AN: This is my first time participating in the SPN Gencest Bang, so thanks to the mods for running this great event. Special thanks to my amazing artist Melitta4ever. Be sure and check out her fantastic art on Tumblr under Melitta4ever and take a look at the other amazing stories on Tumbler or Dreamwidth under SPNGencestBang.
Also I want to thank my beta shadowhuntingdauntlessdemigod for her great suggestions and hard work cleaning up my story. Any mistakes are 99% mine (I blame my cat for the other 1% since she sits on my keyboard when I try and type.) This story is complete so I will post a new chapter each day.
Once Bitten
Sam dodged to the right and felt the swish as sharp claws passed close by his side. Whatever this thing was, it was fast. He jumped back behind a tree. The creature slashed at him again, but luckily the razor-sharp talons embedded themselves into the tree and not into him. With a hiss, the monster yanked the tree in an attempt to free itself. Bits of bark and twigs showered down on Sam as he took advantage of the slight reprieve to circle back to his left.
Lunging closer, Sam heaved his machete towards the distracted beast. They had learned the hard way bullets were useless against its hulking mass. The monster had a head like a snake attached to its bear-like body by a long, sinuous neck. Its torso was covered with dark, matted fur, but the limbs were scaled and tipped with a tripod of talons that would make an eagle jealous. Sam's machete bounced off the skin of the creature's neck like it was rubber. Finally ripping its claws free, the monster grabbed for him and Sam leapt back to avoid being eviscerated.
"Hey fugly!" Dean called from across the small clearing, waving his hands in the air. With a flick of its forked tongue, the brute whirled and charged towards Dean. Taking the opportunity, Sam swung his blade as hard as he could at the joint where the scaled arm met fur. He got lucky and the arm fell with a splatter of dark blood to the leaf litter of the forest floor. The monster gave an inhuman howl and spun back towards him. Backpedaling towards the relative safety of another tree, Sam avoided another vicious swipe as Dean crept up behind the creature.
With a mighty swing of his own, Dean's machete took off the other arm. Blood gushing, the beast gave another horrible screech and swiveled its head between the two Winchesters. Apparently deciding the hunter behind it was now the bigger threat, the monster thrust its strange, flat head at Dean. Sam watched in horror as huge fangs descended and the creature snapped at his brother. Dean barely danced out of the way, but the already long neck extended impossibly farther, and the second bite hit its target, slamming Dean into a tree with the force of the blow. Dean dropped his blade, screaming in agony and Sam reacted.
Using his machete like a spear, he drove it into the furry body just below the neck. The sharp blade slid deep, and Sam sawed frantically. Blood was gushing over his hands, and he willed himself to work faster. Dean was still screaming, the terrible sound echoing off the nearby trees. His brother was never, ever supposed to make a noise like that. Finally cutting through half the neck, Sam sliced more easily through the other half. The monster's body fell in a heap, its head still dangling grotesquely from Dean's shoulder. Dean would have followed the body to the ground, but Sam caught him by the arm and lowered him carefully. In between bouts of panting and gasping, Dean was still howling in pain, his eyes screwed shut and his voice hoarse and ragged.
"Hold on," Sam begged as he knelt beside his brother and carefully disengaged the fangs from Dean's shoulder. He tossed the head aside. Dean curled around himself in obvious torment, shuddering and writhing so much Sam had to hold him down to inspect the injury. "Alright, I got you, lemme see," he murmured as he peeled back the torn edges of Dean's jacket and shirts as gently as he could.
The bite wasn't as bad as he expected, just two large but relatively shallow punctures. Dean had suffered wounds that were a hell of a lot worse than this one with little more than a grunt and a curse. He shouldn't be incapacitated by such a minor injury. A ripple of fear ran through Sam. There had to be some kind of venom or something in the bite causing Dean so much agony. He leaned back on his heels. It was hard for him to think with his brother crying and thrashing beneath his hands, but Sam spotted their bag of gear a few feet away where Dean had dropped it. Hurrying, he dragged it over and using his pen light, found the first aid kit. Shoving aside the bandages and dressings, Sam pulled out a syrette of morphine. Turning Dean on his side, Sam took a deep breath and stabbed it into the outside of his brother's thigh.
Dean was curled around Sam's knees, still shaking and panting. Having done all he could for Dean's pain, Sam took a minute to dress the bite on his shoulder. Feeling totally helpless, he waited for the drug to take effect, Sam put one hand on Dean's back and the other on his head. Maybe his touch could help ground his brother.
"I gotcha. You're okay. I'm here," he crooned nonsense softly, over and over. It seemed like an eternity as he waited, the twilight fading and the forest around them settling in for the night. Slowly Dean stilled beneath his palms with only the occasional tremor. Visibly fighting to bring his breathing under control, Dean clumsily patted Sam's arm.
"I'm okay," he gasped. Dean was obviously not okay, but Sam was relieved to hear him speak. Still, they stayed as they were for a few more moments as Dean gathered himself, wiping his sweaty, tear-stained face roughly on the sleeve of his jacket. Sam would sit there all night if Dean needed him to. Eventually his brother straightened with a groan, shoving against the ground with an unsteady arm. "Get me up," he croaked.
Moving to grip Dean's biceps, Sam hauled him to a sitting position. Dean's face was pale in the moonlight and Sam could see the creases of pain amongst the dirt smeared on his forehead. Keeping his brother steady with one hand, he used the other to brush the bits of leaves and twigs from Dean's jacket and jeans. Finally, they made eye contact.
"You good to move?" Sam asked. With a nod, Dean pulled his feet underneath himself and with Sam's help staggered to standing. The fact that he didn't pull out of Sam's grip made it clear Dean was far from 100%.
"Did you get it?" Dean asked through clenched teeth, glancing around the small clearing that had been their battle ground.
"Yeah," Sam confirmed. He looked around but couldn't see the monster's body parts. "What the hell?" he wondered under his breath. Sam leaned Dean carefully against the tree, and once he was sure his brother wasn't going to fall over, took a few steps to where he had tossed the head.
Instead of a severed snake head, there was nothing but a pile of goo slowly seeping into the ground. A quick survey told Sam the arms were gone in the same way. In fact, the only part of the monster that hadn't dissolved completely into soupy nothing was the bulky torso. All that was left of the beast's body was a pelt of ragged fur that looked like it had been exposed to the elements for decades. Sam cursed. This was bad. It meant the creature had been more than some kind of rare cryptid with a venomous bite. No, there was a mystical aspect to the thing; demonic maybe? Maybe some sort of magical reanimation? Either way, god only knows what Dean had been infected with. His gut churned with worry, but there was nothing more he could do for Dean here in the forest. All he could do now was get them back to their motel and hope he could find an answer.
Dean had his shoulders hunched forward, fists clenched, but he seemed more stable. His face was a mask of stoicism, even as lines of pain lingered around his eyes and mouth. Dean met his probing gaze with a tiny nod. "I'm alright Sam."
"Okay Dean, c'mon, let's get out of here." Sam reached out to help lever Dean away from his supportive tree, but Dean swatted his hand away half-heartedly.
"I can walk," he said. Sam raised his hands in surrender and let Dean stagger by on his own. Grabbing the weapons duffle, he took one last look around the little clearing and followed. Dean was still hunched over, moving old-man slow. Sam kept close, gnawing on his lower lip as he saw how frequently his brother stumbled. There was no point in asking how Dean was doing when it was obvious it was taking all his focus to keep moving forward. Sam glanced at the rising moon and did some quick calculations. They had been running from the monster in the general direction of the Impala, so luckily, they were a lot closer than they might have been.
In the end it took a couple of hours to hike back to the access road where they had parked the car. Somehow Dean had kept on his feet, but Sam was sure it was through sheer dogged determination more than anything else. His brother was soaked with sweat despite the slow pace, but he followed Sam around to the trunk and opened it so he could stow their gear. Despite his concern, Sam still let him slide behind the wheel. Of course, it wasn't like Dean gave him much of a choice. After everything they'd been through, he trusted Dean-he'd been driving while beat to hell for longer than Sam could remember. Trying to cajole the stubborn ass into riding shotgun wasn't worth the time. At least he didn't have a head injury.