Disclaimer: ...no...

A/N: I have just had one of the worst days ever, so am not going to say too much. You all made me happy though-- seven reviews, plus one e-mailed to me. Added to that, a bunch of you posted 'multiple' reviews in one chapter. So--- yes... within the next couple of days-- at most a week-- I will continue to post on 'A Windy Story'-- I hope you'll still post on these one shots though. If not... that's ok. I'm going now-- enjoy!

Title: First Hunt
Genre: Mildly suspensful, and angsty.
Summary: A small tale of Sam's first hunt with John and Dean.

First Hunt

"Rules."

"Dad," Sam groaned loudly, "We don't need to go over them again."

"We do if you want to come with us," John spoke sternly as Dean snickered behind him.

Ten year old Sam wanted to punch his brother, and would have if their Dad wasn't around. But instead he took a deep breath to calm himself and looked intently at John.

"Rules," John repeated, "You are not to use the gun at all on this hunt. You are not to leave your brothers sight for even one minute. At the first sign of any trouble that you don't think you can handle, you are to leave and come find me," John glanced back at the fifteen year old, "That means you too."

"Yes Sir," Dean responded obediently.

"Alright," John nodded, "Both of you get in the car."

Sam walked by Dean, smacking him in the stomach as he went. Dean muttered a cuss word under his breath at his little brother and hopped in the front seat. Sam got into the back seat and let his heart beat slowly quicken as their Dad drove to the abandoned farm just outside of the town. It was Sam's first hunt that he was allowed to go on, and though his Dad had been preparing him for years, he was still nervous. Dean had been hunting since Sam could remember, and the younger brother had always been jealous.

He wasn't anymore.

"Alright," John spoke up all too soon as he pulled the car into an old, dusty lot, "We're here."

Dean eagerly got out of the car, followed by John. Sam, however, hesitated a moment before pushing open the door of the Impala.

Immediately John went to the back trunk and began to pull things out as he talked, "It sounds like a simple enough case here. There was a man that hanged himself in the barn at the back of the field, and now his spirit is scaring the animals around here."

"Dad, why are we doing this in the dark?" Sam asked, looking around at the quickly darkening sky.

"Scared Sammy?" Dean teased.

"Dean…" John spoke the one word warning before turning his attention to his youngest, "We're going at night because spirits come out more at certain times of the day. And this one likes the night time. Don't worry-- everyone will have a flashlight."

At this John started to hand out weapons, turning first to Dean with a small barrel shotgun, "Keep the safety on until you see something. And for God sake, watch out for your brother with it."

"I know," Dean took the gun, "Rock salt?"

"Yes," John nodded, handing a flashlight to Dean.

"Sammy," John pulled out a small bladed machete, "You remember the training with this-- I want you to be careful. If the thing appears, let Dean get it with the rock salt. Last resort is you using this. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir," Sam took the weapon from his Dad, followed by another flashlight.

"Do any of you have any questions?" John asked, taking his own weapon and light from the trunk before slamming it shut.

"No Sir," the brothers answered in unison.

Their Dad had spent hours the night before going over all of the details of the case and what it was they were supposed to do. John was right-- it did seem like and easy hunt.

So they thought.

"Alright, we'll split up. Meet back at the car in half an hour," John nodded, "And be careful."

Dean paused, "You too Dad."

John smiled and silently walked off, leaving Sam and Dean in the still quiet.

"Do you and Dad always split up?" Sam asked as they walked slowly across the field.

"Sometimes," Dean nodded, "If the hunt is an easy one like this we'll split up. But if it's a harder one, or a case where we don't really know what the thing is, we'll stick together."

"We'll be ok though, right?" Sam asked, panning the flashlight out onto the grass field; the sun had completely sunk into the horizon by this time.

Dean grinned, "We'll be fine Sammy. Just stick with me, and stay quiet."

Wordlessly Sam nodded his head, and they made their way further in. Everything was quiet for the next ten minutes, and Dean was fully convinced that perhaps their Dad had found the spirit, and was going to suggest they head back when a noise suddenly came from their left.

"What was that?" Sam's voice quivered out.

"Behind me Sammy," Dean ordered and pointed the gun out to their left, carefully unhinging the safety.

A large, gutted house sat to their left with nearly every window smashed out of it. The moonlight splashed against the paint peeled sides, and a broken off door stared ominously at the two brothers. Again a loud banging noise came from the inside.

"Dean…" Sam whispered out.

"It's ok Sammy," Dean felt his own heart beat quickening, "Come on. Stay behind me, and keep your eyes open."

Sam nodded, and gripped his weapon tighter. Slowly Dean made his way into the house, looking around once inside. Everything was gutted out, and the whole place looked like the inside of a barn with random rafters hanging down, and debris strewn around everywhere.

"Come on you bastard, I know you're in here," Dean whispered out, spinning in a slow circle.

Adrenaline pumped through Dean as he made a full circle and a half to face his brother. He was about to say something when suddenly the older brother's gun was ripped out of his hand, and his body was flung harshly against the wall of the old building.

"Dean!" Sam cried out.

"Sam, run!" Dean yelled out.

Sam stared, eyes wide, as the image of a large man wearing overalls appeared in front of Dean, who remained crumpled on the floor. It held a rope tightly in its hands and took a large step towards Dean. Sam, in turn, took a step towards it.

"Sam go!" Dean ordered out desperately as he backed himself into the wall further.

Sam took a deep breath to muster up his courage before yelling to the angered spirit, "Hey you!"

The thing turned around, and Sam swung the machete straight through its head. Silence suddenly enveloped the house as the spirit disappeared.

"Dean," Sam's voice quivered out.

"Sammy," Dean smiled and panned his light up towards his little brother.

No sooner had he done this, than the angered spirit reappeared, and this time threw young Sam across the room, and into a pile of rubble against the far end.

"Sammy!" Dean called out, and picked up his gun.

Without hesitating Dean shot two quick rounds through the thing, which let out a loud yell and burst into nothingness. Once again leaving the Winchester's in silence.

"Sammy!" Dean's panicked voice erupted out as he dashed over to where Sam lay on the ground.

Sam sat up suddenly, breathing hard, "Dean… is it gone?"

Dean fell down to his knees in front of Sam, "Just… sit for a second while I check you out Sammy."

Sam's heart beat furiously in his chest, his eyes darting around the empty room as Dean investigated the condition his little brother was in.

"What hurts?" Dean asked urgently.

"Nothing," Sam shook his head, "Is it gone Dean?"

"Yeah, it's gone," Dean confirmed, "But you got the wind knocked out of you kid. I have to make sure you're ok."

"I'm ok," Sam looked at Dean, "But--" Sam's voice suddenly quivered out in fear, "Dean, your head is bleeding."

Dean's hand moved up to his forehead, wincing in pain as he felt a slight bump and warm blood, "It's ok Sammy, I didn't hit it that hard. Can you stand up?"

Sam nodded his head, and Dean got up to extend a hand. Sam gratefully accepted the help, and groaned at the pain as he got to his feet.

"You alright?" Dean immediately asked, panning his flashlight once again on Sam.

"My arm," Sam's voice came out quiet as he looked down at his arm.

"Oh God…" Dean breathed looking at Sam's arm.

A cut ran along the upper arm of the younger brother which bleed steadily. For a moment Dean stared at the injury before finally letting loose in a low laugh.

"What's so funny Dean?" Sam frowned at his brother.

Dean grinned, "Man, this is your first hunt, and you saved my ass, and got your first battle scar. Not bad Sammy."

Sam smiled, "It's not so hard."

Dean shook his head, "Come on-- lets go find Dad."

Sam agreed as the two of them walked out into the moonlight splashed field. The walk back was quicker paced, and soon the Impala came into view; John waiting by the hood of the vehicle.

"Dad!" Dean called out.

"Dad!" Sam echoed, "Guess what!"

John's eyes slowly widened as his boys, and their injuries, came more into focus.

"We caught it!" Sam called out triumphantly.

"Dean…" John's voice was hoarse as the family met up, "What happened?"

Dean smiled, "Sammy and I got it."

John tilted Dean's head downwards and shinned his flashlight on the wound, "It looks like it almost got you two."

"Yeah…" Dean nervously nodded.

John caught sight of Sam's arm and immediately went to the car to grab some first aid materials. Returning, he grabbed a large piece of gauze and held it against Sam's arm.

"Are you boys ok?" John questioned, and turned towards Dean, "Other than Sammy's arm, and your head-- are you hurt?"

"I'm not," Dean shook his head negatively.

"Sammy?" John apprehensively looked at his youngest, "Are you alright?"

"I'm ok Dad," Sam insisted.

"What happened?" John asked, turning his attention onto Dean's forehead.

"The thing caught us off guard Dad, I'm sorry," Dean apologized, "It threw me against the wall, knocking the shot gun out of my hand. Then," a smile came to Dean's face, "-- then Sam hit it with the machete. It disappeared for just long enough for me to get the gun back, then it flung Sammy. I caught it with two rounds of rock salt."

"It was the farmer?" John wanted to know.

"Yes Sir," Dean winced as an alcohol swab was rubbed over the open soar.

"Alright, I can burn the bones tomorrow," John nodded, then paused before looking at his youngest, "Sammy, do you think you're ready to start hunting regularly with your brother and I?"

"Yeah," Sam pressed the cloth against his arm.

"What do you think Dean?" John questioned.

"Are you kidding Dad?" Dean grinned, and looked affectionately at his little brother, "Sam's going to turn out to be one of the best hunters around."

The End.