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 5: Getting the Upper Hand
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Rule # 5: Survival's not about getting the upper hand, it's about the depths you'll go just to see another day.
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The first cabin's a pass but the next one they strike gold…or rather the unsightly and putrid smell of rotten flesh. Dean kicks in the door and barrels into the gloomy interior, behind him Sam gags, is as close to losing his lunch as he's ever been on the job. But he stumbles in, refuses to leave Dean's back unguarded.
The smell inside the small shack burns Sam's nostrils, hits his gut like acid.
Beside him, Dean is indifferent to the wretched odor of death.
Dean's visual search comes up goose eggs on a Wendigo. But the creature hadn't bothered to clean up his dinner table yet. Redirecting his flashlight's beam, Dean studies the three bodies dangling from the ceiling beams. Though Sam, with his shirt pulled up and held over his nose, is stepping forward, is going to see if any of the three hanging bodies bear life, Dean knows it's a lost cause. Knows death came for them already.
"All dead," Sam reports, turns to see Dean using the barrel of his gun to turn over bones on the table, lift up papers. The bodies nor the smell are fazing Dean. And that is troubling, has Sam recalling Dean's words about Purgatory.
"I remember the heat, the stink, the pain, the fear. I remember every second."
When Dean speaks, it gives Sam an opportunity to shy away from that horrible truth. "Looks like he's not the kind to savor, went and downed these guys…and I think gal…" Dean says using the gun to point to the corpses, "..like there's no winter coming. So he's going to need more." Pointedly looking at Sam now, knows Sam can see where this is leading to: the Wendigo on his way back to the mad professor's merry band.
As cold-hearted as it is, Sam is reluctant to leave, to give up their advantage. They knew where the thing's lair was now, could wait right there for it to come back and end it on the door step. No more traipsing through the woods, no more interaction with Mac and group, just kill it and put the forest in their rearview mirror.
But he knows as well as Dean that if they stay at the cabin, the Wendigo wouldn't be returning home empty handed. It would most likely have one or more of Mac's study group in hand…maybe even already with their necks snapped or them bleeding out. That should sway Sam more than it does, the thought of innocent lives being lost.
His eyes, however, drift up to the dangling corpses. Cruelly, his mind replaces their forms with Dean's…remembers the terror of seeing his brother's body dangling from the cave, his brother's eyes closed, his brother's body….not moving. Recalls his thoughts then…that he had just lost Jess, that he couldn't lose Dean too….that if Dean were gone, there was no reason for him to go on.
Surprised to see that it's Sam whose attention is transfixed on the corpses, Dean crosses the distance that separates him from Sam. Putting a hand on his brother's shoulder, he notes that Sam doesn't jump at the contact but sighs and shuts his eyes, like his touch is a balm, offers reassurances Sam desperately needs. "Hey, you alright?" Dean gently asks, knows that its tough, seeing death like this…well, it should be, for someone not desensitized to it, someone who didn't just spend a solid year up to his neck in death. 'Heck, more like a lifetime of it.'
Dean's touch, Dean's voice, it all helps, allows Sam to give a nod, to open his eyes, to see the corpses and be certain none of them are Dean. Not this time. 'Not yet.' Because that was the thing with Dean being back from the dead, now Sam had to live with that dread again. ..that Dean would die again. And never come back to him.
Sheepishly he shoots a glance to Dean, "Sorry. I guess my wussy, pacifist side is showing," he tries to joke, make light of the lost moment to his fears.
But there's no condemnation in Dean's eyes as they leave Sam's and travel up to the corpses. "Don't apologize for feeling something, Sammy."
And Sam is starting to get good at reading Dean's reactions. "Guess this is mild compared to what was around every corner in Purgatory, huh?"
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Dean stumbled to a stop, stooped over, braced his hands on his knees and struggled to ease the painful burn in his lungs from the ten mile run he, Cas and Benny had just done to keep ahead of the four different pair of vetalas looking for the sweet meat of a human hide. Though Benny had endurance on his side, he was still winded. Cas, however, wasn't even breathing heavy, was patiently waiting for his companions to renew their strengths. It gave him time to notice something just ahead, hanging from a tree.
"Dean," Cas tersely said, trusting Dean to know how to handle the new discovery.
Cas' tone setting him on edge, Dean quickly followed Cas' line of sight…to the bodies hanging from the trees, like a scene from a Western. Pushing aside his exhaustion, Dean stood upright, stumbled more than walked his first step, didn't remark as Benny gripped his arm and steadied him. Then, side by side, the human and vampire approached the corpses.
There were twelve humanoid bodies dangling from the branches of three trees, bodies that were drained of their blood and most of their meaty flesh was lost, either by cuts from a knife …or teeth. Dean had seen bodily desecration like this before: in Hell. Had personal experience with it…his own body under Alistair's skillful hands…and other helpless souls under his own, novice but just as ruthless, hands.
Reaching out, Benny stopped the swaying of one of the corpses. "I heard tell of a vampire pack that takes the blood of its vics and barters off the rest of the spoils. Leader's a real entrepreneur. Guess he's one of those, 'rather reign in hell than serve in heaven' types."
'Like me,' Dean silently compared and it wasn't a welcome thought, that someone with the capacity for that level of brutality was in Purgatory, could be stalking them right then. "I have a bad feeling about this. Let's get going."
"We're in Purgatory, brother. You ever get a good feeling in this place and I'll start to think you snapped," Benny morbidly joked, shooting a smile to Dean. But Dean's face wasn't cracking a smile and Benny read a grimness, a fear in his friend that he rarely saw. It was enough to rejuvenate his energy. "Alright then. We move out."
But the threesome hadn't gone more than a mile before Benny sensed a vampire pack behind them. Grabbing Dean's wrist, he halted their head long pace. Cas came up just as short when he sensed his companions were slowing. Eyes meeting Dean's, Benny warned, "They are coming up fast. After the day of running we've had, chances of us outpacing them ain't good, Dean."
Grimly, Dean pulled out his Purgatory forged knife. "Guess we stand and fight then, give them the old tried and true welcome party."
Cas didn't protest the decision, knew that, though he could "blip" out of the danger zone, taking Dean or Benny with him had proven too much strain for him. So he stood with Dean, knew they made a strange mini- line of defense: a human, a vampire and an angel.
Hand flexing on the handle of the knife, Dean was geared up to go mano-a-mano against however many vamps walked from the shadows…until the leader of the vampire pack stepped into the meager light. "Oh crap," he muttered under his breath, felt more than saw the anxious look Benny shot him at his rare show of dread.
"When I heard a human was in Purgatory, my first thought was 'Good, I'd have another crack at little Sammy'," Gordon Walker greeted, his white human teeth gleaming as he took in the sight of the elder Winchester.
"Sorry to disappoint you," Dean returned, his smug smile attesting that he was anything but sorry he was there facing off with the hunter-turned-vampire instead of Sam.
If Benny had a heart-rate, he knew it would be going off the meter, because whoever this vamp was, whatever situation they were ensnared in, it had Dean rattled. And Dean didn't get rattled. Sensing the malice building in the black man, malice that was all being directed toward, Benny silently cursed and protectively shifted closer to Dean.
"I still remember the taste of your blood, Dean," Gordon claimed, advancing toward Dean, his smile still in place, like it was a fond memory, one he was interested in reliving..or repeating. Then, nearly soundlessly, his pack of eighteen vampires stepped from the gloom to flank him. "And I remember how it felt when your little brother severed my head from my body…" his smile fell away, was replaced by an expression promising brutal retribution as he qualified," … with barb wire."
"Good times," Dean cockily rasped, eyes glittering, hand tightening on the knife handle, heart pounding, waiting.
Eyes holding Dean's, Gordon could see that Purgatory hadn't broken Winchester, had somehow only made him stronger. And that was Ok with him. He didn't want their battle to be too unfair, wanted Dean to put up a good fight, not die too soon, especially before he could enjoy himself. "This time, your brother's not here to save you from me, Dean," Gordon taunted.
"But I am," Benny piped in, showing his vampire fangs for the first time, proving that, unlike Dean, he was on Gordon's level of play.
Gordon accepted the revelation of Benny's vampirism with a calm nod of his head, like it made some kind of sense to him.
"You always had a soft spot for the monsters…like little Sammy," Gordon said a moment later with a sardonic smirk.
"Bad news for you is, I still have standards, so I'm not friending you on Facebook," Dean quipped, eyes slipping to Gordon's vamp groupies, noting that they were obedient to Gordon to a fault, were waiting for the black man's signal before they pounced.
Amused, Gordon shook his head, smiled. "Dean, still with the smart mouth."
Grinning, Dean boasted, "Couldn't give up one of my best traits."
At Dean's side, Benny drawled, "Personally, Dean, I like your good judge of character," the insult to Gordon clear.
But Gordon wasn't one to lose his temper, was cold hearted and meticulous. "My Dean, your new buddy is like a clone of you…except for the teeth. What will Sammy say about being replaced? Or wait? Did someone give him what he deserved? His guts ripped out."
"I've gotta pop your bubble on that one. Sammy's alive and well." At least that was what Dean kept telling himself, over and over again, that his brother was still alive and, somehow, he would get back to him. Of course, he could only keep that vow if he didn't let Gordon drink him dry.
Gordon theatrically sighed. "Oh, well. Guess my consolation prize is getting to take my time and enjoy your pain, hearing you scream."
Dean snorted derogatorily. "Good luck with that Gordy. I spent forty years in Hell. Anything you can dish out…it'll be school-yard tactics compared to what I've been through."
Head swiveling to Dean, Benny was unable to mask his shock at Dean's confession. Hell. Forty years. It explained a lot. Too much. It made his stomach churn, just guessing what his friend had been put through there. 'No wonder he's managed to stay alive here and hasn't gone all Loony Tunes in the process.'
Gordon wasn't looking so brazen after Dean's admission. "Hell. Thought that was more Sammy's final resting place than yours."
"Wasn't final," Dean brashly corrected.
"Yeah, I can see that. So now you're in our little universe here. Not sure it's much of an upgrade."
Dean's smile was savage. "Let's just say, roaming free and having a fighting chance, it sure beats being strapped to a torture rack for all of eternity, any day of the week."
Gordon nodded, like he actually had some familiarity in that comparison. "So what, Hell didn't even want you? That says a lot about your soul."
Suddenly Cas vanished from his position beside Benny and reappeared in the space between Dean and Gordon. "You're not worthy to talk about his soul," Cas lowly growled, reaching out, intending to blast the vampire's soul from his corporal body.
But Gordon Walker had been a hunter long before he was a vampire, had honed instincts and the skills to do battle with supernatural beings. Dodging Cas' reaching hand and letting his vampire teeth fall into place, Gordon sank his teeth into the trench coat wearing man's arm. But there was no registration of pain in the man's blue eyes, told Gordon that he had underestimated Dean's second companion, too.
Instantly releasing his hold on his less-than-human opponent, Gordon skittered backwards. But when Cas seemed intent on continuing their confrontation and Dean's vampire was stepping forward to join in on the fun, the vampire leader changed tactics, reassessed the situation. And he was always good at determining his opponent's weaknesses and exploiting them, do so now, almost too easily. "Kill the human," he smugly ordered his pack, because Dean's vampire and trench coat wearing friends, it was obvious that they valued Dean, would not waste time attacking him when Dean was in jeopardy.
Like a well-trained assault team, the vampires leapt forward, Dean their sole target.
Dean boldly stepped forward, aiming to meet the charging vampires half way. But he found Benny almost instantly in his path, beheading the closest vampire. Benny lobbed off another head before Dean could growl out, "Benny, fall back!"
But Benny had no plans to obey that command. He would stand there between Dean and the whole of Purgatory if he had to. Seeing with satisfaction that Cas had teleported behind the gathered vampires, was waging war on their rear flanks, he realized that, between him and the angel, they would squeeze the pack in the middle. However, the next second, Benny sensed Gordon darted by his minions, knew the vampire leader was going to try and come at Dean from the left. "Dean!" Benny shouted in warning, turning to dissuade Gordon from getting any closer to Dean. But the move left him vulnerable to the advancing horde and only Dean's "Duck!" allowed him to move fast enough to keep his head.
When Dean's pathetic concern for his vampire friend distracted the hunter, Gordon quickly closed in the distance that separated him from the human and swung a metal spiked tree branch at his former ally's head.
Taking his own advice, Dean ducked, felt the spikes of Gordon's weapon whoosh harmlessly through his hair. Then he went on the offensive, lashed out with his purgatory blade but Gordon was too quick, jumped back out of the knife's arc. Without warning, a cold hand dropped onto Dean's collarbone and Dean knew it wasn't Benny telling him he had his back. Though he expected to feel fangs sinking into his shoulder, instead he ended up with blood splattering his hair as Benny came slicing into his battle, cutting the girl vamp's neck.
Giving Dean a shove, Benny shouted, "Go! Run! Cas and I will hold them off!" because Dean was the target here, not them. And Benny knew down deep, in whatever was left of his soul, that if Dean stayed by his side, tried to take on the numbers they were facing, the man would die. And Benny couldn't let that happen. Wouldn't let it end like that for someone as close to him as a brother.
"Run, Dean! Now!" He bellowed, stepping in to block a downward swing of Gordon's club before it sliced Dean in half. And in that freeze frame moment, his eyes held Dean's and he hoped the man realized just how much his friendship meant to him. "Go! You know the way out. Find it," he commanded, would make this sacrifice for Dean without regret, just as long as the man he loved like a brother got out of Purgatory.
Dean opened his mouth to tell Benny just what he could do with his suggestion… but then he forced himself to assess the situation, the odds, to not react on gut instincts. To listen to a little voice inside him that sounded a lot like Sam's affectionately lecturing voice: 'Dean, just once, think things through before you go all kamikaze, use something we civilized people call logic to solve a problem.' And right now, logic said he, Benny and Cas would all die there if he didn't do something. Because Gordon, he had trained his pack well, taught them to go for the jugular, to go down fighting, to obey his commands to the death. And that meant, Gordon's horde of vampires would mercilessly tear through Benny and Cas, if they could, just to get to him.
And Dean couldn't let his friends die for him. Not Benny and not Cas again.
Taking the head off a vampire charging him from the right, Dean snarled to Gordon who Benny was presently locked in mortal combat with, "Gordy, you want to drown in my blood, you're gonna have to work for it." Then he bolted away into the woods ahead, knew that Gordon would take up pursuit, that Gordon's groupies would follow in their leader's wake, would leave Benny and Cas behind, alive.
When Gordon shoved him away and tore off after Dean, Benny almost stumbled at the loss of his fighting counterweight. Was nearly shoulder checked as most of the rest of the vampire pack dutifully followed their leader's example…and took up the chase after Dean.
Dread instantly settled in Benny's gut. Suddenly he understood the error he had made, that Dean hadn't left to save himself. No, the fool had left to save him, to draw the pack away from him and Cas.
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Dean doesn't meet Sam's eyes as he turns away from the corpses, says as he passes Sam, "Doing it for survival, is one thing. Doing it just for kicks…that's another type of evil altogether."
The comparison puts a chill down Sam's spine. Not just the mental image it conjures in him but because he has detected a dose of self-disgust in his brother's tone. Silently, Sam curses himself. How could he have forgotten that Purgatory wasn't the only place that Dean had to adapt to or die. There had been his time in Hell, where, unlike Sam, Dean had been given a choice, a way to stop the agony. And Dean, after thirty years, had taken it.
And Sam was never more joyful at Dean's decision than his very first day in Hell, in the Cage. Because that was the day he fully understood the true meaning of eternal torment and it made him curse Dean for not saying 'yes' to Alistair thirty years sooner.
Putting his memories back into his mental lockbox, Sam leaves the bodies behind and exits the cabin, is relieved that Dean's waiting for him. "So I'm guessing you want to go protect Zeke and the others."
Dean gives Sam a sarcastically 'well yeah' look, says a beat later. "Ahhh…what else would we do."
'Right, hunting things, saving people,' Sam bitterly mutters their family motto to himself. If it were up to him, the motto would only have one mandate: don't let your stupid, heroic brother die on you again. Aloud he schemes to do just that, "Well, why don't I go back, set up the Anasazi protection a half mile around Mac's camp, and if the Wendigo shows, I herd him back here, where you torch him." There, clean, nice, and leaving Dean in a place of advantage aka protection, especially if Sam could take out the Wendigo before it ever reached the cabin and subsequently Dean.
Not surprisingly, Dean rejects it out of hand. "This isn't cattle we're steering toward the barn, Sam. It's a hungry, feral, Wendigo, one who doesn't bother marinating his meals, believes in fast food. No, we need to neutralize it on sight, no herding, none of Mac's 'come back from the darkside' chantings, just it dead, burned to a crisp. Now stow the debate. We gotta get back to their camp." Giving Sam a pat on the chest, he starts back the way they had come at a run.
With a resigned sigh and a prayer that today isn't the day the monster gets the upper hand on the infamous Winchester brothers, Sam sets off after his brother. Using his long legs, he quickly breaches the distance between them and then stays doggedly at Dean's side because where Dean goes….he goes. Was his motto as a little kid and now, here in this place, it has become his decree all over again, except with a tenacity Dean would make fun of…if he took notice of it.
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Tbc
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Thanks so much for reading and I'm just loving all of your comments!
And yes, I totally admit that it was mean of me to leave the flashback as a cliffie. (hee hee)
Have a great day!
Cheryl W.
