinctively retreated back a step when the vampire made a move in his direction.

Dean hated that his second step backwards was a stumble, that the wound was already affecting him, weakening him.

"Whoa, friend. No need to be so skittish," Benny drawled in his soft southern tang, hands at his side in a show of peace.

"Right 'cause this isn't the smell you love best," Dean jeered, pressing his hand on his wound and then raising his bloody hand up for Benny's inspection. He hoped that show and tell distracted Benny, that the vampire didn't notice that his other hand had a killer grip on Ruby's knife, that he was ready to defend himself if the vampire decided it was mealtime.

But Benny's eyes dispassionately abandoned their focus on the blood dripping from Dean's hand, held Dean's eyes instead. "You seem like a man who enjoyed red meat, but I don't think the cows in the farmer's field had to fear for their lives. "

"Is that what I am to you…a cow?" Dean goaded.

Benny gave a carefree shrug. "Not where I was going with the analogy but I doubt I can change your mind. Least not yet." And he began to advance toward Dean again.

Dean responded by raising Ruby's knife into a defensive position and lethally warned, "Stay back."

"Haven't I earned a little slice of trust?" Benny coaxed, adopting a slightly hurt tone.

"Trust," Dean snorted, the very thought of bestowing that on the man, no, on the vampire in front of him was ludicrous, even there. "Buddy, you are so far from having my trust," he darkly chuckled.

"Awww, you're almost hurting my feelings," Benny sarcastically retorted, a smile pulling up his lips.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Dean grunted back. And he didn't know how the vampire had interpreted his words as a come-hither invite but Benny was walking toward him again. Though his knife was at the ready, Dean stepped backwards, found he didn't want to end Benny. Told himself that his reluctance only had to do with the vamp's invaluable knowledge of a way out of Purgatory.

Undeterred, Benny continued to draw closer to Dean, lightly requested, "Come on now. Let me have a look see. Wouldn't do for my 'soul train' to up and die on me."

Not one to turn tail and run if he didn't have to, Dean decided that Benny had pushed him as far as he'd let him, stood his ground where he was at. He tensed as Benny neared and when the vampire was a mere foot away, he pressed the knife to the vamp's neck, snarled, "Back off or your soul train's gonna lob your head clean off your shoulders."

Eyes holding Dean's, Benny calmly spurred, "Then do it. Put me outta my misery."

As his eyes sear into the vampire's, Dean realized that there are no fangs appearing in the vamp's mouth…and there should be. Especially when there was human blood permeating, not only Dean's shirt, but the very air. Even Dean could smell it. Of course, he had way too much experience with that particular smell.

Benny had called his bluff because Dean couldn't do it, he couldn't kill the vamp. Because Benny might not be lying about a way out. Because Benny saved his life that first time and now again by standing with him. "You even fantasize about taking a chomp out of me, you'll be dead before you hit the ground," Dean dangerously vowed, thought the vampire had seen enough of his moves to know that it wasn't a bluff nor a baseless brag.

"Fair enough." Then, with Dean's knife still pressed to his neck, Benny lifted Dean's shirt. At the sight of the welling blood, he didn't flash fangs, instead he gave a sympathetic grimace. "He got you pretty good."

"Thanks Doctor McDreamy," Dean snarked.

"Who?" Benny questioned, confusion on his features.

Dean rolled his eyes at the vampire's puzzlement, had forgotten that Benny hadn't been topside for nearly fifty years. "Doctor McCoy?" he moderated as he finally conceded and pulled his knife blade from the vulnerable flesh of Benny's neck.

At that reference, Benny smiled like a joke had been passed between them. "That make you Captain Kirk?"

With a cocky smile, Dean boasted, "If you knew my track record with the women, you wouldn't have to ask that."

"Alright Casanova, take a load off," Benny advised as he half helped and half pushed Dean down to take a seat at the base of a tree. But when he reached out to shift Dean's shirt to get a look, his hand touched Dean's shoulder, initiated their first flesh to flesh contact. To Dean's surprise, it was the vampire who startled at the exchange.

"What?" Dean roughly accused, muscles taut, not sure if the vampire suddenly couldn't pass on a little Scooby snack after all.

Wide eyed, Benny looked at his companion. "Your skin…it's warm."

It wasn't a condition Dean was used to having to defend. "Not a vampire, remember."

"No, I mean…." Benny stalled out there, eyes narrowing in contemplation before he decided to continue. "Everything I've ever encountered here, it's been cold to the touch. And you're….not." The oddity of that rattled him more than he'd like.

Puzzled at the newest revelation, Dean sarcastically scoffed, "Great. Another way I don't fit in. I'll never make the pep squad now."

But Benny had on his serious face, interrogated, "How'd you get here? You die?"

Dean grimaced. It wasn't really a memory he relished, acing Dick, yeah, but the waking up in Purgatory as a victory prize, not so much. 'Proves that, even when I win…I lose.' To his curious co-traveler he awkwardly admited, "Hard to know." At Benny's unblinking stare, he huffed, "I killed the head honcho Leviathan with a blessed piece of wood. He exploded and, presto, I woke up here."

Benny's expression only grew more full of wonder. "You're…" and he reached out, intended to put his hand on Dean's neck.

Fearfully, Dean grabbed Benny's hand, ensured the vampire kept his paws to himself. "Whoa, personal space."

But Dean's hand encircling his, it told Benny what he needed to know and could hardly believe. "You're flesh and blood."

"Last time I checked," Dean countered, not sure when that stopped being obvious.

"You didn't die..more like you …." Benny smirked, suddenly knew what comparison Dean would appreciate, " …jumped on the Enterprise transporter and ended up here."

Dean didn't even try to hold back his matching smirk, was beginning to think that Benny might not be a bad guy to have around…for a vampire. "Remind me to fire Scotty."

Benny found himself chuckling…for the first time in nearly fifty years.

But it wasn't slipping past Dean's notice that Benny was suddenly eyeing him up differently, and not in the big-bad-wolf-let's-have-grandma-for-dinner way. Thank God. But that didn't mean he liked it. "What?" he snapped.

Benny shook his head in astonishment. "I can't believe my survival's hitched to you."

"And that's so awful, why?! If anyone should be complaining about this so called partnership, it should be me. At least I'm not tempted to eat you…well, not yet," Dean snarked back.

"It ain't your questionable companionship that bothers me."

"Well, that's a relief," Dean sarcastically sniped but when Benny didn't seem about to elaborate he demanded, "So then what is it?"

Holding Dean's gaze across the dark expansion, Benny debated whether or not to tell Dean what had him on edge. 'If you want Dean to trust you, he'll have to trust the man in return,' he rationalized before he began to haltingly speak his mind. "You….you're…."

"I'm what?" Dean defensively prodded, brow furrowing, thought Benny shouldn't have any complaints, that he was being a pretty fair guy considering his companion came with a second row of teeth.

Standing up, Benny started to gather the makings of a fire, didn't like that Dean warily watched his movements, leaned back when he knelt across from him. It spoke of a sad absence of the trust he wanted to achieve. Not sure if his honesty would sever any meager trust Dean might be thinking of offering to him or not, he said, "Me trying to get you across the wilds of Purgatory…it's like trying to take a kitten through a tornado."

"I'm not a friggin' kitten," Dean indignantly growled, knocked away Benny's hand as it reached for his wound. His agony spiking at his ill-advised movement, he ended up bracing the wound with his own hand.

Utilizing his supreme strength, Benny forced Dean's hand away from the wound. "I stand corrected. You're a feral kitten that would rather claw and hiss then get patched up and protected."

Dean's planned retort was waylaid by an unplanned hiss of pain as Benny pressed on the wound in an attempt to clot the blood flow.

"There ain't much here far as a med kit goes but there's fire," the vampire announced, praying he didn't have to spell things out for the human.

"Great, another hot poker burn," Dean muttered under his breath.

"What?" Benny had caught the words, just didn't understand them.

"Nothing," Dean grumbled before he endorsed with bitter grace, "Fine. Cauterize the wound."

And half an hour later, when the blade of Ruby's knife was a hot glow, Benny withdrew the knife from the small fire and met Dean's eyes. When he got a permissive nod from Dean, he inhaled, didn't relish the prospect of inflicting pain on the vulnerable human's flesh. But he knew the consequences of infection would be worse if he didn't take drastic measures now. So with a steadying inhale, he settled his one hand on Dean's shoulder to hold the man down and then pressed the searing blade into Dean's seeping wound.

To Dean's credit, the man didn't scream, gave only a choked growl of torment.

Dean bit back the scream aching to rip out of his chest, knew he couldn't dare let it loose. Because screaming had been an acceptable, even an applauded response in Hell, but in Purgatory, it was like ringing a dinner bell…and offering himself up as the main meal.

As the pain crested, Dean felt his grip on consciousness begin to fade away and with it came stark panic. Purgatory wasn't a place to let down your guard. And letting himself be helpless under the watchful eye of the vampire?! That could very well be his last mistake.

When a hand cupped the side of his neck, Dean wanted to flinch away but the lassitude seeping over him was too strong, left him unable to move. Though he expected sharp teeth to sink into his neck just above the vampire's grip, that pain never came. Instead Benny's southern drawl floated above him.

"Easy, kitty cat. I got your back. Nobody's gonna make you into Chinese stir fry…least not tonight. Not under my watch."

Since his natural response would have been to hurl out 'bite me' at Benny's words, Dean thought it best, for once, that he couldn't talk. And, though it was probably the stupidest thing he could think then, he suddenly didn't feel so apprehensive about slipping under the haze. Because though he might be helpless right then, he wasn't alone.

Watching Dean go boneless, Benny felt almost grateful the stupid idiot's body had a pain threshold even if the man's bravado didn't. Shucking out of his jacket, he tucked it around Dean, was almost anticipating the man's sour look when he woke up covered in a vamp's attire. "Huh," Benny said aloud, because that was a novelty…him looking forward to something. It had been a long while, like fifty years, since that had happened. And he wasn't such a dreamer to think it was all about the prospect of getting topside again. Because he was a realist too, knew that the chances of that actually coming about…wasn't great.

No, it was something else that gave him an appreciation for another day of life…or rather, a day he just might not die.

A very vulnerable human was now under his care. And sure, the circumstances of that responsibility had come about due to his own selfish desire to get out of the never-ending kill or be killed cycle of Purgatory. But no matter the reasons, the end result was the same: He needed to keep Dean Winchester alive.

But there was more to his companion than simply a means to an end, being his 'soul train.' He was starting to see that now. Since hitching his wagon to Dean, he had started to think that the journey might just matter more than the destination. And it wasn't just because the odds of them actually reaching their destination when everything had a hankering to snuff out Dean's lifeforce were slim to none. No, it was the startling fact that traveling with Dean, it wasn't going to get boring anytime soon and he was actually starting to enjoy the man's company, like he hadn't anyone else's in a long while, even before he got turned.

Not that he was going to admit that, especially to the cocky human, any time soon.

SNSNSN ~ Present ~ SNSNSNSNSN

Not wanting to dwell on Benny and the fact that the vampire had occupied his rightful spot at Dean's side in Purgatory, Sam gives Dean his best 'I'm-going-to-get-my-way-because-I'm-not-backing-d own' glower. "Ok, well…I'm walking out of here," he announces, hitches the bags higher on his shoulder, both his and Dean's, hopes Dean recognizes his resolve, and his intent to not only take his bag but Dean's too.

"No, you're not," Dean disdains, calling Sam's bluff. But Sam's not loosening his hold on the bags.

"Come with me," Sam invites, hopes Dean doesn't know he's holding his breath, is fighting back the urge to resort to pleading or force to make him come with him.

"Sam, you're not leaving," Dean refutes Sam's declaration, but Sam's set features tell him differently. 'Crap, he's really gonna leave. With or without me.' "We're not leaving!" Because, for Dean, they were a package deal, whether Sam wanted it to be that way or not.

Exploiting Dean's big brother tendencies to protect him, Sam drawls, "I'll probably make a nice target, going it solo." When Dean makes no reply, he holds Dean's gaze, waiting for Dean to break down and concede to him. When that doesn't happen, doesn't even seem likely, he nearly breaks. This isn't how he saw this playing out. Thought Dean would always put his safety first, that he could use that lever like he had a hundred times before to make sure that it was Dean that came out unscathed. "Kay," he briskly says and then he starts walking, praying with each step to hear Dean coming up behind him, closing in the increasing gap between them, physically and emotionally.

To Sam's departing back, Dean sarcastically taunts, "You choosing to leave, what a shocker."

At Dean's spiteful words, Sam nearly stumbles, regains his balance at the last second enough to take another step and another. Is kinda glad Dean can't see his face, doesn't get to revel in the hurt he's inflicting.

"Least you can do is leave me my bag!" Dean shouts, can't believe Sam would leave him defenseless, especially in light of his confession that the forest reminded him of Purgatory. It made him doubt that Sam was up front with him about why he didn't go back to Amelia. Maybe Sam just told him what he wanted to hear. Maybe it was more about the husband being alive, about Amelia not taking him back…about Sam not having anywhere else to go but back to his crazy brother and the eternal hunts.

Sam spins around, face morphed now from anger to anguish, "No, the least I can do is not put you through….this," he emphasizes, arms going wide indicating the wall to wall forest he had brought his brother into the heart of.

Sam's open consideration for his fear, it stuns Dean, makes his voice come out pained, quiet and shamed, "So what, I add another thing to my phobia list?! The list's getting pretty long, Sam," self-disgust tainting the observation.

Sensing the lowering of Dean's emotional walls, Sam steps a few paces back to his brother, passionately defends, "Dean, the things you're not scared of would have any other person, hunter or not, crapping in their pants!" When Dean shuffles on his feet, Sam knows he's starting to get through. "Just give yourself some time, Dean," he gently insists, hates that Dean's his own cruelest critic.

Dean snorts, rubs his hand over his face, wishes Sam wasn't being so accepting of his failings. "Time, right? To hide?!" he bitter refutes.

Closing in more of the space between he and Dean, Sam corrects, "To process things, to…to heal." And there's not so much censure and denial in Dean's features then as there was before. Adopting a light teasing tone, he suggests, "Hey, a year from now, we can camp out, do it for a month. If you want to."

Dean can't fight back a smirk, knows what Sam's doing. "Yeah, a month?! Not happening."

Sam's smile isn't about a nearly sealed victory, is instead soft, affectionate, supporting . "Let's go," he says, gentle warmth there, coaxing Dean to agree, to go with him.

Dean is on the verge of agreeing but can't just capitulate, knows there's more to think about than his wishes. His eyes leave Sam, drift to the woods that encompass them, that most likely harbor a Wendigo. "Sam, that thing already grabbed three people. If we leave…if someone else gets taken…killed…"

"Who's it going to take Dean?" Sam calmly questions. "We're the only souls out here. The rangers put out warnings about possible bear attacks and it's off season for regular campers. Besides, Garth will have another hunter out here before the week's out. Nothing's going to happen to anybody in the meantime." Pulling Dean's bag off his shoulder, he holds it out for Dean, the invitation clear: 'Go with me. Stay with me, Dean.'

Though Dean feels like a coward for accepting the free pass Sam's offering him, he's a grateful coward. Fights hard to not bypass the bag Sam's offering him and go in for a brotherly hug, because this…Sam's understanding, his little brother's lack of criticism for his weakness, it means more to him than Sam will ever know.

Coming forward, he takes the proffered bag from Sam, settles it on his shoulder and meets Sam's eyes. Sam doesn't say anything but his eyes convey his relief and his contentment at Dean's decision. Then, together, they begin the trek back to where they left the Impala yesterday, with every intention of being out of the forest before the sun goes down.

But the fates apparently weren't on Sam's side because it's not ten minutes into their trek when the unexpected sound of voices carry to them.

Turning to Sam, Dean challenges with a mixture of accusation and frustration, "We're the only souls out here, huh, Sam?"

Irritably, Sam heaps inaudibly curses on the campers who were approaching because, with the arrival of possible victims for the Wendigo, he knew that his odds of getting Dean to leave the forest just went to nil.

SNSNSNSNSN

Tbc

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Now you didn't actually think it would be that easy for the boys to quit on a hunt, did you? (Yeah, I didn't think I could fool you.)

Thanks for reading and for the wonderful words of support you guys bestowed on me!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.