Sam let out a quiet curse as a tree root caught his boot and almost made him fall. He sent a quick glance to Dean who was a few steps ahead of him, making sure that he wasn't heard. After Sam had gotten into an argument with a teacher a few schools back, calling the man a 'fucking idiot' when he tried to call CPS on Sam, Dean was very adamant about Sam's language. Dean assured Sam that he was right in his assessment, but that he couldn't just call a teacher out like that because it would create even more trouble with CPS.
But Dean didn't seem to have heard him, so Sam looked back down at the root and stomped on it with the heel of his boot. He wasn't happy when his dad announced they'd be going on this hunting trip, and every little buzz of a mosquito in his ear or stray branch that caught his clothes made his anger rise more. He wasn't supposed to be here, in the dark woods hunting a black dog that was going to try to eat him – if the mosquitos didn't kill him first. He was supposed to be in town, with a group of kids his age, eating ice cream and burgers. They had seemed so nice when they invited Sam to join them, so happy when he told them his brother said he could go. Dean had been so excited for Sam to hang out with a group of friends and even offered to take him out for a new outfit after school.
Then Dad came back to the motel with a new hunt… Dean did his best to get Sam out of it, but Dad was stubborn. And thus, all three Winchesters were out in the woods in the middle of the night. Dad was somewhere further in, on his own trail to cover more ground. Dean said there was no signal either, so no one would know if the black dog was killed until they eventually met back up.
A branch snagged Sam's hair, and this time he didn't try to be quiet as he yanked it free. "Damn it…! Stupid forest with its stupid trees!" Just because he could, Sam snapped the branch that dared to touch him and tossed the broken piece into a bush.
A light chuckle snapped his attention back to Dean, glaring at him as he made his way back to Sam. "You sure showed that tree, Sammy. It won't mess with you again."
"Shut up."
Dean's eyes softened in the pale yellow light from their flashlights, his smirk turning into a gentle smile as he placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. "I'm sorry you couldn't hang out with your friends tonight, kiddo. If it was up to me, you'd be out there with them right now instead of here."
"I wish you never would have said yes," Sam muttered, looking away from those soft eyes. Dean let out a sigh, but he didn't take his hand off Sam's shoulder.
"Sam-"
"You keep acting like you're Dad," He shouted, taking a step back from Dean. It wasn't fair, Sam knew it wasn't fair, but he was angry. He needed someone to take the burn of his anger and Dean just wouldn't leave him alone to sulk in peace. "You give permission for things you have no control over! And now everyone is going to think I stood them up and they're all going to hate me! So stop trying to act like Dad because you're not him! You just make things worse!"
The hurt that flashed across Dean's face was enough to make Sam apologize on the spot. But as he was opening his mouth to take it all back, Dean's shoulders slumped, and his hand dropped to his side.
"Alright… I'm sorry, Sam. I just want you to know that." Then Dean turned around and started walking back down the trail, leaving Sam to catch up at his own pace.
Sam watched his brother's retreating back, shoulders down and head low but still watchful of their surroundings. All the anger that Sam was feeling at the world was now directed at himself. It wasn't Dean's fault that things turned out the way they did. Dean even argued with their dad for Sam's sake, something he hardly ever did. Dean just wanted what was best for Sam, but sometimes he was overruled by their dad.
Sam decided that he wouldn't speak to his dad for the next two days, and he'd find a way to make it up to Dean. Maybe talk to the pretty girl who worked at the corner store across from their motel and tell her that Dean had a crush on her. Setting him up on a date would make him feel better. He hadn't been on a date for a while now… Not for four towns at least. Having that girl ask him out would definitely cheer him up.
Feeling a bit better about himself, Sam started walking a little faster to catch up to his brother. Being lost in his head caused him to fall further behind than what he wanted. Sure, he wanted space, but there was definitely a thing as too much space. And that was when Dean went around a bend in the path and Sam couldn't see him or his flashlight. Not to mention that there was something wrong with their surroundings that Sam couldn't quite put his finger on.
Something was off.
He was about to start jogging back to Dean when he heard a growl from a bush to his right. Sam whipped his flashlight around to look, but he couldn't see anything. It was silent too.
Completely silent.
Sam's heart stuttered in his chest as he realized there were no crickets singing. Something was in the area that was scaring the bugs. Black dogs weren't known for causing bugs to go silent though… that was reserved for terrestrial predators.
Sam swept his light across the trees again before he started hurrying back down the path.
He froze as his light faced in front of him. There, standing tall on the trail between him and Dean, was a black dog with glowing red eyes.
Sam could feel a coldness wash over him as he stared into the dog's eyes, a fear that sunk bone deep into him. He knew the lore of black dogs; knew they were an omen of death. If someone saw one and didn't kill it, then they or a loved one would die.
But Dean had the rifle. Dean had the only means to kill it between the two. Sam wasn't big enough yet to handle the kickback from it.
Oh God… Dean. Sam saw the black dog but he had no way to kill it, so Dean could die tonight. He could die and think that Sam was angry at him. No, that couldn't be their last conversation. Sam wouldn't let it!
Sam pulled out the silver knife from his back waistband and drew in a deep breath as he started to charge at the black dog, calling out for Dean as he ran. As far as he knew, no hunter had ever gone after a black dog with a knife before, no one ever wanted to get that close to one. But Sam would do whatever it took to save his brother!
He was only a few steps into his charge when he heard bushes rustling behind him at the same time that the black dog vanished. Sam didn't have time to be confused, barely had time to turn to look behind him, because something hard hit him against his shoulder and slammed him into the ground, his knife flying out of his hand. His first thought was that there was a person on his back, and every fighter instinct that Dean and his dad instilled into him came alive.
Sam kicked his feet out and thrashed around, trying to either kick the man off or turn over. The pressure lightened somewhat, and Sam scrambled to his hands and knees, hurrying to get away. For a moment, he thought he would manage to get to his feet. But then something clamped around the side of his chest and held him in place. He tried to push it away, his hand shoving against something hairy as it gripped him harder.
It took a moment for him to register the pain. What he thought of as pressure at first quickly turned into a blinding, burning pain that was quickly consuming his whole body. He couldn't stop the scream that tore out of his throat as he turned his head enough to make out the silhouette of a large, black creature biting down on his chest.
XxX
Dean wasn't sulking. He didn't sulk, that was Sam's job in the family. Dean was more like… He didn't know what word he was because fancy words were also Sam's job, but he knew that he wasn't sulking.
He really did feel bad for Sam too; he knew how much Sam wanted to be normal. He had been having trouble making friends at his last few schools, and when he ran into the motel yesterday afternoon, shouting about a group of kids inviting him to hang out, Dean immediately agreed. He was even going to take Sam to the local mall for a new outfit after school so Sam could have something nice to wear for once. But when they both saw Dad sitting outside the school, waiting to pick them up, they knew a change in plans was going to be made…
Dean fought so hard for Sam to sit the hunt out, to let him have just one normal kid night. But damn it if their dad wasn't stubborn as all hell. When he set his mind to something, it took an act of God to get him to change his mind.
There would be other friend groups in the future; Dean knew that wouldn't comfort Sam, but that's what comforted Dean. Sam was just in a low, shaken up over almost getting nabbed by CPS. Sam was scared to let someone else in in case they reported him as well. But once he got over that fear, Sam would have no trouble making new friends just like every other school they went to.
But until then, Dean would just have to deal with Sam's sulking and his own not-sulking.
Dean kept his ear focused on Sam's footsteps dragging behind him. It was no wonder why the kid kept tripping… Dean almost wanted to roll his eyes fondly at his little brother's antics. But he just kept walking instead. Sam wasn't too far behind, but once Dean went around the next bend, he would wait for him. They were still on a hunt after all, it wasn't good to be too far apart.
After Dean went around the bend and a few more paces in, he leaned up against a tree and waited to see Sam's flashlight. His mind briefly wondered what he could do to make it up to him. Maybe going to get new clothes would still be a good idea…? Sam hadn't had something new in a long time… Not since his middle school dance last year. Yeah, new clothes, and maybe a trip to an arcade where Dean could set him up with a cute girl.
Or he could always just turn him loose in a bookstore and promise to buy as many books as Sam could hold. The nerd would probably love that just as much-
"Dean…!" Sam yelled, panic in his voice. Dean nearly dropped his flashlight as he took off back down the trail to Sam. He cursed himself for letting his brother fall so far behind while they were on a hunt. Of course it would be Sam who found the black dog first, the kid had a natural talent for attracting all kinds of dangers!
Dean turned back around the bend just in time to hear Sam scream.
He had never heard Sam scream like that before… It was so shocking to hear so much pain and fear in Sam's voice that Dean almost faltered. Did the black dog attack him? Oh God, Sammy didn't have a gun to protect himself with. He left Sam alone with no good weapon-
Dean shined his light down the trail while pulling the rifle off of his back, and his body froze at what he saw.
Sam was struggling on the ground, kicking, elbowing, and fighting against a large black mass that was on top of him. His first thought was the black dog, that it had got Sam. But there was something off about its body… It seemed longer than any other black dog Dean had seen, and the head was wrong.
Dean didn't try to figure it out then, he sent off a warning shot into the trees that echoed through the whole forest. The thing that was on top of Sam let go, large yellow eyes looking up at him and bloody fangs growling. It wasn't a black dog. Dean stared at the creature he had only seen once while at a zoo.
A panther was on top of Sam.
A panther had Sam's blood on its teeth.
A panther was killing Sam.
Dean pumped his rifle and took a step forward, aiming as the panther crept further over Sam's body and growled at him. It was just what Dean needed – the panther's head clear of Sam's body – and he fired.
The panther fell on top of Sam, the full weight making Sam cry out – or maybe it was just Sam's wounds. Dean didn't think long on it as he ran to Sam's side and rolled the cat off of him.
"Oh God…" Dean stared down with horror at his baby brother and the blood that covered him. Tears poured freely from Sammy's eyes, his body curling in on himself. "It's okay, Sammy, it'll be okay. I'm here, I'm right here, buddy. I'll get you all fixed up, okay?"
Dean swallowed thickly, trying to remember the field medical training that Dad had taught him. Step one: Rapid Trauma Assessment. Sam was awake but was crying too much to really respond to Dean… Assessing his mental state could wait until later, he quickly decided. He next moved to look over Sam's breathing. Dean leaned closer to him, trying to calm his own panicked breathing to listen to Sam's. Which he was. Breathing. Sam was breathing and everything sounded good-
No.
No.
There was something else there… A sucking sound from Sam's chest with each labored inhale.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Sammy." Dean was nearly crying himself as he put his flashlight on the ground next to them then placed his hands on Sam's shoulder. "I have to turn you over; I need to see the injuries."
Sam screamed again as he was turned over, a stray tear slipping down Dean's cheek as well. Blood was gushing out of Sam's chest with his shirt already soaked through and a sizable pool under him. Dean cursed as he gripped the bottom of Sam's t-shirt and ripped it in two. He needed to see the wound, needed to confirm it was what he thought and not just his imagination.
The little hope that Dean held onto vanished as he saw the teeth marks across Sam's chest and shoulder – mainly the large puncture on Sam's right side that was gushing blood while the hiss of air escaped through it. Dean felt sick looking at it, almost like he was going to throw up. No, he was going to throw up. But he fought it down as he pulled his backpack off his shoulder and emptied it out. He shuffled the contents around before he found the med kit. He picked the flashlight back up and went to open the kit before his hands froze for a moment.
His hands were covered in Sam's blood…
He quickly shook off the shock and opened the kit. He grabbed the first gauze packet he found and the medical tape; the gauze was discarded as he placed the packaging against the wound and taped three sides down. Just having the slight pressure of the tape against his skin had Sam screaming again, and Dean restarted his litany of apologies.
He wasn't supposed to be here, bleeding out on the forest floor. Sam wasn't supposed to be here. More tears fell down Dean's cheeks as he started putting gauze on Sam's other bite marks. Sam was supposed to be having fun and eating junk food with other kids his age, not dyi-
Dean choked back a sob as he placed a hand on the side of Sam's face, his words to calm Sam just as much as himself, to drown out the horrid noise coming from Sam's chest. "I've got you, Sammy, you'll be just fine because I'm here. Okay? I've got you, little brother."
Sam's breathing was short and rapid, tears wetting his eyelashes, but he leaned into Dean's touch and nodded. "De… De, I'm- I'm sorry."
"Shh, it's alright. You got nothing to apologize for, Sammy."
"I should, shouldn't have y-yelled at… you." Sam's left hand came up and weakly held onto Dean's. "It wasn't, wasn't fair. 'm sorry, De'n…"
Dean felt his own heart tightening in his chest, struggling to breathe just as much as Sam. "C'mon, don't do this do me, Sammy. No goodbyes, no making things right. We can save that for some other time, okay? Uh, how about next Friday? We'll make things right next Friday. I'll take you out somewhere next Friday, how about that? They just opened an arcade in the mall, I'll take you there."
Sam smiled, blood in his teeth as he wheezed. "Y-Yeah… Let's do that…"
"We just, we just have to get out of here first." Dean glanced around before reaching into his back pocket to pull out his phone. A curse left him instead when he saw that there was no signal. "Okay, no calls… We'll have to do this the old-fashioned way." He quickly pulled off his jacket and laid it on the ground next to Sam. He was so small… barely longer than the jacket… Was it normal for Sam to be so small for his age? When Dean was fourteen, he was already hitting his first growth spurt.
"This is going to hurt, Sammy," Dean said, coming back to himself as he moved to Sam's head. "But I'll get you to the hospital soon. And it'll be fun. Hey, remember when we were younger, and Dad left his jacket at the motel when he went out to interview a witness once? You remember how I dragged you around the floor with it? It'll be just like that, okay? Just like when we were kids."
Dean looked down at him, hoping to offer a comforting smile to his brother. But he was met with wide, scared eyes staring behind him. Dean pulled the rifle off his shoulder as he spun around, prepared to face down another panther. Instead, he was met with the darkness of the forest and two glowing red eyes.
The very rude reminder of their hunt was not welcomed, and the even ruder reminder that Dean hadn't reloaded the rifle yet made him want to scream at the unfairness of it all.
"You can't have him!" He shouted, waving the rifle around in an attempt to scare off the black dog. "I won't let you have him! You can't have my brother!"
The eyes came closer, seeming to completely ignore Dean and focus on Sam. Dean reached over Sam and swung his rifle at it, but the eyes disappeared only to reappear to the left of them, on Sam's unprotected side, with a deep growl that felt like it came from the Gates of Hell.
Dean, with no weapon and no time, threw himself over Sam's body. He could hear Sam's weak protests and weaker hands pushing against his chest, but he didn't move. Sam honestly should have known better by now, that Dean was nothing if he didn't have Sam. The one reason that Dean fought monsters wasn't for his mother, not anymore. He fought so that one day Sam could live his normal life. And Dean would be damned if he let a monster take away his brother after a cat already tried.
The black dog's growl got closer, louder, shaking Dean's very core. He closed his eyes tightly, ushering apologies and promises to Sam as he held his hand tightly. Dean knew that without him there to get Sam to a hospital, Sam likely wouldn't make it… But he couldn't just sit back and watch the black dog tear into Sam without trying to offer a different option first.
A tear dripped onto Sam's chest just as a gunshot echoed through the trees. Both Sam and Dean jumped at the sudden sound, closely followed by a cry of pain from Sam and the black dog.
Dean looked up, burning relief coursing through him at the sight of his dad rushing through the trees.
"Dean…! Sam!"
"Dad! Dad, hurry, Sam's hurt bad!" If Dean's voice cracked, no one called him out on it. "He needs a hospital!"
John stopped short at the sight of Sam once Dean got off of him, rifle in one hand and flashlight in the other, pale horror painting his face before he shoved it down and went back into his military mode.
"Use the jacket as a gurney: you take the head, I'll take the feet."
Dean nodded, quickly lifting Sam's shoulders just as his dad lifted Sam's feet. A scream left Sam as his injuries were jolted, his body beginning to thrash around. As gently as he could, Dean set him down on the old leather jacket and started brushing Sam's bangs out of his face.
"Shh, shh, I know, Sammy, I know it hurts." He whispered, his throat clogging up as more tears threatened to fall. "But Dad's here now and we're gonna get you to the hospital. You'll be just fine, Sammy. Just fine. Okay? It's gonna hurt like a bitch but I'm right here and you'll be fine."
He grabbed the edge of the jacket, looking up to his dad who nodded in return. As one, they stood as carefully as they could and began the thirty-minute trek back to the Impala.
The entire time, Dean kept talking, though he wasn't really sure if it was towards Sam or himself. Every straight part of the trail he would look over his shoulder to Sam in the yellow light from the flashlight wedged under his dad's arm. He couldn't see too well, but he saw Sam's chest rising and falling rapidly. And every break in Dean's words let him hear the awful hissing sound of Sam's wound.
They were ten minutes from the car when John told Dean to start jogging, comfort be damned, because Sam was showing signs of a collapsed lung.
Dean could say that he had never been more scared in his life. Dad's words with Sam's wheezing breaths were a combination from Hell that would haunt Dean's dreams for the rest of his life.
When they made it to the Impala, Dean climbed into the backseat to lay Sam down as gently as possible. He started to settle on the floor next to him when his dad shook his head.
"I need you to drive, Dean."
"What? No, Dad, I need to be back here with him-"
"I'm going to put a pen in Sam's chest to help him breathe, Dean, I need you to drive."
It physically hurt Dean to get out of the back and away from Sam. He leaned over his little brother and kissed his forehead, patting his cheek gently. Sam's tear-soaked eyes opened slightly to look up at him.
"I'm going to be right over the seat, okay, Sam? Dad's gonna sit back here with you, he's gonna make it easier for you to breathe. You'll be alright. I'm going to get you to the hospital, and you'll be all fixed up in no time."
Sam's eyes shifted around slightly before looking back at Dean with a small smile. "'m glad… it wasn't y-you." He swallowed thickly, but it sounded more like he was gasping. "You make… things better."
Confusion crossed Dean's face for a moment, his mind trying to understand what Sam was saying after everything that its been through that night, when the argument from before came to mind. Tears once again built up in his eyes as he chuckled wetly, brushing his hand through Sam's hair.
"Aw, Sammy, you're such a little sap."
"'m not the one c-crying."
"Shut up, bitch."
"Jerk."
With one last look, Dean climbed over the seat and started the car, barely waiting for his dad to close the back door before he sped off to the nearest hospital. Speed limits didn't normally hold Dean back, but tonight they were nonexistent. He had the Impala going zero to sixty in ten seconds and watched the speedometer keep going up from there.
He heard as his dad peeled off the chest seal, Sam whimpering and squirming until he gasped, and John cursed. The hissing sound of the wound filled the cab of the car, Dean's hands shaking on the steering wheel.
"Talk to him, Dad. Please, I need you to talk to him."
John's quiet voice was wavering as he started speaking, promising Sam all the things that Dean had and more. It was just loud enough to block out the sounds coming from Sam.
Dean tried to concentrate on his dad's voice. The gruff tone had comforted him many times before, but that waver didn't leave his voice. It was a testament to just how scared John Winchester was. And when John Winchester was scared, then everyone else should be too.
So instead, Dean slipped into his own mind. He was never one for praying, he didn't believe in God or things like that. He had teased Sam relentlessly for taking an interest in a church a few years back, said he was only going for the cute pastor's daughter no matter how much Sam denied it. And Sam never touched the bible found in the motel drawers when Dean was around, but he knew that he would read it instead of his schoolwork some nights.
But that night, going eighty miles an hour down a road that had a posted limit of sixty, Dean prayed.
He begged God to save his little brother. He asked forgiveness for his sins like he heard Pastor Jim teach Sam, and then he begged some more for Sam to be saved. He promised to be a better brother, that he'd be more encouraging to Sam's faith, hell he'd even take Sam to church if that's what he wanted! He'd do anything if it meant his Sammy lived!
For the ten-minute drive to the hospital, Dean's silent mantra as tears streamed down his face was 'save him, please save him'.
When at last the hospital building was seen, he finally slowed just enough so that his braking didn't send Sammy flying. He parked haphazardly in the ambulance entrance, leaving the car running as he jumped out and ran inside.
"Help! Please, someone! My brother needs help! He was attacked!"
A swarm of people in scrubs and coats came out, following Dean's ushering to the car. He watched helplessly as they put him on a gurney, assessing the wounds themselves and calling medical jargon to each other as they brought him inside.
Dean wanted to follow them, he wanted to go inside and know that his brother made it into surgery. But Dean was frozen. In the flashlight's glow through the woods, Sam didn't look too bad. It was bad, but it didn't look it. The awful lighting played with the colors in a way that kept some hope Dean didn't know existed. He didn't know it existed until it was taken away under the bright fluorescents of the hospital. Sam was so incredibly pale, nearly as white as the coats of the doctors. He couldn't live with that much blood loss, could he? How much blood loss did it take before someone died? Before Sammy died? He knew the answer, it had been drilled into his head so many times, but he couldn't remember it now. Numbers that meant nothing to him swirled in his head. It made him dizzy.
He offhandedly thought that Sam would know how much blood loss would be fatal just before his stomach lurched.
Dean ran to one of the bushes and threw up everything that he had been holding down since he first saw Sam injured. Some part of his mind registered that he was sobbing as he retched, that his hands were shaking as he held himself upright, but he didn't care. He didn't care how many nurses saw him break. All he cared about was that his little brother, that his Sammy, lived.
A warm hand was on his back, rubbing soothing circles against his shoulder blades. A rough voice started whispering near his ear, making promises to Dean that he had just made to Sammy.
"It'll be okay, Dean. Sammy is strong, he'll pull through. Sammy will be okay."
Without thinking, Dean turned into his dad, his arms wrapping around John's solid chest and burying his face in his shoulder as he cried. Just once… Just once, Dean needed his dad's comfort and wasn't ashamed to cry for it. He deemed the situation deserving of him crying into his dad. His little brother was fighting for his life, and Dean couldn't help him. There was nothing that Dean or his dad could do now, nothing that could save Sammy.
The thought of Sammy's life being in someone else's hands was a paralyzing fear that Dean didn't even know he had. But his dad seemed to trust the doctors of this place, whispering that they knew what they were doing and just how fine Sam would be when they were allowed to see him. Dean didn't trust the doctors, but he did trust his dad. He had no other choice but to trust his dad. His mind was so filled with every possible outcome that Dean didn't even trust himself at the moment.
What would he do if they couldn't fix his brother? What would Dean do if he lost his little brother? Who was he without Sam? Since he was four, it had always been 'Sam and Dean,' what was he going to do if he turned into 'just Dean'?
He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he turned into Just Dean…
XxX
The first thing that Sam felt as he came to was cold. The second thing he felt was a dull ache across his body. The third was that his body wasn't responding the way that he wanted to.
Sam tried to open his eyes, but they were heavy and stayed shut. He tried to lift his hand, but he was pretty sure he only managed to twitch his finger.
He was scared. Why couldn't he move? Where was he? Where was Dean? The last thing he remembered was arguing with him in the woods, he was angry that he had to go on a hunt. Was he attacked? Was he captured by the monster they were after? Why couldn't he remember what happened?
There was a dull beeping to his right that was increasing in pace, a faint voice filtering in through his haze. It made him panic more, made him worried about who he was so helpless around. Being helpless around strangers meant he was in danger.
But then, through the fog that clouded his mind and the insistent beeping and the fear, a familiar voice sounded next to his ear.
"Sammy, you're okay. Just breathe, buddy, I'm right here." Something warm was on his face, brushing his hair to the side.
Dean.
Dean was there, so everything must have been okay. Whatever happened, he would be fine as long as Dean was there.
Sam relaxed against his brother's hand, his body feeling more alert now as well. He drew in a deep breath before trying to open his eyes once more, managing to get them open a crack before hissing in pain from the light and closing them again.
"Is it too bright? Sorry, I'll fix that." The warmth on his head left, leaving Sam cold once again; but before he could even miss it, Dean was back. "There, try again, Sammy. Let me see those eyes."
Slowly, Sam tried again. It seemed easier this time, though his eyes felt dry and crusty, he got them open.
Dean was leaning over him, a relieved smile spread across his face. Despite his smile, Dean looked tired. He had dark circles under his eyes and faint scruff on his chin, but it was the tears that were starting to build in his eyes that caught Sam off guard the most.
"Dean…?"
"Sorry, I'm sorry, Sammy. I don't mean to freak you out. I'm just so happy that you're awake." Dean's hand found its way back to Sam's hair, ruffling it gently. "These last few days have been way too quiet without your annoying ass always bugging me."
Sam started to smile back, but then paused, eyebrows pushing together in confusion. "Days…?"
"Ah, yeah, you've been out for two days now. The doc finally decided to ease back on your pain meds enough for you to wake up. How are you feeling, by the way? Are you in pain?"
Sam's mind struggled to keep up with the speed that Dean was talking, struggled to comprehend what he was saying. Sam had been asleep for two days? The dull ache in his chest pulsed as if confirming Dean's words.
"I don't… Dean…" Sam met his brother's eyes, pleading for answers. "What happened? We were on a hunt… I- I was arguing with you; it wasn't fair but I was angry and I couldn't help it. And then… then there was…" His eyes widened as he let his eyes wander, pieces of memory coming back to him. "The black dog… Dean, I saw the black dog, it was just standing in the middle of the trail, watching me. I was so scared that it was going to go after you, that you would die before I got to apologize. I- I tried… I tried going after it with my knife, but… there was something else there. Something came after me from behind…"
"A black panther." Sam's eyes snapped back to his brother; eyebrows raised in shock. Dean gave a humorless chuckle as he nodded. "Yeah, not what we expected on a hunt. I talked to some of the staff here; apparently, they've had a panther problem for a few years now. All those deaths that Dad thought were from a black dog was actually just a man-eating panther. The fact that a black dog showed up tonight was… It was probably just there for you, Sam. It tried coming after you when I was patching you up, but Dad heard you scream from the panther and booked it over to us. He showed up just in time to kill the black dog before it attacked."
Flashes of the night went through Sam's head, bits and pieces of memory and words coming back to him. He remembered the blinding pain in his chest, the increasing struggle it was to breathe, Dean's voice wavering as he promised that Sam would be okay, the painful trip to the car where he definitely passed out at least twice…
He also remembered trying to apologize to Dean, thinking that it was his last chance. Dean looked so scared while telling him to stop, unable to face the potential that his brother was dying.
Looking at him now, Sam could tell that he was still scared. Being out for two days definitely wouldn't have helped. He remembered when Dean had to go to the hospital for the first time after a botched hunt: a werewolf had nearly gutted him and left him in a hospital bed for a week. Sam had stayed by his bedside the entire time, even after the nurses had tried to chase him off. That was the week Sam had truly learned the power his eyes held. Not a single nurse could tell him no and let him stay after visiting hours.
Sam remembered how scared he had been for that week, especially the first few days when Dean was unconscious. This was Sam's first time in a hospital, and he was sure that Dean felt the same way he did back then – maybe even more so considering that Dean had seen the attack happen and helped to treat his wounds. Dean had Sam's blood on his hands… That had to be traumatizing for Dean. The tension in his shoulders was further proof of the hell he must have gone through.
So, Sam being the nerd that he is, did what he knew best to help his brother relax.
"Did you know that black panthers don't really exist?"
Dean blinked, staring at Sam as if he was out of his mind. "So, what…? It was Big Foot that bit a hole in your lung?"
"No, it was a big cat, but a black panther could refer to any big cat with melanism. Panthera is a group of mammals classified by their head shape – all of which being big cats. Most commonly when someone refers to a black panther though, especially in the United States, it's a leopard or jaguar. Think of an albino tiger, but… opposite."
Dean continued to stare at him for another minute, trying to comprehend what Sam was saying, before a single chuckle left him. It was followed by another chuckle, louder, until it grew into a laugh. His shoulders dropped down away from his ears and his back slouched over.
"God…" Dean bowed his head, his laughter taking on a wet tone. "Thank you…"
It was Sam's turn to be confused, his head tilting slightly. "Thank you? For what?"
His older brother looked up at him, eyelashes wet, but a smile on his face. "Don't worry about it, kiddo. I was talking to someone else." He settled back in his uncomfortable plastic chair, one hand still on Sam's shoulder. "Okay, geek boy, what else do you know about these nonexistent cats? Pop quiz time, tell me everything."
Sam wasn't sure what was going through his mind, but he wasn't going to start questioning it now. He had a brother to cheer up.
"So get this…"
A/N: I'm sorry if the ending seems a little rushed… I really wasn't in the mood for a happy ending tonight, but I also hate MCD so I thought I would give the boys what I couldn't have tonight.
Trigger warning for animal death!
I lost a family pet tonight. He, Ziggy, was attacked by what I believe is a panther. He wasn't outside for 5 seconds before I heard him yelping… He was more of my mom's dog than mine, but I still loved him. He wasn't a morning lover like my mom, so when she'd wake up at the crack of dawn, he'd sneak into my bed and sleep for a few extra hours. He was such a happy dog, always tap dancing and spinning and playing with his nephews… And it's so hard to believe that he's gone now.
One of my family members made the comment that he was protecting the two other dogs that were out with him. It helps but it doesn't… I don't know how to describe it. He always was too brave for his own good.
The attack happened so fast too… So fast but so much damage. I never saw what attacked him, it ran away when I started screaming I guess. But I saw the bites. I've watched enough nature documentaries to know that it was the bite of a big cat, and there's been panther problems in my area in the past.
I pray that none of you ever have to hear what a punctured lung sounds like… It is single-handedly the worst thing I've ever heard and now, two hours later, I can still hear it as clearly as if Ziggy was right next to me.
We tried to save him, we really did… But the nearest emergency vet is an hour away, and both vehicles have transmission problems. My car died twice along the way, but I got it restarted and I kept driving while my mom held Ziggy. I vividly remember having to tell her to keep talking to him, just please keep talking to him, because I couldn't handle hearing his punctured lung.
The attack happened at 10:24pm. Ziggy died at 11:47pm. Just 5 minutes away from the vet.
We got back home an hour ago, my mom told me to try to sleep so we can dig the grave in the morning. But I can't sleep. If I sleep then I know I'm going to relive it. So I'm doing what I do best. Coping through fiction. Fanfiction is what's gotten me through hard times before, and I have faith that it will get me through it now. Well, fanfiction and my pup that's been curled up on my lap since I got home. I can't tell if it's for my comfort or his though.
Also, if you see any mistakes, please try to ignore them. I've fixed as much as I can spot tonight, but I'll take another look when I have a clearer head. There might even been a bonus chapter for some of the fluff I thought of but couldn't bring myself to include in this chapter.
Rest in peace, Ziggy. You were so loved.