Desperate Times: 'Supernatural'

By Nana56 © 2008

It’d been days since the brothers’ last gig, and they were enjoying the respite.  They were in the middle of the same discussion they had had on any number of occasions, the one where Sam never gave up and Dean always came back with the same rebuttals.  It had become a comfortable routine to pass the time that left both brothers completely relaxed.

On this day, they had no particular destination in mind and were merely driving in a direction that had been picked randomly the day before.  No hunts had been showing up, making the ride a leisurely one.

The black Impala rumbled as she headed up a curvy mountain road.  The view was breathtaking.  The sun was warm, but it was crisp fall days so the brothers’ windows were down to enjoy the fresh mountain air.  Occasionally, there would be a patch of snow or ice on the road in shady areas as they gained altitude, but nothing significant that Dean couldn't expertly avoid. 

“Dude, you just don’t get it.”  Dean gave his lopsided grin as he looked over at his brother.  “Classic rock is the only music my baby wants to play, and AC/DC is one of the greatest bands to ever live!  You need to work on your standards.”

“I’m not saying they’re not, not at all!”  Sam really was trying to be reasonable, but his older brother could just be so…  “I’m just saying that you might like to try another genre, just to see.”  He put his hands up in defense at his brother’s look.  “I’m sure your baby,” Sam patted her dashboard, “wouldn’t mind trying something different just once.”

“I’m not going to put her through that, Sam.  She’s got discerning taste and she won’t like it.  Besides, we don’t have any other type of music.  Even if she wanted to, I’m not going to spend hard-earned cash just to try it.”

Sam had heard that argument before, too, so he was ready this time.  “I happen to have a different tape with me today, Dean.  The library we were in last night had a music exchange area and I found this.”  His smile was triumphant as he held up a tape of Barry Manilow’s Greatest Hits.

Dean looked at his brother in horror at the very thought of that thing even being in his car, for a joke or otherwise.  He was so distracted that he didn’t see the large patch of ice in the shade of the big pine trees on the next turn until the tires started slipping.  He began fighting for control, but it was too late, and the muscle car headed for the drop off.

Sam dropped the tape he was holding then braced his right hand on the dashboard and his left hand on the back of the seat behind Dean.  Not that it took much with his height, he still pushed his feet on the floor as hard as he could.

For his part, Dean had a death-grip on the steering wheel as he continued to fight for control to no avail.  “Hang on, Sammy.  I can’t get her back!”

As the car slipped over the drop off sideways, the momentum took her out into space.  She began to turn over and spin at a greater speed as she began her descent.  As Sam lost his grip on the dashboard and seat back, he heard Dean scream his name.  He could feel his brother trying to catch on to any part of his body or clothing, making a desperate grab for him as his own hands tried to find purchase on any part of the car to remain inside.  The spinning motion of the car made it impossible to get hold of anything causing Sam’s body to bump and bounce out the open passenger window.  His last sight was the horrified look on his brother’s face as he headed for the trees.

Dean’s loss of grip on the steering wheel as he frantically tried to grab his brother, his inability to regain his hold on the wheel as his body bounced around the inside of the car, and the continued spin of the car ejected him out the open driver’s window into the trees below.

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Sam hurt everywhere.  He didn’t want to open his eyes.  He wanted to go back to the darkness, away from the pain.  This wasn’t right…His left arm was a mass of agony, and his right ankle felt almost as bad.  ‘Where am I?  Am I upside down?  What the hell happened?’

“Dean?”

No answer.

“Dean!”

No answer.

Sam opened his eyes to nothing but huge Ponderosa pines all around — no sky and no ground at all.  Was he stuck in a tree?  Confused, he called for his brother once more.

“DEAN!”

Receiving no answer except the echo of his own scream, he looked around and began trying to get himself righted.  The pain in his left arm became white hot as he reached to grab a branch.  ‘Okay, not a good idea.  Personal inventory first.’  Panting and trying not to pass out this time, Sam breathed through the pain and tried to think clearly.  ‘Left arm broken.  Check.  Gotta be careful with that.’

Carefully, Sam let go of the branch he realized he was holding with his right hand, not fully releasing his grip until he was certain that he wouldn’t fall without it.  He reached over his body to check where his left arm was broken and found it was the radius.  At least, the broken bone could be supported by the ulna.  It also didn’t appear to be a dislocated break.  Those were two very good things, if anything about a broken bone could be called ‘good’. He needed to stabilize it somehow, though.  Taking his left wrist with his right hand, he gritted his teeth and pulled the injured limb across his body and tucked his hand into his shirt.

‘Okay, what’s next?’ he blew out a breath.  Resting in the branch, he began gently moving each part of his body.  Nothing seemed too bad — just going to be sore and bruised tomorrow — until he came to his right ankle.  He sucked in a breath.  He couldn’t reach it to tell if it was broken, but it hurt like hell.

Nothing else seemed to be broken, but he could tell by the blood running down his face that he had a gash on his forehead.  Carefully feeling around the wound, Sam decided that it wasn’t as serious as the amount of blood seemed to indicate, although there was a huge lump to go along with it.  ‘I hope. Maybe a stitch or two, or a couple of butterflies should take care of it.  Head wounds bleed a lot.  The first aid kit’s in the car with everything I need.  Dean’ll take care of it…if I can find him.’

One branch at a time, Sam began the arduous process of getting himself down without further injury and without the use of two of his limbs.  As he got himself into a rhythm, he began to worry about Dean again.  It had been some time, and his brother hadn’t answered him.  Sam was more than a little afraid of the fact that he hadn’t heard his brother calling for him either.  Sam was sure his brother was either unconscious, too far away to be heard, or the third choice which was not even an option.  They just needed to get back together was all.  Everything would be alright then.

Sam suddenly realized he was at the bottom of the branches when he could see the ground and the branches became further apart.  He sat on the bottom-most branch and studied the ground below.  In good health, he would have just made the jump and let his knees fold and his body roll to reduce the shock.  Not so easily done this time.

Deciding there really was no other option, Sam began to ease his way off of the branch, letting his good arm and good leg hold him to the bottom of it.  He made sure that his hand had a good grip on the branch and slowly let his left leg let go of the branch until his right hand was all that held him up.  He was suddenly very thankful for all the strength training that he and Dean had done that had left the calluses on his hands.  It still appeared there was a good eight feet from his feet to the ground, but Sam took a deep breath, held his injured ankle up in a feeble attempt to protect it, and let go.

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The first thing that Dean became aware of when he came to was the cold.  The second thing that touched his awareness was that he couldn’t move and that it was sort of hard to breathe.

Opening his eyes, he realized that he was looking at the top of the Impala.  ‘What the hell?’  Blinking and trying to look around to make sure what he was seeing, he registered only tall trees and the top of his car.

“Sam?”

Birds chirping.

“Sam!”

‘Damn birds... Where the hell is Sam?’

“SAMMY!”

He felt the icy coldness of fear stab his insides; his little brother was missing or…or nothing.  He had to find his little brother.  He might be hurt. 

Slowly, Dean took a physical inventory of himself.  He could feel his legs; they didn’t seem too bad, but he couldn’t move them.  There must be a dip in the forest floor under his legs, as the drivers door of the Impala wasn’t crushing them, they just seemed stuck.  Hips: okay, sore, but most likely bruised.  Stomach: not bad, but God, his chest hurt.  Bruised, cracked or broken ribs, probably.  Right arm: good, might even be able to get it free if he tried.  Left arm: stuck, big time.

He seemed to be lying on a soft surface; soft was good, if he’d landed on a hard surface, he would have died on impact.  As he raised and turned his head, he realized he was on the mossy cushion of a forest floor of pine needles and other leaves.  He also realized he shouldn’t do that again when there was a sharp, shooting pain in his neck and left shoulder.  Dean let his head fall back, breathing through the pain and blinking at the scene above him.  More trees.  Suddenly, he felt he was not terribly fond of trees.  On the other hand, as he looked around and saw some pretty serious damage to some of them, he was grateful for the slowing resistance they had offered the car and her occupants.  The tree line was scarred with the effects of the fight with the steering wheel and the slide off the road, bringing the memory barreling back to him like a thundering herd.  The trees had probably saved his life, but…

Panic set in full force this time.

“SAMMY!  Answer me, goddammit!”  Dean almost sobbed with the effort to yell.  His chest was hurting like a sonofabitch, and the breathing was still too hard.  He had to keep the yelling at a minimum if he was going to get out of here and find his brother.

Not hearing an answer, he began frantically trying to work his right arm free.  He wasn’t sure what would come next, but one thing at a time.  He found that he could move that arm a little side to side, and as he did so, he could feel the pine needles move slightly under it to give a little more space.  The weight became a little less and Dean’s concentration became more intense.  Back and forth and back and forth.  Soon, he was able to begin to pull it up so that his elbow could bend a little.  Encouraged, he worked faster…back and forth and pull…back and forth and pull.  Suddenly, his arm was free, eliciting a whoop of joy.

Such was his excitement that he almost didn’t hear the faint sound of a voice calling his name.  He shut up instantly and listened.

“Dean?”

It sounded so far away, but it was Sam.

“SAM!”  Pain shot through his chest and neck.

“DEAN!”

Sam was closer now and would find him.  Rather than yelling, Dean decided to use the Impala as a signal.  Using his free hand, he made a fist and banged on the top of the car.

“I’m sorry, baby, but it’s the only way Sammy can find us.”

Bang, bang, bang.  Bang, bang, bang.

“I’m coming!”

That much-closer yell was accompanied by a lot of noise that sounded like scraping and falling and some cursing.  Dean tried to twist his head around to see where the noise was coming from but saw only more trees, which became blurred by the stars that appeared from the pain he felt from the movement.

Suddenly, a blurry upside down image of his brother came from the trees and staggered toward him.  Dean frowned, blinking at the sight as he tried to make out what was wrong.  Sam’s face was covered in blood with a poorly tied bit of cloth around his head, and his left — left? yes, left — arm was tucked into the front of his shirt.  His right hand was holding a large branch that he was using as a walking stick and his right ankle was wrapped with part of his shirt.  He looked awful, but he was beautiful.  Dean was so relieved his brother was there and alive that he was sure whatever was wrong could be fixed.

“Sammy, you okay?”

“Not really, but I’ll live.  You’re in a lot worse condition than I am, it looks like.”  Sam used the branch to lower himself next to his brother with a grunt.

“What’s wrong?  Why is your hand in your shirt?  What’s wrong with your ankle?”  Dean was worried and grabbing at his brother with his free arm.  The pain caused by his rapid movement was taking his breath away, but he had to find out what was wrong with Sam. "Your head’s bleeding."

Batting his brother's hand away, Sam tried to speak rationally to him. “Dean, stop it!  I'll live.  Oh, I’ve got a headache, though.  Okay?”

“Where’ve you been?  I was worried about you.”

“Woke up in a tree.  Took some time to get down.  Guess the tree broke my fall when I was thrown out of the car.  What’s up here?  You got anything broken?”

“You woke up in a tree?  Like Tarzan?”

At Sam’s glare, Dean thought it wise to answer the question.  There would be time for joking around later.  He’d been so relieved to see his brother he couldn’t help himself. 

“I don’t know for sure.  God knows I love my baby, but I think she needs to come off of me really soon.”

Nodding, Sam used his one good ankle to force himself up against the roof of the Impala.

“Getting you out from under the car is the first order of business.  If I can get her high enough, you think you can wiggle out?”

“I’ll try, Sammy, but she’s awfully heavy.”  Dean patted the roof.  ‘Sorry…no offense.’

Sam leaned into the roof of the Impala with all of his weight and what strength he had left to no avail.  The big black car was just too heavy, or stuck, or something.  Sam tried and tried then finally banged his fist into the roof in frustration.

“Hey!  It’s not her fault.  She didn’t land on me on purpose, you know.”  Dean sent his brother an angry glare at the abuse laid on his baby.

“I’m sorry.  I know…Hey, have you seen the jack?  It looks like there might be enough of a gap that we could squeeze that in there to get some height.”

Sam hobbled to the rear of the Impala and found that the trunk lid had been sprung.  Various debris from the trunk lay scattered about; his eyes quickly scanned the area to see if the jack was there.  It wasn’t — at least, not close by.  He tried to open the lid further to get in, but it was pretty stuck to the ground. He was only able to move it a couple of inches.  It would have to do.

Carefully leaning so as not to jar his broken arm, he rummaged through the items left in the trunk.  Weapons, salt, holy water…no jack.  Pulling himself back out of the car, he scanned the items on the ground more carefully and was disappointed to realize the debris was all the way to the trees.  Who knew how much of it was scattered too far away to even consider looking...  The way the car had been spinning when he last saw her, it was probably close to a mile.

“The jack’s gone.”

Dean had been patiently waiting for his brother to bring the jack and get this fucking car off of him.  He pounded his right fist into the ground.  ‘Sorry, baby!’  He remembered himself and smoothed his hand over the roof.

“I need a fulcrum to raise her.  I’ll be right back.”  Sam limped off to find a stone large enough and a branch strong enough to use to lift the car.

“It’s gonna be dark soon; don’t be gone too long.  I don’t want you out there all by yourself when the sun goes down!”

“Don’t worry.  I won’t be long,” Sam called over his shoulder.

‘Uh huh.  That’ll be the day.’  Dean settled in to wait.

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Sam’s ankle really hurt, but he was at least able to walk with the help of the branch.  A walking stick was all he’d been able to come up with.  Trying to keep the pain at bay, he looked around the forest floor as he hobbled along.  He needed to find a nice-sized stone, at least.  He might be able to use his walking stick as the lever, but that wouldn’t do much good without the stone to brace it against.

‘Actually, I need several stones to put under the car as I lift it.  I need to keep the weight off of Dean if it’ll only go up so far.  If she’ll just raise up a little, I can rest her on the stones and Dean can wriggle out…or I can pull him if he can’t do it himself.’

Suddenly, Sam heard the faint sound of running water.  Hesitating only a moment to be sure of the sound and the direction, Sam headed toward the sound, thinking that there were usually stones around a stream.

The stream turned out to be a gold mine of pebbles.  Pebbles, however, were not what was needed for the job at hand.  Sam needed some good, sturdy rocks.  Looking downstream toward a sound of rushing water, Sam decided to head in that direction and see what he could find.  He found a small waterfall.

It looked very promising as the water was churning quite a bit.  Sam used his walking stick to poke at the apparently large rocks close to the shore and managed to break one free without dislodging it enough to wash away.  Sam let out a combination grunt and groan as he went to his knees to reach the rock.  His injured ankle screamed its protest as he nearly lost his balance and fell in.  Catching himself caused his left arm to rise up in anger, forcing a yelp he couldn’t stifle.

“Sammy?” came from the distance.  Sam grimaced.  He didn’t think he’d been loud enough for Dean to hear.

“I’m okay, Dean.  Just getting the rock I need.  I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

“Be careful!” elicited an eye roll from Sam.

“I will.”

Sam took off what was left of his shirt, loading the rock and a smaller version into it.  He tied the knot with the help of his teeth and managed to get it through a belt loop.  He’d be walking with a list to the side, but it was the best he could do.  He headed back to his brother with his prizes.

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Dean jumped at the sound of his brother’s yelp. “Sam?”

“I’m okay.  Just getting the rock I need.  I’ll be back in a couple of minutes,” came Sam's voice from a distance.

“Be careful!”

“I will.”

‘Yeah, right.’ Dean relaxed a bit, a little reassured.   He let out a sigh of relief a few moments later when the noise in the nearby brush signaled his brother’s return. “What took so long?”

Sam gave his older brother an exasperated look. “Crippled here, Dean.  Working one-handed, sprained ankle.  Any of that ring a bell with you?”

“Wanna trade?”

With a sympathetic wince, Sam shook his head and moved on with the business at hand.  “I got a fairly large rock and a smaller one for you to place under the car to hold it, okay?”

“That’s really great, but you’d better sit down for a minute.  You look like shit.”

Sam’s shoulders slumped at the idea.  He didn’t have to be told twice.  “Gee, thanks.  Right back atcha.  Give me a sec to get you some water first, then yeah, I'll sit.”  He limped over to the trunk of the car; there should be about half case of bottled water in the trunk.  Making short work of the retrieval, he headed back to his brother and handed him the bottle.

After Sam awkwardly managed to get to the ground, Dean held the bottle out to his brother, who grabbed the top and twisted.

“How many Winchesters does it take to open a bottle of water on a mountainside, Sammy?”  Dean grinned and took several long pulls from the bottle.  He was grateful he could raise his head enough to help himself, despite the pain the movement caused.  He was getting worried about Sam, though.

Sam chuckled and shook his head.  He let his head fall back onto the car and sighed.  “What’re we going to do?”

Dean handed the half empty bottle of water to Sam so he could drink. “We’re going to get me out from under my baby, and then we’re going to get the hell out of here.  I’m not thinking I like mountains anymore.”

“Me neither.”  Sam let his brother have the last few sips of water and worked his way to a standing position again.

Moving the smaller rock so Dean could reach it, Sam placed the other one within easy reach.  Sam then placed the end of the branch under the car but had to pull it out a bit as he realized he wouldn’t be able to get under it to lift.  Satisfied with the placement, he bent down slightly, got the branch on his right shoulder, and lifted.  His legs ached with the strain, but he kept up the effort. 

“Here we go!”

Dean watched his brother lift with all of his might and thought he could see the beginning of movement.  He did.  The pressure released a fraction from his chest sending hope flooding through him.  Suddenly, the car came back down on him full force, setting loose a scream at the pain.

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Sam lost his grip on the stick and fell with it to the ground.  He’d been excited at the movement he was noticing, but he couldn’t maintain the upward pressure.  His scream joined Dean’s as he hit the ground and jarred his broken arm.

He lay there trying to breathe through the pain so he could get to Dean to see how badly that fall had hurt his brother. Sam managed to roll himself over so he could see the older man. “Dean?  Dean!  You okay?”

Dean panted as he tried to breathe through the pain.  “Just peachy. It’s hard to breathe, but I think I’ll be okay.  You?”

“Don’t worry.  I’m going to get this off of you right now, whether she wants to or not.”

Sam got himself back up and set up for another try.  This time, he kept his eyes on what was happening and a stronger grip on the branch.  Centering his body on the end of the branch, he gave a mighty grunt and looked for all the world like a weightlifter trying to lift a car off of someone.  The car began to move.

He could neither see nor hear as he focused on his task.  He had to save Dean, plain and simple, and there was no way that wasn’t going to happen.  He wasn’t going to let the car fall again.  End of story.  He felt the branch going slowly up and was strengthened by that feeling.  He kept pushing.  He gasped when something grabbed his ankle.

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Dean knew this had to work this time.  It was harder to breathe and his ribs hurt a lot more than before.  ‘If they weren’t broken before, I’m sure they are now!’

Hearing his brother's breaths coming in sharper, shorter gasps, Sam knew he didn't have as much time as he would have liked. He quickly got himself ready for another round then gave his brother an encouraging smile. "So ... how 'bout them Yankees?"

"They suck," Dean gasped, the effort to laugh sending shooting pains through his chest. "Damn it, Sam, don't make me laugh."

"Sorry.  Okay, hold on." As he started to push again, he grit out as a warning, "This is karma for rooting against the Sox that day, you know."

“Work now, karma later,”  Dean encouraged, even though he was pretty sure his little brother couldn’t hear him.  Sam got like that when he concentrated hard enough. 

Dean kept calling encouragement as the car began to lift and the blessed relief swept through him again.  When the car was high enough, he pushed the rock under the roof and called to Sam to stop, but Sam didn’t hear.  He kept groaning and pushing; the car kept lifting.  Dean was afraid he wouldn’t be able to pull himself out, so he grabbed Sam’s ankle to get his attention.

Sam gasped at the touch and looked down.  “Thank God!”  He let up on the pressure and lowered the car back down an inch until it rested on the rock.  Both brothers held their breath for a moment to see if it would hold.

Dean acted first.  “Sammy, give me your hand.  I can’t get out by myself.  Hurry!”

“You sure you have enough room?” Sam panted.

Dean was starting to feel some pain in his left arm as the circulation began to return, but the pressure was still on his chest a little.  He hated to do it, but he had to ask his brother to try it again to get him some more room.

“I think you’re going to have to do it again.  Hand me the other rock?”

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Sam nodded as he scooted the larger rock closer to Dean and then got back into position.  He shoved the branch further under the car and lifted.  His shoulder was sore from the pressure that had been being placed on it.  He bit back a yelp as he put all of his effort into the task at hand.

This time, he heard Dean’s yell when the bigger rock was in place and he could stop lifting.

Sam leaned over and tried to catch his breath, and then hobbled the step over to behind Dean’s head and grabbed his right hand with his own right.

“Pull!”  Dean yelled.

Sam didn’t need to be told twice and pulled with all his might.  He felt Dean move and Sam let up a little so he could move himself further away and pull again.  In this fashion, he got Dean out from under the car and collapsed at his brother’s side, not even feeling the pain that shot through his arm or his throbbing head.

They lay there for a while, each taking his own inventory and rejoicing in the amazing feat they had just accomplished.

“Thanks, Sammy,”  Dean panted.

“Piece of cake,” Sam panted in return.  “How are you?  Think your ribs are broken?”

“I-I don’t know.  I’m getting really c-cold, though.  D’you think you could get a f-f-fire going?” 

Sam nodded, realizing that shock was setting in and that he needed to get his brother warm ASAP.  He hobbled back to the trunk and brought the blanket he’d seen earlier to lay across Dean.

“Warm that up for me, would you?” he grinned as he set off to work.

Dean nodded. Yeah, right.  Like he was going to share... 

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A nice-sized camp fire had both brothers feeling a little drowsy.  The crisp, fall mountain air was no longer crisp — it was freezing.  Sam had only managed to find the one blanket, but he was pretty sure there was another inside the car, along with their jackets.  That would just have to wait until tomorrow.  It was decided that they would share the single blanket and try to create more body heat for them both.  Dean no longer seemed to be going into shock, leaving Sam able to relax a little.

Sam wouldn’t allow his brother to check him over until the morning, stating it was more important to keep warm than to stitch or bind at this point.  He was, however, concerned that Dean didn’t seem to be using his left arm yet; the pain in Dean’s neck was definitely a worry, too.  He was pretty sure that Dean’s ribs were bruised but not broken, so they could wait until morning for binding them.  Dean was sitting to Sam’s right so he wouldn’t accidentally jostle Sam’s broken arm in his sleep.  Sam could sense Dean trying to work some feeling back into his arm, increasing his concern.  Dean, of course, would not say anything about it.

“Sammy?”

“Mmmm?”

“You warm enough?”

“Snug as a bug.” Sam shifted to make himself a little more comfortable.

“Did we find all the weapons?”

“We got as many as we could find before it got completely dark, Dean.”

“That’s really good, Sam.”

Something in his brother’s voice brought Sam to full alert, but he gave no external indication, except that his eyes locked on Dean’s.  A lifetime of hunting together had made verbal communication unnecessary, subtle body language and eye contact serving to pass along any information necessary.

Without moving, Sam turned his eyes as far as he could to the left and saw several pairs of eyes glowing just outside the circle of light cast by the flames…Wolves?  Moving very carefully, the brothers wrapped their hands around the shotguns held in their respective laps.  The fire was burning well, so no need to move any further for the moment.

In unspoken agreement, the Winchesters sat and watched the eyes that were watching them.  A couple of the pairs of eyes moved restlessly back and forth at the edge of the fire light while others seemed content to just sit and watch.  Occasionally, there sounded a low growl or a whimper, but none volunteered to come closer.

Suddenly, one of the wolves decided to be brave and take a few steps toward the young men at the fire.  Neither brother moved, but the simultaneous sound of their shotguns being cocked caused the adventurous wolf to back up again.

The brothers waited, hardly daring to breathe knowing that one of the animals would eventually be brave enough to really come at them.

“Fire in the hole,” Dean whispered.

Sam pressed against his brother in affirmation, telling him he’d be ready for whatever happened next.

Dean carefully brought his shotgun out from under the blanket and aimed it at the adventurous wolf with one hand, inwardly damning his useless left arm.  He’d had to fire the weapon one-handed before and didn’t doubt his ability this time.  He took in a breath and held it as he squeezed the trigger.

The resulting boom and squeal of the mortally wounded animal reverberated through the forest.  The rest of the pack, which had been watching the hunter curiously, immediately turned and ran.  Other night animals reacted, too, flooding the forest with the sounds of scurrying and flapping wings as startled animals and birds tried to get away.

“I don’t like the forest.”

“Me neither.”

“We need to get out of here tomorrow.”

“Agreed.”

“You go ahead and get some sleep.  I’ll wake you in a couple of hours.” Dean broke open the shotgun and replaced the spent shell. 

“You sure, Dean?” Sam looked at his brother skeptically.

“Seriously, dude.  Sleep.  I’ll wake you.”

Sam accepted that and settled down comfortably again…well, as comfortably as the situation allowed.  The events of the day, the comforting warmth from the fire and his brother’s presence had him falling asleep in no time at all.

Chapter Two

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Dean awoke to Sam trying to get out from under the blanket to stand up. “Dude, what’re you doing?” Dean blinked and looked around, not sure for a split second where they were. The memory returned, however, and the morning chill confirmed the situation.

“I’m trying to get up and step into the trees to take a leak, ok? Why? Did you want to hold it for me? Didn't think so.” Sam groused. “Just sit tight. I’ll bring some more firewood on the way back.”

Dean nodded, reached for the last two logs next to him, and added them to the fire. After the wolf incident, the rest of the night had gone peacefully. He’d woken Sam after four hours instead of the two he’d promised — Sam would take the rest of the night — and gone immediately to sleep himself. It was still only twilight in the forest, and judging from the cover, Dean wasn’t sure they’d know when the sun actually rose.

His ribs really hurt as he tried to stretch and get up. He was pretty sure they were just bruised, but they’d have to somehow get them bound to ease the pain. He just wished his damn left arm would settle down. The shooting pains hurt like hell, and the pain in his neck when he moved it was excruciating. It wasn’t going to be easy today, not with both of them with gimpy left arms. He needed to get Sam’s arm set and splinted before any further damage was done to it.

Finally on his feet, he looked around at the campsite. The body of the dead wolf lay to the left of the fire. He walked over to it to study it for a moment. It was just a wolf, nothing supernatural at all. At least that was good. He briefly wondered as he dragged the carcass away into the trees if a wolf pack carried a grudge or sought revenge. Jaws had. God, that movie sucked.

Dean walked in the opposite direction of his brother and took care of his morning needs, and then went to see what they might have in the way of provisions — close by, that is. So much hadn’t been found in their hurry to get settled for the night. He really wanted to find the jack and get the Impala back on her feet. In a perfect world, they’d be able to drive out of here. He huffed. In a perfect world, they wouldn’t be “here”.

First order of business: his brother’s injuries. Then they could have something to eat. He walked over to the Impala’s trunk. “What a mess!” he growled. Not only had the trunk lid been sprung open, but the lid to the weapons’ compartment had as well. It hadn’t been the neatest before, but it was trashed now.

Looking around, he saw what they hadn’t been able to see in the evening twilight the night before. His Glock was several feet away, the two machetes a little further on, one of them stuck almost vertically into the ground. The first aid kit had been in the trunk; he hoped it wasn’t too far away. They needed that above all else at this point. He found it at the base of a tree, miraculously in one piece, even if it was somewhat dented. Relieved, he headed back to the car. ‘Where is Sam anyway?’

Stumbling/cursing sounds behind Dean provided the answer to that question. “Hey, Gretel. Did you find us a warm gingerbread house? What took so long?” Dean walked toward his brother. A dark glare was his only reward for his concern. Ignoring the look, Dean turned around. “Come over here and sit down. I’m going to take a look at you and do whatever patching up I can.”

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Sam hobbled over to the campfire and dropped the firewood he was carrying. He didn’t have much, but there really was no way to effectively carry firewood and use a walking stick with the same hand. He felt lucky to be able to do either. He didn’t feel inclined to be cooperative, either, but his common sense took over. He needed attention. Dean needed attention as much as Sam did, but the older man was in full big brother mode. Sam knew he might as well not fight it.

He sighed as Dean struggled to get down to him without hurting his ribs or his neck. The fact that his older brother’s left arm still wasn’t useful didn’t escape Sam’s notice either. He’d have to have a look at that, as well as the ribs when it was his turn. Maybe a pinched nerve? ‘Stubborn jerk.’

Sam was brought to full attention when Dean began gently pressing around the gash in his forehead.

“Sorry, Sammy,” Dean muttered.

“It’s ok. Just do what you have to do.” Sam closed his eyes and prepared for the examination he was going to endure.

“I should have stitched this yesterday," Dean winced as he dug out a couple of butterfly bandages from the kit. "It looks gross, but it’s at the hairline, so the chicks shouldn’t notice it too much. Sorry, kiddo.”

“Nothing you could do, dude.” Dean started to say something, but Sam cut him off. “Just do it, ok? This isn’t your fault, and there’s no way you can make it be, so don’t bother. It was a freak accident and we’re both alive, so we’ll just go from here. Okay? Dean, okay?” Sam made sure his brother was looking at him so he could verify that he understood.

After looking for a moment as though he might not be done with this discussion, Dean finally nodded and moved on. “Hold still.”

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Dean didn’t care what Sam made him agree to; this was his fault. He’d been driving; he should have been paying enough attention to the road to see the ice and be able to handle it. He should have kept his baby on the road and not gone over the edge. If he’d done what he was supposed to, Sam wouldn’t be hurt, and his baby wouldn’t be lying on her side.

They’d been lucky last night with the wolf. They needed to get out of here real soon, but there were things that had to be done first. He had to take care of Sam and do what he could to make him better. His damned arm needed to wake up. The pain in his neck that was not his brother, for a change, needed to frikkin’ go away. This was going to be almost impossible with only one working arm.

“Sorry, Sammy,” he muttered again as Sam flinched at his clumsy ministrations. “I think that’s not too bad, actually. Here: open a couple of these butterflies for me, okay? Better, yet, make it three. You need all the help you can get, right?” Dean snickered as Sam gave a long suffering sigh and opened up the three bandages, handing the first one to his brother.

“This isn’t going to be fun, Sammy. Are you ready? Wait a second.” Dean opened the kit again and pulled out a bottle of pain killers and gave some to Sam with a bottle of water. Sam took them gratefully and swallowed the pills with about half of the water.

At Sam’s nod, Dean put one end of the bandage on one side of the wound and pressed with his thumb as the rest was held by his fingers.

Looking for any way to distract his brother from thinking about the tugging and pulling of his skin, Dean asked, “Hey, Sam?”

“Mmmmm?”

“Remember that summer we stayed with Pastor Jim?”

He made a face at Sam’s grimace, then carefully used the attached end to pull the skin as close together as he could with one hand, pressing the other side down. Both brothers let out a huge breath simultaneously and exchanged shaky smiles. Dean raised an eyebrow at his little brother. Sam’s answer was the offer of the second butterfly.

“Yeah, of course. Why?”

“I was just thinking about that and the pond he had. Remember the day we decided to go for a swim without asking or telling anyone?”

Sam’s lips curled up in a smile, “I do. He was really pissed when he found us, huh?”

“He sure was. I didn’t sit down for a week! Told me I was the older one and should be more responsible than that.”

Sam snickered. "Being the youngest has its advantages."

A few wistful looks and inside joke chuckles later, Dean sat back and appraised his work. “Not bad, if I do say so myself. You should be as lovely as ever, Samantha.”

Awkwardly dodging his brother’s half-hearted swing, Dean moved down to look at Sam’s injured ankle, noticed Sam’s calf was moderately swollen over the rim of the boot, then decided against taking the boot off. “I’m not touchin’ this. If we take your foot out of there, we run the risk of that thing puffing up like a balloon. Besides, no Ace wrap is gonna hold it as stable as that leather is right now. We’ll get it looked at right once we get outta here, alright?”

“Sounds all right. Besides, it’s not like you could actually work an Ace wrap right now anyway,” Sam sighed. “Y’know you’re gonna hafta let me look at that arm before it turns into something serious.”

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Sam was exhausted. Sometimes he thought being treated for them was worse than getting the injuries. His big brother had been as gentle as he could be with his treatment, but it just couldn’t be helped. He’d thought the scalp was bad, but getting his arm into a splint was absolutely excruciating. Dean had somehow managed to get the final touches done after Sam had passed out. Sam had helped as much as he could before then, but the cumulative effect of the pain had become too much. Dean had managed to put Sam’s arm back inside his shirt to keep it as immobile as it could be under the circumstances.

When Sam came to, Dean was leaning against the car beside him. He seemed to be asleep, but Sam’s first movement had twin emeralds gazing at him in concern. Wanting to allay his brother’s fears, Sam spoke first. “I’m ok. It just all caught up with me there for a minute. How long was I out?”

Dean shrugged, grimacing at the movement. “Just a few minutes, three maybe. I thought I’d wait to see how long you wanted to nap, Princess.”

“Shut up,” Sam said without any heat at Dean's smirk. “You ready for your turn?”

“I’m good. There’s no hurry. I put another log on the fire, so that’s good for a while, too. You rest, ok?”

Sam huffed, “I’ll rest when I’ve checked you out. I want to make sure those ribs aren’t broken and see if we can do anything about your arm. What’d you do with those painkillers? You need to take some, too.” Ignoring Dean’s scowl, Sam spotted the bottle of pills and held them out to Dean. Dean popped it open, took a couple out, and used the rest of the bottle of water to swallow them. Sam scooted closer to his brother and began to examine Dean’s ribs.

“You know I was scared the whole time you were getting that spanking. The way you were hollering, I thought Pastor Jim was killing you.”

“I didn’t holler!” Dean was indignant. "I don’t holler."

“You so did. You yelled like a girl,” Sam laughed.

Dean held his breath during the exam, blowing it out when it was ended. “I think you’ll be fine, Dean. I don’t think anything’s broken, but I’d like to wrap them to give you some support. Okay? Can you get up all right and look for the rib belt we used last time? I’m pretty sure it was in the trunk.”

“Of course I can get up and get the belt. I’m not an invalid, you know,” Dean groused. “I didn’t yell like a girl.”

“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you there.” Sam laughed as his brother made a rude gesture.

Sam paid special attention to how Dean moved as he headed toward the back of the car. Their many years in such close proximity and taking care of each other’s various injuries made each an expert on the other’s physical condition. The more he watched Dean, the more Sam was sure that the whole arm thing was a pinched nerve in his brother’s neck. After wrapping Dean’s ribs, he’d see what he could do about releasing it.

By the time Dean got back from the trunk, Sam was on his feet — well, foot — and leaning against the roof of the car. Dean held his hand out and showed Sam the wadded up, wrinkled rib belt. The brothers looked at each other and back to the belt.

Sam couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Dude, we gotta take better care of this stuff. We need these things too often to treat them like this.”

He was happy to see Dean giving in to a chuckle, even if he winced as his ribs hurt.

“Here: let’s get this done.” Sam took one end of the belt in his right hand and instructed Dean to hold his end against his chest where the pain was and turn around. When he’d made a complete 360 degree turn, Sam pressed the hook & loop end onto the end Dean was holding and stepped back.

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Dean felt immediate relief as Sam put the end of the rib belt he was holding onto the end that Dean was holding against himself. The strain of trying to keep from moving to avoid hurting the ribs was getting too great. It could stand to be a little tighter, but it was probably as good as it would get considering their situation.

Dean took a little deeper breath than he’d been able to, nodding at Sam’s questioning gaze. “Much better, Sammy. Thanks, bro.” He took a step back, though, as Sam reached for his left arm. “The arm’s fine, Sam. It just needs to wake up.”

He could see the surprise in Sam’s eyes at his reaction, but the shooting pains up into his neck were bad enough. He watched his brother warily as Sam’s expression changed and a slight smirk appeared on his face.

“That’s fine, little man,” Sam said. “I understand if you can’t take any more right now. I’ll look at it later. It’s ok. You just take it easy, huh?”

Dean felt anger flare at Sam’s words and stepped forward again. “Who’re you calling ‘little man’? I can kick your ass any day of the week with one hand tied behind my back.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Well, then, why’d you step back when I wanted to look at your arm?”

“I…um…er… Fine. Go ahead.” Dean completely deflated and grudgingly let Sam take a look.

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” Sam stated as he carefully lifted Dean’s right arm.

Dean winced and groaned as the pain from Sam’s gentle exam became stronger. “It’s like a hot poker going all the way up my arm and into my neck. Damn, Sam!” Dean cried out as he jerked away and the action caused more pain. He leaned against the Impala and glared at his brother as he tried to breathe through the pain. It’s why Dean hated going to doctors; they always poke and prod and pull until what was a manageable pain became almost unbearable. “You’re sure as hell not going to do that again!”

“No need. I’m pretty sure from your reaction that you have a pinched nerve in your neck someplace. Let me see if I can find the point of stricture and massage it out a little.”

Dean stepped back again and put up his good hand. “Not unless I get dinner and a movie first. Besides, you’re not my type.”

“Very funny.”

Sam had the height advantage and the length of arm advantage over his brother and Dean knew it. He let Sam gently feel his neck along the vertebrae and gasped when his brother hit a particularly sore spot. Sam began to gently massage the spot and Dean had to admit to himself that it felt pretty good. He closed his eyes and went with it.

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Sam limped back from the trees with a bag of rock salt and two cans of lighter fluid. He put them down in the pile that was next to the Impala, and reached inside his shirt with a smirk as he brought out a bag of Peanut M&Ms to put beside the pile of tools of their trade. This should brighten his brother’s mood. They were hungry. Dean was pissed because the bag had not been found yet. As far as Dean was concerned, Peanut M&Ms were a basic food group.

The younger hunter grabbed a bottle of water along with the bottle of painkillers, sitting down to rest a bit and wait for Dean to return. He was sure Dean would be ready for him to work on his neck a little more. Between the two of them, they’d fashioned a sling-like contraption to keep Dean’s arm from moving unnecessarily, which had also seemed to help.

Sam’s ankle was holding up pretty well, considering. It had been protesting the constant use it was getting and seemed to be pleased to not have his large frame pressing on it at the moment. His arm was throbbing as he popped the top off the pill bottle and shook out a couple into his mouth. Holding the water bottle between his knees, he twisted the cap off and took a long drink.

He really was tired now that he’d stopped moving, his head throbbing. Putting his head back against the Impala, he closed his eyes; maybe just for a couple of seconds…

Sam was suddenly brought back from his doze at the sound of his brother calling his name. Dean sounded so frantic that Sam sat up straight and grabbed for the gun in his waistband, looking for the danger. As he realized that it was only Dean hurrying toward him fearfully, he relaxed again. “Why were you yelling, dude?”

“I saw the way you were all slumped over and thought something was wrong. Are you ok?”

“I’m just tired. We’ve been working pretty hard this morning, you know.”

“You’re sure there’s nothing else?” Dean lowered himself in front of Sam and checked the gash on the lump at his brother's hairline.

Sam batted his brother’s hand away. “I just got back with an armload of stuff and sat down to wait for you. I took a couple of painkillers and must have dozed off, ok?”

Dean looked his brother in the eyes and seemed to realize the truth of what Sam was saying. He completed the trip down to the ground and sat next to him, leaning his left shoulder a little against Sam’s right. He reached over, took the water bottle, and took a big swig as Sam put the bottle of painkillers in his lap.

“I found the jack.”

Sam looked up. “Really? Maybe we can get the car back to vertical. Even if we aren’t able to drive out of here, we still need our jackets and stuff.”

Dean nodded, wincing slightly at the movement and closed his eyes. “Yeah, I know. Maybe that bag of M&Ms is in there, too. I’m getting really hungry.”

“I found the M&Ms.”

Emerald eyes popped open and locked onto hazel ones. “You wouldn’t kid your big brother about something as important as finding his M&Ms, would you?”

Sam laughed out loud at his brother’s reaction. “I might, but not today. I put them over by the other stuff.”

Dean was on his feet in an instant, despite the pain Sam knew it caused him. “Sammy, you don’t just put M&M’s on the ground! These are precious!”

“They were on the ground all night, Gollum…unguarded. Nothing got them. I think they’re safe during the daylight in our camp.”

Holding the bag in his teeth and digging for his pocket knife, Dean glowered, “Mpftlmtfhemd!”

Sam shook his head. “I’m not even going to ask what that was. Give me the bag. I’ll hold it while you cut it open.”

Seconds later, they were happily crunching on the candy.

“I know I’ve got a couple of power bars in my jacket pocket.”

“That’s ok. When we get her upright, you can have those. I’m good with these.” Dean waved his hand at the M&Ms.

“Do you want me to work on your neck a little more?”

“In a few minutes, Sammy. Let’s just sit here a while.” He took another swig of the water and handed the bottle to his brother.

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The older hunter was glaring at his brother as he walked back to the Impala with the crowbar. He was furious that Sam had insisted on carrying the jack while Dean carried the lighter crowbar/jack handle. ‘Sam’s hurt, dammit, Can’t he just let me take care of him like I’m supposed to? It’s bad enough that Sam’s giving me neck massages, but now I’m not allowed to carry heavy stuff?’

Dean continued his scowl as they arrived at the car and Sam turned to look at him. The scowl remained as they got to their knees to dig a little more dirt from under the car to make room for the jack. The scowl only softened as Sam handed Dean the blanket they had used the night before.

“We might as well try and do as little damage as possible.”

Dean nodded. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

Sam smiled, shrugging his shoulders in a ‘no big deal’ gesture.

Dean looked at his brother through his eyelashes as he stood up next to the car. “You ready?”

“Let’s do it.”

Sam took hold of the handle and began to pump. The first few strokes were quick and easy until the top plate began to take on the weight of the car. Sam began to have to put some weight onto the handle as the car slowly began to lift a little.

Dean was ready with his foot against a thick piece of wood to push under the car when it was raised enough. He watched Sam carefully, moving the wood closer as the car got higher.

“Stop, Sam. I think this should do it.” Dean pushed on the wood, Sam’s giant hand adding to the effort, but the car was slightly too low.

Without a word, Sam cranked the jack a couple of more times until there was room for the brothers to push the wood under the car. Sam reversed the jack and began to gently lower the car until the wood had the weight. The brothers held their breath until satisfied that it was going to hold. They then moved the jack to a location under the car that had been unavailable until it was raised a bit.

The ground at the new spot wasn’t level, but Dean had located a suitable rock at the stream holding it under the jack as Sam got it into position to crank the handle until it was firmly under the car. Sam immediately began the slow process of leaning his weight onto the handle and listening for the satisfying click that meant the jack was doing its job. He kept it up until the car was deemed to be at a proper angle. Another chunk of wood was moved into place at the new location and a similar chunk to the rear to give more even support.

The brothers stood back and surveyed the situation. Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean, who nodded in response.

“Good!” Sam said. "Let’s take a rest before we try to get her the rest of the way, ok? You look like you need some more work on your neck.”

“I’m good. Let’s get this done.”

“Well, good for you, Dean, but I’m not good. Let’s rest, have some water, and we'll see if I can release that nerve this time. I know where that trigger point is now.”

Dean huffed, sitting down next to Sam between two trees. He had to admit to himself that he was pretty wiped out, but he wasn’t going to admit that to his brother. He carefully took his left arm (worthless piece of crap!) out of his sling and straightened it out to keep it from becoming too stiff.

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Sam took a swig of water from the stash of bottles and handed it over to Dean. He leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes, giving in to the exhaustion. He had to admit to himself, though, that they’d accomplished more than he thought they would have. They were both alive. They’d found most of their stuff. The car was here, and they were about to get her back on her feet. He chuckled inwardly at the terms for the Impala he’d used to himself. Dean would so tease him about that.

Opening his eyes, he glanced at Dean and caught a glimpse of the pain his brother was in. Dean was trying to loosen his pinched nerve himself by rotating his head back and forth and tilting it from side to side. Sam shook his head. He knew how much pain that would have caused, but the only sign of it was the grimace on Dean’s face. Giving his brother a moment to compose himself when he was done, Sam closed his eyes and sighed.

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“You ok?”

Sam ignored the slight breathlessness in Dean’s voice and nodded. “Yeah, I’m just kind of enjoying the fresh air and the sound of the birds.”

He looked at his brother and snorted at the look on Dean’s face — a look of complete horror.

“Are you crazy?” Dean leaned forward, wincing a little at the strain on his neck. “We’re stuck here. You’re hurt, and my baby’s on her side! Wolves came for us last night, and it looks like we’re going to have to stay another night. What about this is pleasant, Sam?”

That caused Sam to chuckle. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re hurt, too. But —” Sam held up a finger to cut off whatever Dean was about to say. “We’re both alive, we’re together, we have most of our stuff, and it looks like the car is going to be upright today. I think those are all good things, Dean.”

Sam's sincere eyes locked with his brother’s, insisting that Dean at least see Sam’s point of view.

Dean kept the gaze and finally, seeing how much this seemed to mean to Sam, he looked around. “I guess you’re right. There are some positive things about our situation.” Grinning now, Dean looked back at his brother. “I really don’t think I like trees.”

Sam laughed and reached for Dean’s neck, surprised that Dean sat and let him work the muscles, giving them another chance to relax, and another chance for the nerve to release. This was the third time that Sam had massaged the area and tried the trigger points. They both knew that it would take time for the numbness and pain to go away. The work they were doing wasn’t helping any. He was trying to hide it, but Sam could see how much pain his brother was in.

As he continued the gentle massage, his thumb found the trigger point that seemed to be the most stubborn and began applying more pressure. Dean gasped, so Sam let up a little but didn’t stop. When Dean’s breathing evened out again, he applied more pressure. This time he thought he felt a little movement under his thumb. Encouraged, he kept up the pressure and continued to work the area until moments later, beneath the pad of his thumb, the steely knot seemed to simply evaporate. He kept up a gentler version of the work for another couple of minutes until he was relatively certain the area wouldn’t tighten back up too easily.

Dean didn’t move for a moment. Just as Sam was about to check if he was ok, Dean spoke quietly, “Dude, if you ever mention this when we get out of here, I will kick your ass!”

Sam laughed out loud at that. Dean was beginning to feel a little better. “I take it you felt that, too?”

“Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

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As they were getting ready to put the Impala back up on her wheels, Dean watched his little brother in concern, worried about the kid's broken arm and sprained ankle. His own arm was back in the makeshift sling, but he felt like he wasn’t quite so tight. The brothers lined themselves up against the roof of the car, Sam standing on the dirt that was a little higher and using the advantage of his own height while Dean pushed from a little lower angle.

“Ready, Sammy?”

“Ready.”

“On three. One…two…three!”

Having already agreed on a slight rocking motion, they began to push. Just when Dean thought it wasn’t really going to work and that they should stop to try again later, Sam let out a whoop. The Impala went on over to land and bounce a few times on her wheels.

Dean’s grin nearly split his face in two as he and Sam congratulated each other and enjoyed the moment. It was a short-lived moment, however, the smile fading from Dean’s face as he took in the damage to his baby. He walked slowly around her, running his hand along the paint feeling each dent. Sam stood and watched in somber silence.

The windshield was cracked all the way across. The driver’s door and rear passenger door on that side were crunched in somewhat. They’d have to see if the windows being down inside the doors had helped or hindered.

After the inspection, Dean patted the hood of the car and spoke quietly, “Don’t worry, Baby, I’ll get you all fixed up. Okay?”

Standing up straight and motioning to Sam, Dean reached for the driver’s door handle. “Let’s see what we can get out of her and check out how much internal damage she has.”

Sam hobbled to the passenger side and opened the back door. Their jackets were visible in the jumble of stuff partially on the seat and the floor. One sleeve was close, so Sam grabbed it and pulled it out. “Here’s your jacket, Dean. Mine’s here, too. They’ll help out a lot tonight. That other blanket’s here, too.”

Dean tried to turn his head to look at Sam but found his neck wasn’t that loose yet. Searing pain shot from his neck through his shoulder and on down his arm. He gritted his teeth so that all that was allowed to escape his lips was a grunt. He didn’t want Sam to fuss over him any more, so he just pretended that he’d meant to make the sound, acknowledging Sam’s information.

There was no comment from the back about his grunt, so Dean began to gather the tapes and toss them into their box. He desperately wanted to start the engine, but he wanted to give the Impala a few minutes to sort herself out.

“I found a bag of Cheetos!” Dean held them up triumphantly. “The expiration date was about six months ago, but they should still be fine.”

“Gah, there’s stuff on the floor back here that must have been under the front seat for months. Why don’t you clean her out when you wash and wax her? Ewwww!”

Dean got out of the car so he could see what Sam was talking about. “What’d you find?”

Sam was looking totally disgusted as he held up a dried out banana peel. “Ugh!”

“Huh! Toss it out, Sammy; it’s biodegradable.”

“There’s probably something growing in here. It’s a wonder it hasn’t made us sick as much time as we spend in this car.”

“Fine. When we get out of here, we’ll have her cleaned out, get a real thorough going over. How’s that sound?” He patted the car, having directed the question to it.

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Sam was tired…really tired. He knew Dean had to be just as exhausted as he was, but he didn’t really show any signs of it. He watched as his brother busied himself organizing their supplies, humming something Sam couldn’t quite catch…maybe something from Quiet Riot. Sam’s tired mind didn’t really care. His brother seemed positively happy, for which Sam was grateful. He knew having the car upright again was a big relief to his big brother. He suddenly realized that Dean was looking at him expectantly.

“What?” Sam blinked.

“I said, are you hungry?” Dean held up a power bar.

Sam wasn’t hungry at all. He just wanted to sleep, but he knew Dean would never let him get away with that, so he nodded and held out his hand to catch the bar that Dean tossed. Sam tore the end off with his teeth and took a small bite. He leaned back against the tree, chewing absently. Strawberry flavor demanded attention from his taste buds, forcing Sam to suddenly realize that he was hungry after all. The bar was really good. Finishing it off, he tossed the wrapper into the fire pit from the night before.

“So are we going to sleep in the Impala tonight? Those door windows are cracked, but I think it’d be better inside than outside tonight.” He looked up at the sky. “It’s getting cloudy, and we might be in for some weather.”

Dean looked up, too. “Yeah, I think it’ll be better inside the car. We’ll keep the fire going out here, but if we sleep in the car, we can both sleep. You look tired. How’s your arm?”

“It’s a little sore, but we’ve been working pretty hard today, huh?” Sam grinned at Dean, hoping that would satisfy him. He didn’t mention his still-throbbing head. Sam was now certain of a concussion.

Dean seemed to be studying him, though, and Sam wasn’t sure he was going to get away without the Big Brother Checkup.

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Dean studied his little brother for a few seconds. He didn’t really believe that Sam’s arm was “a little sore”, but he also thought the best thing would be for Sam to get a good night’s rest. Decision made, he started to pick the supplies up and get them into the trunk and interior. Some of the weapons could go in both places, and some of the food and water in both places. They would sleep in the car tonight, but keep a fire going.

“We’re going to sleep in luxury tonight, kiddo. It’s the kind of luxury we can only get in a 1967 Impala. You’ve worked really hard today, and I think you should just get some rest, huh?”

“You gotta be just as beat as I am. C’mon, we’ll close her up and both get some rest,” Sam protested weakly.

Dean gave a faint shake of his head. “No, man, I’m pretty stoked right now just seeing my baby back on her feet, everything we managed to find... You go ahead and get some sleep, dude. You’ve earned it. I’m gonna inventory our stuff and get it back in the trunk, then maybe take a peek under the hood, make sure everything’s still connected, check out the block. If the weather breaks before I’m done, I’ll just hunker down, too, but it’d be nice if we could get her running to get a little heat going, if nothing else.”

Dean frowned as Sam blinked, one eye closing slightly ahead of the other in spite of the fact that his pupils were both the same size. ‘You better be alright, runt... That gash on your noggin better be just a gash...’ Doing his best to keep the worry from his voice, Dean steered Sam a little closer to the car. “Here…let’s get your jacket on, then you can wrap yourself up in this blanket. I’ll be in in a little while.”

Already half gone, Sam barely nodded as Dean held his jacket so he could put his right arm in the sleeve. Dean wrapped the jacket around Sam’s left shoulder, deciding to leave the broken arm at peace for the time being. In no time, Sam was sliding into the back seat of the car, pulling the door closed behind himself. The window came down a crack and his head disappeared below the door panel.

“Don’t you worry, Sammy. I’m not gonna let anything else happen t’you...”

With Sam safely bedded down, Dean put his own jacket on and set about getting the supplies back into the trunk. Now that they had so much of their stuff back, it needed to be protected from the local wildlife. He kept a couple of bottles of water for inside the car, making a mental note to fill some in the stream tomorrow. Final decisions made on what went where, Dean stoked up the fire. The heat of the flame felt good against the chill that was already starting, along with the dampness of the rain that was on the way. He stood there warming his backside, then turning to warm the front of his body.

“God, I hate camping!” he said to the trees. “Even a crappy motel is better than this.”

Moving over to the front of the Impala, he released the latch and raised the hood. Taking the flashlight from his jacket pocket, he aimed it towards the engine.

“OK, baby, let’s see what you’ve got going on under here.”

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Sam was lying in the backseat of the Impala listening to the comforting sounds of his brother working outside. He was glad to be sleeping inside tonight instead of under the blanket by the fire again. He hated camping and knew that his brother did, too. His lips quirked into a little smile as he heard Dean say as much to the trees.

He frowned, sucking in a breath as the pain in his broken arm flared for a brief second. He sure hoped they were able to get out of the forest tomorrow. This was so far beyond a bad situation, Sam couldn’t imagine what else could happen. He knew he had a concussion. He’d tried to hide it all day, but Dean needed him to help. There were so many things they had to get done…

No matter what was happening, though, his big brother was outside making sure that everything would be all right. That was the one thing he was sure of in his foggy mind, and it made all the difference in the world to Sam. Nothing bad could happen with Dean out there. Feeling completely safe, Sam let himself relax and give in to his fatigue. In a matter of seconds, his breathing evened out and soft snores could be heard only inside the car.

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Dean was almost completely absorbed in his task, but a hunter never fully lets his senses shut down. A niggling at the back of his neck brought him out from the engine compartment to look around. He shone the flashlight around into the trees making a complete circuit around the car, but saw no sign of anything wrong. No wolves. No coyotes. What was it? Frowning at the trees and trusting his instincts, he moved to the trunk, pulling out the bag of salt that Sam had found and brought back to camp. ‘Thank you, little brother.’

He put the flashlight under his left arm, held the salt bag carefully in his right hand, and poured a circle around the Impala, making sure it was large enough that he could walk around without disturbing it but thick enough to be dependable. Satisfied with the circle, he flashed the light once more into the trees and then went back under the hood.

A few seconds later, a sound penetrated his thoughts. He backed out again, looking around with a frown on his face. Flashing the light around into the trees, worried that the wolves might have returned, he made another circuit of the car. The salt line was still in place and complete. There were no signs of anything in the trees, no gleaming eyes or rustling movements, no glimpses of fur. ‘Winchester, you’re losing your mind. Stop this and get back to work. Was that battery fluid you saw?’

Dean once again leaned into the engine compartment but heard the same sound again. This time it seemed closer. Backing out and flashing the light around and seeing nothing, he shook his head and went back to his job, muttering to himself about his inability to just get it done. He didn’t really want to be up all night. Moving to the side, he reached for the battery cables to make sure that they were still solidly attached. Just as he got hold of the cable, he heard the sound he’d heard before, but this time it was accompanied by a deep growl and a metallic twang. Before he could react, the hood came crashing down on top of him. The world turned into a mass of loud noises and pain that spilled into darkness.

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Sam’s eyes popped open as a loud noise and his brother’s scream brought him out of a dreamless sleep. Instantly awake but fighting the effects of his concussion, Sam struggled to remember where he was.

‘In the Impala, okay. Where’s Dean?’

“Dean?”

Suddenly he remembered that Dean was outside and that his scream had been what woke Sam up. Sitting up and wincing at the pain in his arm that movement elicited, he looked out the windshield to see a cougar sitting on the hood, grabbing at something over the front side.

“DEAN!”

Sam grabbed his .45, unlatched and pushed open the door with his good foot, and scooted out the passenger side. As silently as he’d been taught his whole life, he came up behind the cougar and fired the .45 at an almost point-blank range. The cat turned on him with an angry snarl and made a swipe at Sam. Sam fired again. The huge animal leaped off the hood of the car, tearing into the trees, trailing blood. Again the young hunter fired, knowing that he wouldn’t hit the cat but hoping to encourage it to keep going. The thought that two .45 caliber slugs had not brought the cat down flashed briefly through his mind, but he dismissed it as a worry for later and went to his brother.

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“Dean! Oh, God, please let him be ok!” Sam yelled out his frustration as he feared he couldn’t raise the hood of the car off his brother without letting him fall and getting hurt worse. He hobbled to the side of the engine compartment and reached in to feel Dean’s neck letting out a breath when he felt a steady but not as strong as he’d like pulse.

Checking for any injuries that might have been caused by the cat, Sam found blood on Dean’s right hip. Feeling the area as gently as he could, Sam found there were definite claw marks. Even his gentle prodding elicited a groan from his brother.

“Dean? Are you with me?”

Not receiving an answer nor wasting any time, he went to stand behind Dean, using his own body to hold his brother in place, and began the process of raising the hood, very grateful for his long arms. It wasn’t an easy task, but he was desperate to get Dean out of there.

Sam cringed at the noise the now out-of-whack hood made but didn’t worry about it alerting any other unwanted visitors. He was sure it would work to scare anything off that might still be in the area after the gunshots. Praying that it would still stay up in its current condition, he hesitantly let go but didn’t move his hand away. The hood seemed ok, so Sam put his arm around Dean’s stomach and lifted him out of the engine compartment.

Sam backed up against the nearest tree and used it to brace himself as he tried to shift his hold from Dean’s stomach to his chest above the injured ribs. Finally having his brother upright, Sam began to slowly lower them both to the base of the tree. Finally seated, he let go of Dean’s chest to put his hand on his brother’s forehead pulling his head back until he felt it rest on his chest. He raised his left knee to keep Dean from falling over to that side.

Sam patted Dean’s cheek leaning down to speak into his ear. “Dean. Dean, wake up, man! This is so not good here. You’re losing cool points by the minute, big brother. C’mon, man.” He was finally rewarded with a moan. “That’s it, Dean. Wake up. I need you to wake up!”

Dean’s head began rolling back and forth against Sam’s chest as he struggled toward consciousness; his body tensed and his good arm flailed weakly. Sam did the only thing he could do until his brother fully woke up: he held onto him and continued speaking encouragement.

“It’s ok, Dean. I’ve got you. It’s alright, now. It’s gone and won’t come back, Dean. You’re going to be fine, ok? Just open your eyes for me and show me that you’re in there. Come on, big brother, please wake up.” Sam continued his litany until he felt Dean coming to. Dean’s body seemed to relax a little and his struggles subsided

“Sammy?”

“Yeah, man, it’s me. I’ve got you.”

“Wh’happn'd?”

“I found you under the hood of the car and a mountain lion on top of the hood. Not doing anything half way this trip, are we?” Sam gave a slight chuckle, more from nerves than thinking about anything even remotely funny.

“Is she ok?”

Sam frowned, then realized Dean was talking about the Impala. “She’ll be ok, Dean. She’ll be fine.”

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Dude, are you hugging me?” Dean asked weakly.

Sam did laugh at that. “Yes, I guess I am. I just need to sit here for a minute, ok?”

Dean nodded, not wanted to break the contact either. “Where’s the mountain lion?”

“I shot it twice with my .45; it ran off. I’m sure I wasn’t any more than eight feet away from it, so I couldn’t have missed. It took two slugs and ran off. I’m thinking it wasn’t really a cat at all.”

“Shapeshifter?”

Sam nodded against his brother’s hair. “I think so. I didn’t have the pistol with the silver rounds in it, so it just took the shots. Probably healing as we speak. Who’d have thought we’d run into something supernatural after a wreck?”

“Winchesters.”

“Yep, that’s Winchester luck, all right.”

They sat quietly for a few seconds.

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“My hip hurts. Did the cat get me?”

“Yeah, he did. I’m pretty sure it’s superficial, but you’ve got some bleeding goin’ on. Do you think you can lean forward so I can move and get around to check it out?”

Dean answered by complying with a wince and a quiet grunt at the pain. When Sam was out from behind him, he tried scooting back to lean against the tree. Sam hooked his right arm under Dean’s right arm to offer whatever help he could. Finally, Dean could rest. Sam gave him the flashlight to hold on the wounds so he could see.

As Sam examined what he could see of his brother’s hip through the jeans, he marveled at how shallow the slashes were. There seemed to be a number of them, but the cat apparently wasn’t able to get a good angle or something.

Needing to see better, he looked at Dean. “Help me pull your jeans down. I need to get a better look.”

Dean looked at him in horror. Fine, but remember where you’re supposed to be checking,” Dean groused, but did as he was instructed. He held the flashlight again for his brother, but looked off into the darkness.

Sam moved Dean’s hand with the flashlight so that it was better aimed to get a really good look at the wounds. No stitches were going to be needed. That was amazing; something was going their way for a change.

“I’m going to get the kit. I’ll just clean these out and put a bandage on them. They’ll be fine. I’ll throw another couple of logs on the fire, too. Let me have the flashlight.”

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Breathing a sigh of relief, Dean handed the flashlight over to Sam and let himself relax. He watched Sam hobble to the trunk of the car and knew he should be the one taking care of Sam, but Sam seemed kind of cranky…probably the concussion. No need to upset his brother if he could avoid it. He’d let Sam fix him up so they’d get some sleep. Dean rubbed his good hand over his face. He felt completely wiped out.

‘How did a shapeshifter get inside the salt line?’

“Sam?”

“I’m coming.”

“No, I was just wondering how a shapeshifter got inside the salt barrier. You said it was on top of the hood?”

Sam nodded as he passed the fire. “Yep. You with the hood on top of you and the cat on top of that. That’s how it was.”

Dean thought for a second, looking up at the trees. “I’ll bet it came from up there,” he pointed upward.

Sam looked up, too. “I imagine so. There’s so much damage to the hood, it had to be from a pretty good height.”

“Damage?! That thing damaged my baby? Sonuvabitch! I’ll kill that bastard so hard, there won't be anything left for me to resurrect just to kill it again!”

Dean was getting so worked up that Sam feared he would hyperventilate. Sam tried to calm his brother down so he could bandage his hip. “It’ll be ok. We’ll get her all fixed up good as new. She was going to need some body work from the fall, anyway. It’s ok.” He handed Dean the flashlight. “Here, I need you to hold this again so I can get this done, and we can both get some sleep, huh?”

Dean snatched the proffered flashlight from his brother and aimed it at his hip. He sat in silent rage as Sam cleaned, medicated, and bandaged the wounds. Dean couldn’t wait to get his hands on that mountain lion. ‘That little bitch will be sorry he ever messed with a Winchester!’

“There, practically good as new.”

Sam’s voice brought a surprised Dean from his fuming, murderous thoughts. He’d had no idea that any time had passed and hadn’t felt Sam’s ministrations at all. Looking down at his neatly bandaged hip, he smiled at Sam. “Good job, Sammy! What do you say we get some sleep? I’m really tired all of a sudden.”

Sam shook his head at Dean giving his words back to him and held out his hand to help his brother get up, but Dean wasn’t having any of it.

“I got it, Sam; just give me a second.” He leaned to his left, putting his right hand on the ground and managing to get himself up. He pulled his jeans back up, slapped Sam on the shoulder, and headed to the Impala with Sam following along behind.

As Dean put his hand on the door handle, he felt a drop of rain on his head and looked up to see drops falling from the trees. Knowing he was going to be seeing that on the back of his eyelids for a little while, he opened the door and crawled into the front seat.

Both brothers laid there for a few moments as the rain increased, listening and relaxing to the rhythmic sound of it. The occasional flash of lightning cutting through the darkness. They could hear the hiss of the fire as the rain tried desperately to drown it, knowing it’d be out before long. It didn’t matter…they weren’t going anywhere this night and each knew the other was safe inside the car.

A few minutes later, both brothers were asleep. Outside in a tree above the car, red eyes glowed as a figure sat in the relative shelter of the branches watching the black car below. The creature was nothing if not patient. Its opportunity would come again.

Chapter Three

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Dean was miserable.  His hip hurt like someone had placed a hot poker on it, and his left arm was tingling painfully.  A low moan escaped from his lips as he tried to roll over and get more comfortable, but his knee banged into the steering wheel, jarring everything.

“Sonovabitch!”

“Dean?  You okay?” came a sleepy voice from the back seat.

“I’m fine.  Just trying to get a little more comfortable.”

“Not working, huh?”

“Not really.  How’re you doing?”  Dean decided to sit himself up and peered into the back seat at his little brother.

“Not bad.  Head still hurts, arm’s still broken, ankle’s still sprained. . . . but other than that, it’s all good.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah, good.”  He rested his chin on the back of the seat.  “We need to get out of here.”  He didn’t use Sam’s nickname, indicating his seriousness.  In the pre-dawn twilight, he couldn’t really read his little brother’s eyes, but saw him nod in agreement.

“I know,” Sam sighed as he once again closed his eyes.

“Sammy?” Dean leaned forward, trying to reach his brother’s prone form.

Sam partially opened his eyes but didn’t seem to be able to focus. “I’m just really tired, man.”

Dean peered at his brother in the lightening twilight, knowing that they’d have to get out of their situation soon or Sam was going to be in big trouble.

“You go back to sleep.  I’m going to check things outside, and then we’ll get ready to get out of here.  Okay?”

Sam nodded slightly as he closed his eyes.  Dean sat looking at him for a moment, worry evident on his face.  He put his forehead down on the back of the seat, rocking from side to side.  Not only was his brother sick, but they had that damned shapeshifter to worry about, too.  It was going to be a long day.

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Sam hated feeling like this.  He knew he had a concussion and that he should have taken it easier, but he just couldn’t.  Dean had needed his help.  He wasn’t going to be much help today, though, that was for sure.  He hoped he’d be able to walk under his own power.  If he’d had the energy, he’d have banged his fist into the seat.  It just wasn’t worth the effort, though.

He lay there looking at the ceiling of the Impala and tried to quell the nausea that was floating around rather insistently.  Sam hated concussions.  He knew if he actually heaved this time, it wasn’t going to be good.  He’d only had a power bar to eat, which meant dry heaves.  He put his right arm over his eyes in an attempt to ease the feeling and lay quietly.

Suddenly, he knew he was going to lose the battle.  He’d better get the door open or Dean would kill him for barfing in the car.  Sam’s flailing right hand caught the door handle and pushed it open; he pushed on the opposite door with his good left foot and managed to get himself pretty far outside before it hit.  As he tried to avoid lying on his broken arm, he lost what meager food was left in his stomach.  There was hardly any so what he lost was mostly slimy yellow bile that burned when it came up.

His stomach, angry that there was nothing left to give, kept trying nonetheless.  He didn’t know when it appeared, but Sam finally became aware of a soft voice and a gentle hand rubbing comforting circles on his back.  Another weaker hand was holding his forehead while his stomach tried to wrest itself from its assigned place in his body to see what the world was like outside.

As the retching began to subside and Sam began to spit, the hand released his forehead, but the soothing words and circles continued for another few moments.  Sam let his head drop.

“Shit!”

“Looks like you got rid of everything but that, Sammy.”

A bottle of water appeared in Sam’s line of sight.  He gratefully took a mouthful, swishing it around before spitting it out.

The back of his brother’s right hand landed gently on his forehead to check for fever.

“You’re a little warm, but not too bad.  It’s probably the concussion.  Do you think you can swallow a few sips?  You need to keep yourself hydrated.”

Sam nodded, and with Dean's help, worked himself into a semi-sitting position and began to sip.  He’d done this enough times before to know the drill.  Between sips, he rested his head on the back of the seat and closed his eyes.  The pain in his stomach was beginning to subside pretty well, letting him hope beyond hope not to have a repeat performance.

“Sammy?”

“Mmmmm?”

“You gonna be okay for a bit?”

Sam kept his eyes closed. “I think so.  Thanks.”  Opening his eyes and turning toward Dean, he looked at his brother.  “You moved your left arm.”

Dean gave a painful smirk.  “Yeah, but it hurts like a bitch and I don’t have much strength.  When that nerve released before, it must have done the trick.  It’s nice to have some movement, anyway.”

“That’s real good,” Sam sighed and rested his head back again.  At least something was going right.

Dean patted Sam’s knee and got up with a moan. “I’m gonna go back to work and get us ready to leave here, if you’re good.”

Sam didn’t open his eyes, but nodded, knowing that ‘big brother’ Dean was still looking at him carefully.

“Oh, and Sam?”

“Yeah?” eyes still closed.

“Thanks for makin’ it out of the car, man.”

This time it was Sam’s turn to smirk.

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Dean hadn’t been expecting his brother to throw up.  He’d been busy getting the things together they were going to need to take when they started moving.  His left arm, though painful, tingly, and weak, had begun to be somewhat useful during that task so he was accomplishing much more than he’d anticipated. 

So preoccupied was he with his task that he jumped when the squeak of a car door opening assaulted his ears.  He spun around in time to see his little brother’s head appear out the door and begin heaving.

‘Oh, crap,’ he thought as he ran to help.  He should have known this was a possibility with Sam’s concussion.  He shook his head in aggravation that his brother hadn’t taken better care of himself after his injury.  He said nothing about that as he began speaking softly and rubbing circles on Sam’s back, his newly almost-useful left hand even able to hold Sam’s forehead while he heaved.

When Sam was finally done, Dean sat on his haunches and studied him for a minute as he sipped water from the bottle.  They definitely had to get out of there.  He knew it and kept telling himself that just to reinforce it.

Leaving Sam to rest with the water and another power bar, Dean got back to work.  They were going to need some weapons with them, so that bag minus a few items needed to go.  Dean would carry that and leave the lighter food bag for his brother.  Dean’s ribs weren’t feeling wonderful, but he felt he was a lot better off than Sam was at this point. 

They were down to two bottles of water, so he took as many as he thought he could carry back and headed for the stream Sam had found.  The stream wasn’t hard to find; he just had to follow the sound.  He was pretty sure it’d be good water without chemicals since it was mountain water.  They’d use their other bottles first, though.  It looked clear and was cold when he put his hand in to fill the first bottle.  Suddenly thirsty, he gave in to the temptation and brought a hand full of the water to his lips and tasted.  It was good.  He took some more, really happy that something was working out for them.

He finished filling the bottles and headed back to the Impala and his brother, feeling much better about their chances with a good supply of fresh water. 

Back at the Impala, he added the water bottles to the supplies they were taking, put the things to be left behind in the trunk, and, satisfied that they were ready to go, began the task of getting his little brother up and moving.

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Sam woke again to his brother’s voice and something slapping him in the face.

“Dean?  What the hell?” He searched out his brother’s concerned face. 

Dean sighed and looked relieved. “I was having quite a time getting you to wake up, little brother.  You had me kind of worried there.  You okay?”

Sam took a quick inventory of himself and decided that wasn’t exactly the case, but he did feel a little better.  “Yeah, I’m okay.  Are we ready to go?”

The older brothers face relaxed more as he offered his hand to Sam. “Yep.  Let’s get you up out of there and hit the road, sort of.”

The young hunter took the proffered hand, holding on tightly until they managed to get him out of the car and balanced.  Dean gave Sam his Glock, which he put in the waistband of his jeans.  “Silver rounds?”

Dean nodded. “I’m thinking that shapeshifter is going to follow us and try again.”  He grinned, held up his .45, and stuck that in his own waistband.  “We’re ready this time, though.”

“What do you want me to carry?”

Dean handed him the ratty blanket containing the food, which Sam slipped over his shoulder, settling it comfortably.  “What else?”

Dean seemed to consider him carefully before handing him the better blanket. “You can carry this, too.  That way, if you fall on your ass, you’ll have something softer than the ground to land on.”

“Nice!  I’d better take some more pain killers before we head out.  Have you taken any lately?”

Dean nodded and handed Sam the bottle with the lid off.  Sam took two and swallowed from the water bottle his brother had given him before in the car.  He was aware of Dean’s eyes on him so he tried to appear as strong as he knew he was going to need to be.

“How’s the stomach?”

“’sgood.”

“Ankle?”

“Not good, but it’ll do.”

“Let’s hit the trail then.”

Sam followed closely after Dean, glad that he was bringing up the rear. 

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Dean wasn’t the least bit happy with their situation.  He knew Sam was hurting — more than he was admitting to, anyway.  Dean tried to set a pace that wouldn’t wear his brother out too much or too soon, himself either.  He planned frequent rest stops and plenty of nutrition.

They started walking along with the stream, figuring that it would go downhill and eventually lead them someplace where they could find help.  If they weren’t able to follow it for long, they’d keep going in the general direction of ‘down’.  After all, ‘down off the mountain’ is what they were aiming for.

Dean kept a sharp eye out for the mountain lion that had attacked him the night before, but nothing made an appearance.  Cougars were normally nocturnal but would come out in the daylight on any whim, especially if it were a shapeshifter.  They only knew it was because Sam’s regular rounds had not fazed it.  Dean knew his brother was a good shot, no matter how he felt.  The animal had been hit.

Walking at an easy pace, they covered quite a bit of ground.  Some areas became fairly clear of trees, while others were even thicker than the place where they’d left the Impala.  Dean believed that they’d start hearing the occasional vehicle from above them since the road had to be up there someplace.  Nothing could be heard, however.

Dean decided to stop and rest for Sam.  His own hip could use the rest, too; he was beginning to feel the claw gouges.  A time out for both of them seemed a very good idea.  He saw some likely boulders a little way ahead and turned to Sam to tell him his plan.  He was horrified to see the look on his brother’s face, however.  Sam was completely bedraggled.  They hadn’t been talking at all to save their breath and energy, but Sam looked ready to drop when Dean grabbed for him.

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Sam felt awful.  He knew he should say something, but they needed to be moving.  They needed to get out of there even though they had no idea how far it was to civilization.  He was glad they weren’t talking.  If they had been, he wouldn’t have gotten as far as he had.  As it was, he was about to ask Dean if they could stop when he saw his brother turn toward him.  Sam was so relieved that he almost went down, but Dean was suddenly beside him with his good arm around Sam’s waist.

“C’mon, Sammy.  We’re just going over by those boulders.  There’s sun there, and we can have a snack and rest a bit.  Okay?” 

Sam nodded as Dean gently moved him forward, avoiding any proximity to Sam’s broken arm.  When they reached the indicated boulders, Dean let go of his waist and stepped around into Sam’s line of sight.

“Let me have the pack.”

Sam nodded and feebly tried to help as Dean lifted the pack of food from his brother’s shoulder.

“Okay.  I’m not gonna ask you to dance; this is the only way I can think of to get you to the ground without hurting you.  Ready, Samantha?”

Again, Sam nodded and prepared to stick his right foot out and let Dean take most of his weight as he helped him down.

Resting back against the boulder, Sam closed his eyes. “Thanks.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”  Dean squatted down by his brother.

Without opening his eyes, Sam turned his head towards Dean’s voice. “You must have read my mind; you didn’t give me a chance.”  Now that he was seated and could let go for a bit, Sam felt more exhausted than he had before.

“You should have said something sooner.  I was watching for the shapeshifter and looking for the best ways to travel.  I trusted you to speak up.”  Dean reached out and put his hand on Sam’s right shoulder and squeezed it.  “What’s up?”

Tired hazel eyes looked into green eyes and then down.  Sam reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the power bar that Dean had left with him after he’d been sick.

“I forgot to eat it.  I didn’t remember until just a bit ago, but it was too late to do any good.  My stomach’s still a little queasy, I’m not hungry, and I didn’t think about eating.”

Dean looked at the familiar bar and back at his brother.  He wanted to scold him but knew there was no need.  Sam was suffering, and the important thing was to get him fed, rested and back to himself.  He lifted his hand from Sam’s shoulder and clapped it down again. “Eat it now — the whole bar — and I want you to drink a full bottle of water, okay?”

Sam nodded and tore the bar open with his teeth, taking a bite and putting his head back to rest on the boulder as he chewed.

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Dean rubbed his hand through his hair and flopped his head back against the rock, actually relishing the pain that caused.  Why hadn’t he turned to check on Sam?  He should have checked to make sure he was all right.  He’d heard Sam behind him but was concentrating on the way ahead and keeping an eye out for the cougar.  ‘Another screw-up, Winchester!  Almost let your brother pass out!  Way to go, dickweed!  Way to do your job!’

He turned and studied his brother’s profile.  Sam was resting and chewing, the bar almost gone.  Sam had always been healthy, recovering quickly from injuries and normal childhood illnesses.  Dean hoped he would this time, too.

Dean took out his own power bar and tore the wrapper from it, polished it off in three bites, and sucked down a bottle of water.  They needed to keep themselves hydrated.  Even though the air was cool, they were sweating from exertion.  The night would be cold if they had to stay outside again.  The cold was as hard on the body as sweating.

“Sammy?”

“Yeah?”

“We’ll stay here for a bit and rest.  Why don’t you try to get a little nap when you’re done?”

Sam opened his eyes and glared at his brother. “What the hell, Dean?  You think I’m weak and can’t go on?”

Dean raised his hands in a placating gesture, “No, I don’t think that, Sam.  I think you need to rest and I do, too.  I want you to take a little nap, to let your body absorb that bar.  I ate before we left, okay?  It has nothing to do with you being weak.”

Sam’s features softened at Dean’s words.  “Yeah, I really screwed up.  I have to admit, it does feel good to sit here.  The sun’s warm, and it won’t be hard to go to sleep.  Don’t let me sleep long, though, okay?”

Dean smiled at his victory. “Okay.  We’ll give it an hour.  How’s the ankle?”

“Sore.”

“Lie down, put your head on the blanket and your foot on the weapons bag.  I’ll wake you in an hour.”

Sam frowned at the direction but did as he was told.  In a very short time, he was breathing evenly and giving off soft snores.

Satisfied that his brother was really resting, Dean began to relax a little himself.  Placing his .45 at his side, he got a water bottle for himself.  That little problem taken care of, he just had to keep an eye out for that damned animal.  Holding the bottle in his hand, he settled in to keep watch.  He’d probably give the kid a couple of hours to nap.  Rubbing at his sore hip, he was sure he’d be able to stay awake with no trouble.  Dean hadn’t, however, counted on how tired he was himself.  In a short time, he was also gently snoring.

On the other side of the stream, a pair of golden eyes watched the brothers in their sleep.

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The mountain lion had been following the brothers as they headed down the mountain.  Its human part needed to complete this task so he could become a full-fledged shaman; its animal part needed to kill for food and in outrage.  The tall one had shot him, and even though the hits were not fatal, they hurt.  They hurt badly, and the animal wanted its revenge.

It lay in the camouflaging grass and studied the young men.  The tall one was sleeping soundly.  He was the weak one, his injuries keeping him from being fully able to defend himself.  The other one was the real problem.  Cougar had tried to kill him last night, but the tall one had unexpectedly interfered.  Cougar chided himself for being sloppy and underestimating the bond between these two men.  It was something he would have to keep in mind for the future.

Cougar’s human part smiled inwardly, knowing that the time would be right very soon.  With the men sleeping, he would take out the other one first, as he was the protector and strong of spirit.  His injuries were not as severe as the tall one’s were.  The tall one was exhausted, deep in sleep, and would not be able to react in time to save the other.

Cougar watched sniffing the air as the men slept.  Man’s scent changed in sleep.  The time was just about right.  Cougar twitched his ears to hear if there was any sound of other danger.  Hearing nothing untoward, he raised himself into a hunting crouch.  Concentrating completely on the two sleeping men — eyes never blinking, head down in stalking mode, body low to the ground — Cougar began to slowly move forward.  His body blended into the wild grasses perfectly as he moved one paw at a time and crept forward toward the stream.  His movements were absolutely silent and stealthy.  His animal part was allowed to consume him as he gave himself over to the hunt willingly.

Every few feet, he would stop completely and lower himself a little further as he listened for any unseen dangers, never taking his eyes from the sleeping men.  He finally came to the edge of the stream, hesitating only briefly as he looked at the stream bed to determine his path.  Satisfied that he was in a good spot for crossing, he stepped forward into the water, making no splash.  Each paw moved silently until he was at the edge of the stream.  Only a few feet separated him from his prey as he brought his haunches into pouncing position and made ready to leap.

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The sun was warm and felt so good on Dean’s face and body that the relaxation became complete.  As his fingers relaxed, the water bottle fell and dropped on his foot.  Startling instantly awake, Dean was horrified to see the cougar at the edge of the stream ready to pounce on them.  It seemed to be looking directly at him.

In the next second, several things happened at once.  Dean screamed his brother’s name; the cougar leaped the last few feet towards Dean; Sam rolled away from his brother; and Dean grabbed his .45 from beside him, pointed it at the animal while it was in mid-air and fired.  The cougar’s snarl was cut off mid scream, and it fell to the ground at Dean’s feet.  The silver round had struck it in the heart.

All was silent in the forest for several moments as the brothers processed what had just happened.  Dean sucked in great lungfuls of air and stared at the fallen animal at his feet.  The magnificent beast was lying with all four legs outstretched as if to the four winds.  Its head lolled to one side from the impact, tongue protruding from bared teeth.

Slowly, Dean managed to get his breathing under control and turned his head to look for Sam.  His little brother was struggling to sit up so Dean ran to help.

“What the hell, Dean?” Sam panted, face red and screwed up in pain and confusion.

Dean pointed his .45 to the dead cougar. “Shapeshifter jumped us.  I took care of it.”

Sam looked from his brother to the fallen animal and back again, eyes wide. “Cut it a little close there, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, well, I sort of dozed off” was Dean’s sheepish reply.  “I guess I was more tired than I thought.  If I hadn’t been startled awake, he would have gotten me.”

“But he didn’t.” Sam nodded, no blame in his voice for Dean’s lapse in diligence.

“No, he didn’t.” Dean smiled.  “You okay?  Did you hurt your arm when you rolled?”

Sam looked down at his broken arm.  “A little.”  He carefully placed his right hand underneath the arm and gently moved it to resettle inside his shirt.  He looked back up into his brother’s concerned emerald eyes.

“It’ll be okay,” he spoke assuredly.  “How about we move on down the trail a little bit?  I don’t think I want to stay here with that thing any longer.” Sam lifted his chin toward the dead cougar.

“No question, little brother.  I’m ready when you are!”

Dean helped Sam get the food and blanket resituated on his person, then they headed off in the downward direction once again.

Sam turned to look at the cougar one last time and then back at his brother.  He knew that Dean had lightning quick reflexes; they had saved both their lives a number of times.  But he’d been asleep when that cougar pounced.  He must have moved faster than he ever had before for his bullet to hit the shapeshifter exactly where it was needed.  Sam shook his head and followed after Dean.  His big brother was still his hero.

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The brothers were now walking on pure adrenalin and a desire to get as far away from the dead shapeshifter as they could.  Dean looked back from time to time to check on Sam who gave the thumbs up signal each time.  The next several rest periods were uneventful so that they felt safe taking turns with small siestas.  There were only a couple of power bars left, but they managed to find some late season berries to fill in the empty spaces in their stomachs.

When it really began to appear that they were going to have to spend the night outside, Dean began to look for a suitable place.

The older hunter turned to look at his brother as he began thinking about the approaching evening.  They’d made good progress and covered a lot of ground, but they were both suffering a little — or a lot, depending on who you talked to.  The ground was becoming less sloped.  The area made Dean think of making camp for the night.

“How’re ya doin’, little brother?”

“Tired and a little sore, but I can keep going for a while if we need to.”

“Nah, I’m thinking it’s time to stop for the night.  I’m tired, and I don’t think we should push ourselves if we don’t need to.”

Sam’s shoulders slumped a little while he smiled a very tired smile. “Stopping sounds wonderful.”

Dean returned the smile and turned back to study the location they were currently in, seeing an area not far away that they could utilize.  It was quite full of rocks, but those could be moved.  Some looked usable to build a fire circle while some kept close could be used for throwing at creatures that didn’t require the use of weapons.  Dean nodded to himself and then pointed the area out to Sam.

“What do you think, Sammy?  That looks pretty good to me.”

Sam looked where his brother was pointing and nodded. “Looks good, Dean.”

They walked side by side to the location and, without conversation, Dean helped Sam unload his pack and the blanket then lowered him down to the ground.  Dean put his own pack down and headed off to locate some kindling and firewood.

They were in a small clearing but surrounded by the forest, which would give them a good supply of firewood.  Not far from where he’d left Sam, Dean came across a dead tree and felt ridiculously happy about the find.  ‘I feel like I’ve won a friggin’ treasure hunt!’  The branches were a good size and still had twigs attached that could be used for the kindling.  Maybe their luck was about to change.  He picked a couple of the larger branches lying on the ground and headed back to the camp, very happy that his formerly useless left arm had finally decided to wake up and do its job. 

When he arrived, Sam already had a bunch of the stones in a good-sized circle around a shallow pit that he’d dug out for the fire.  Some of the other stones were piled over to the side for whatever use they determined necessary.  Sam continued to sort and move the stones while Dean took some of the needles that were still stuck to the twigs and put them down to use to start the fire.  They caught immediately when he struck a match.  He slowly added the twigs as the flames grew stronger.  Soon, there was a nice fire going.  Dean was breaking the branches by stomping on them.

When the fire was gently but solidly burning and chasing away the slight chill in the air, Dean sat down next to his brother and really looked at him. “Why don’t you lie down for a bit, Sam?  You need to get that foot up and try to get some of the swelling down.  There’s still some light left.  I’ll go get some more wood and get a supply for the night.”

Sam looked back at his brother with very tired eyes and almost smiled, but he was too tired. “Sounds good, Dean.”  He handed Dean the last of the salt for encircling the campsite.

Dean got up and positioned the weapons bag so Sam could lay his injured foot on it, giving him the blanket for his head. “Go to sleep, Sammy.  We’ve worked hard today, and we both deserve it.  I’ll keep an eye out for a while before I get more wood.”

Sam nodded and closed his eyes.  It didn’t take long before he was breathing evenly and slipped into sleep.

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Two hours earlier

In a tumble down cabin deep in the forest, an old man with wrinkled skin that resembled leather looked into the fire in the fireplace.  He began chanting as he reached into a pouch at his waist to take out some herbs to toss into the flames.  He didn’t pull back or even wince as the fire flared high, just continued his chanting and staring.  Soon, a vision of Cougar appeared, sprawled on the ground in death.

The old man strengthened the chanting and threw more herbs on the fire.  The vision changed and he saw two young men: one tall and obviously sick and the other one not as sick, but not completely well either.  It was this last one that he watched kill Cougar.

The chant changed to a song of mourning as the old man raised his arms, leaned his head back, and cried to the heavens for the loss of his young student.  The old man was a shaman and had been training Cougar to take his rightful place as the tribe’s official shaman.  The old man’s time on this earth was coming to an end.  He was at peace with that, but now his people would have no shaman to take his place.  He cried to the Great Spirit to accept the spirit of Cougar and to give him peace.

Looking back into the flames, he changed his song back to a chant and saw the young men leave the place where Cougar lay in death and head down the mountain.  He roared with anger.  Suddenly, his skin began to take on the appearance of fur, his limbs became feline with sharp claws, and he stood on all fours.  His head changed and his eyes went from dark brown to deep gold.

He rejoiced in the change, relished in the feeling of strength and power that this change gave him.  He gave a mighty roar, leaped out the door of the old cabin, and headed toward the place where he knew that Cougar lay.  He arrived at his destination quickly, moving with all the stealth and speed of his long experience in this form.  There was Cougar, just as he’d seen in the vision — dead.

The old man raised his nose and opened his mouth to sniff the air, his mighty teeth showing.  He walked around the body of his student and sniffed every area that he came across where there was a hint of the two men.  He looked in the direction the two men had gone marking their scent in his memory.  He knew them now, and made a vow to find them and mete out his vengeance.

His angry growl carried far on the damp mountain air.

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Present

Dean was resting next to Sam, listening to his soft snores and taking comfort in the sound.  His head lay on his knees while he was trying to decide if they’d have the power bars tonight or skip the evening meal in favor of breakfast.  The berries they’d been eating weren’t quite doing the job for either of them, but they’d been better than nothing.

Hearing a slight rustle, he looked up, scanning the area until he found the source of the sound.  A rabbit was eating close to the stream and doing little hops as it moved from area to area, looking for food and nibbling on what he found. 

Suddenly, both man and rabbit looked up the mountain as there was a distant roar of a mountain lion.

“Sonuvabitch!  Is there another one?”  Dean kept listening, but turned his gaze back to the rabbit.  It had returned to its foraging, seeming unconcerned.  Dean again glanced back the way they’d come, but decided the mountain lion was too far distant to worry about at this moment.  Food — real food — was the more urgent concern.

Dean slowly moved his hand down to the knife in his right boot until his finger grasped the hilt firmly.  The rabbit calmly continued on its quest for food while Dean waited patiently for it to come closer.  It did.  He was only going to get one chance and he knew it, so he tried to let it come as close as possible, hoping for that chance.

Finally, the rabbit was close enough, but was facing in Dean’s general direction.  Dean willed the little animal to turn away so he could make his strike.  Suddenly, the rabbit did turn away.  Dean pulled the knife from his boot and threw it with deadly accuracy, striking the unsuspecting rabbit behind its head and severing the spinal cord.

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Sam was dreaming.  He had to be.  He smelled meat cooking, and it was one of the most wonderful smells in the world.  They didn’t have any meat to cook.  All they had were two power bars and a few of Dean’s peanut M&Ms, so this couldn’t be real.  Sam sighed as he inhaled the fragrance and vowed to have a huge steak when they got back to civilization.  His stomach growled; that was weird, because he’d never had his stomach growl in a dream before.

Deciding to open his eyes and see if he really was asleep when sounds of a campfire and his brother humming began to sink in, Sam looked toward the source of his hallucination.  There was Dean, holding a stick over a fire with had meat on it…At least, it looked like meat.

“Dean?”

“Hey, Sammy!  Hungry?”

“Is that meat?”

“Yep.  A kindly rabbit walked into camp, said that it’d heard that we were hungry and wanted to offer itself as our next meal.  Smells good, huh?”  Dean looked at Sam with a delighted grin.

“It sure does.”  Sam sat up and scooted closer to the fire and the tantalizing smell.  His stomach was roaring now.  “Is it about ready?”

Dean pulled a piece of meat off and juggled it as he blew to try and cool it off to an edible temperature.  He put it in his mouth, chewing blissfully.  “I think it’s dinner time, Sammy.”

Sam leaned forward in anticipation as Dean placed the cooked rabbit on a large rock and cut chunks off with his knife.  Sam accepted the piece that was offered to him and tried not to be crude and shove the whole thing in his mouth.  He failed miserably. 

Trying to speak around his mouthful of rabbit, Sam finally was able to swallow a little.  “This, big brother, is better than sex.”  As soon as he said it, he wanted the words back.

“How would you know?”

“Yeah, nice, Dean.” Sam gave his brother a rude salute and took the next piece of meat that was offered. 

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Dean was sitting fairly close to the fire but keeping his eyes away from the bright flame.  He didn’t want his night vision to be ruined.  He hadn’t told Sam about the lion roar that he’d heard before killing the rabbit, but knew that Sam had been vigilant when he took the first watch of the night.  His little brother wasn’t stupid and knew that anything could be out there in the dark.

It’d been a peaceful night.  Dean had actually been able to fall asleep quickly with a satisfied stomach and a wide-awake brother on guard.  When Sam woke him for his turn at watch, Dean was rested and ready to go, both brothers having learned to get real rest when they were able to do so.  No opportunity went unutilized.  As the sky began to lighten a little in the east, Dean stood and allowed his body to really stretch and work out the kinks that had naturally occurred over the nighttime hours.  His left arm and hand were just about back to normal, which meant that he’d be better able to protect Sam if need be.  The pain in his ribs was a dull throb, but the pain from the cougar’s claws was a little sharper.  He’d have to ask Sam to look at that.  Maybe.

Dean walked the perimeter of their camp, noting the wards they’d put out and the still intact circle of salt, regretting that the salt was now all gone.  ‘Nuts.  We’re getting out of here today.’  He was sure of it…absolutely!

Deciding to get an early start on the day, Dean went over to his sleeping brother.  Sam looked too peaceful to wake up.  He stood and watched his little brother sleep for a few moments, thinking about the baby he’d more or less raised to become the man sleeping before him.  He thought of the sacrifices he’d made for his little brother and never once thought they’d been made in vain.  Every one of them would be repeated without hesitation if it would help Sam.  A smile tilted the edges of his lips upward…and then he shook himself out of what was becoming embarrassingly close to a ‘chick flick moment’.

“Sam.  Sammy?  C’mon, dude, wake up.  We should get a move on.  The sun’ll be up soon, and we need to get to civilization today.”  Dean squatted down next to Sam and gave his good arm a shake.

Sam snorted awake and looked around in confusion.  Dean smirked and gave his brother a chance to orient himself before trying to hold any conversation.  His amusement soon turned to laughter as Sam spoke.

“I guess I was dreaming.  I thought we were in a nice hotel.”

“Not hardly, Sammy.  I wouldn’t exactly call these luxury accommodations.”  Dean waved his arm around indicating their surroundings.  “Although, we do have the best the forest has to offer.  We had a hot meal last night, and a soft bed of pine needles to sleep on.  Did you sleep well, Princess?”

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Sam scowled at his brother.  Sometimes Dean could really be a jerk, but Jerk Dean was better than No Dean to Sam.  Looking toward the east and seeing the much lighter sky in that direction, Sam nodded and accepted the hand that was offered to help him get up from the forest floor.

Breakfast was a brief affair with no coffee to make and nothing to eat but a couple of power bars.  There was plenty of water, of which they drank their fill and did some abbreviated morning ablutions in the mountain stream.  Neither brother shaved.

Sam sat on the largest boulder next to the fire, munching on his power bar, and studied his brother.  Sam’s head was still pounding.  He knew that his own crankiness was due to his concussion, but Dean hadn’t seemed to be very worried about him for a while now, and the younger brother was wondering why.  He finally couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Dean?”

“Uh, huh?”

“Do you love me?”

His brother stopped chewing and sat perfectly still. 

A few seconds passed and Sam began to wonder what his brother’s answer would be.  Maybe Sam had been too much trouble since the accident.  Maybe Dean was tired of taking care of him.  Maybe Dean would rather go on ahead and leave Sam here.  Why was he sitting so still?  Maybe he really didn’t care anymore.

Sam was about to open his mouth and ask again when Dean began to turn and look at him.

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Dean sat on the ground next to the fire enjoying the warmth after the briskness of the water.  He liked this time of morning, but he’d never let Sam know that.  He had an image to maintain of being cranky in the morning.  He also liked to sleep in. 

He was also enjoying the outdoors for the first time since their little excursion began.  He just knew they’d find the highway today, then they’d catch a ride to the nearest town and get his baby out of trouble.  He’d also get Sam checked out by a doctor — that was the first order of business, for sure.  Dean was worried about the concussion, and although Sam hadn’t been acting too strangely, Dean knew that could change in a heartbeat.  They’d both had a number of head injuries in their line of work.  The effects could be different for each person.

“Dean?”

“Uh, huh?”

“Do you love me?”

Dean stopped chewing on his power bar and sat perfectly still, shocked by the question and not knowing exactly how to answer it.  His mind was spinning almost out of control.  ‘What the Hell?’  Finally, sensing Sam was about to speak again, Dean turned to look at his brother, studying him carefully and looking for obvious signs of injury or distress.  Not finding any blood or any new bruises or bumps, Dean spoke slowly and hesitantly. “Sammy, are you okay?”

“I don’t know, Dean.  I’m just feeling a little ignored here, and I’m thinking that you don’t care anymore.  I know I’ve been a burden to you my whole life.  You’ve always been there for me, and I’m grateful, but…”

Dean watched carefully as Sam spoke.  When his brother’s hazel eyes looked up into his, Dean saw that Sam was about to cry.  ‘Crap!  What’s this all about?’

Dean rose from his seat on the ground and moved over to sit on the boulder next to his little brother.  Putting his hand on Sam’s chin, Dean turned his face toward his own and looked closely at Sam’s pupils.  Not happy with what he saw, Dean shook his head.  It was the concussion talking.  He was going to have to play along for a bit.  ‘Crap!’

Dean raised his left arm with only a slight wince and put it across Sam’s shoulders.  The tingling went away almost immediately.  At least something was going right for the elder Winchester.

“Sam, you’re not a burden.  You’ve never been a burden.  You’re my little brother.”  Dean took a deep breath.  “And…of course, I love you.”

Sam sniffed and shook his head.  “I know I’m a burden, Dean.  If it weren’t for me, you could have had a regular life and done some great things.  I ruined all of that.”

Dean allowed himself an eyeroll before giving Sam a gentle shake with the arm around his shoulders. “You’ve never been a burden, Sammy…never.  Stop thinking like that!  There’s never been anyone I’d rather hang out with than you.”

Sam seemed to think about this and nodded once again.

“Do we need to get going right away?”

“Not if you’re not ready to go.  I pushed you out of sleep this morning, and you must have needed to sleep some more.  We can rest a while longer.  Just let me know when you feel like going, okay?  I know we’ll find the highway today.  Why don’t we sit down off of this boulder and lean back against it, huh?  It’ll be more comfortable.”

Dean maneuvered Sam down to the ground, and then got the blanket to cover him with.  The fire had been dying down, but Dean threw some more wood on it.  It caught immediately.  Soon, both brothers were sound asleep, their shoulders leaned together and their heads back against the boulder.

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Sam awoke with a start, surprised that they were still in camp and that he’d been covered with the blanket.  He was pretty sure he remembered Dean waking him up.  They needed to get going.  Looking to his right, he was even more surprised to see Dean asleep and leaning up against him.

Sam gave his brother a shove with his shoulder. “Dude!  Dean, wake up!”

Dean startled awake and looked around them. “What’s going on?”

“That’s what I was wondering.  You woke me early and said that we needed to get going, but we apparently had a change of plans.” Sam motioned around them with his good arm.  “We’re still here.  What happened?”

Sam watched his older brother, who seemed to be a little disoriented too, but was managing to pull himself together. “Dean?  You okay?”

“Yeah, I am.  I think we fell asleep, Sammy.  You don’t remember?”

“No, I don’t, but someone covered me up with the blanket.”

“Huh!  A drive-by blanketing?  Strange stuff in this forest.”

Sam shook his head; the pain seemed a little better than it was earlier. “Well, are we leaving or what?”

Dean nodded. “Yep, let’s move.”

Sam got to his feet, and in so doing had a flash of Dean sitting with his arm around Sam’s shoulders.  ‘That’s weird.’  He shook it off and took the pack that Dean offered him, falling into step behind his brother.

Chapter Four

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They were so relieved to find the highway that Dean almost got himself run over by a car that had picked up speed on the somewhat level straightaway.  At the sound of the car’s horn and his brother’s shouted warning, he was able to jump out of the way at the last minute.  He made a rude gesture at the retreating vehicle and walked over to where Sam was leaning one-legged against a tree.

“Not going to do much good to have found the highway if we can’t get anyone to stop for us,” Dean scowled.

Sam nodded, squinting up at the sky. “At least it’s not raining or snowing; there’s bound to be someone who'll stop.”

“Optimist,” Dean grumbled.  “Don’t go ruining a perfectly good grump session.”

Sam gave his brother a slight grin.  Dean wasn’t fooled, though.  He knew Sam knew what was happening.  Dean was relieved at finally finding the highway and wanted it all just ended already.  The older man was becoming impatient, and an impatient Dean was a grumpy Dean.  Sam looked confident, though.  Dean always marveled at Sam’s ability to put up with so much and keep it together when Dean might not.  He reasoned, however, that his own impatience at this point was due to both the fact they were so close and that Sam was in so much pain.  He hated when his little brother was in pain.  He dealt with it when it was necessary, keeping Sammy calm, reassuring him that everything would be all right.  At this point, however, he was sure it wouldn’t be anywhere near all right if no one stopped for them soon.  That other mountain lion he had heard was still out there; Sam was hurting, he was hurting, and his baby was hurting (none of that necessarily in order of importance).  They needed to get out of this forest and back to civilization.

Dean suddenly perked up as he heard the faint sound of a large vehicle coming down the road.  As it came around the curve, he stepped forward and hailed the driver.  Sam hung back a little.

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It had to be a semi, didn’t it?  It just had to be.  Sam thumped the tree he was leaning against in frustration as the driver slowed the big rig in response to Dean’s waving.  He watched as his brother stepped up to the driver’s side and spoke to the trucker.  In a moment, he was coming back around the front, motioning Sam to come on over.  Sam had to admit that he was relieved to be getting a ride.  This whole thing had been awful; he knew they needed help.

Carefully putting on a happy face for the others’ benefits, Sam stepped forward as Dean came to pick up their bags.  He reached down to pick up his own bundle, but his big brother stopped him. “I got it, Sammy.  I’ll help you into the truck, then come back for the rest, okay?”

A little irritated but grateful at the same time, the younger man nodded and began hobbling toward the truck.  Dean reached in front of him, pulled open the door, and turned toward Sam.

“Up you go, little brother.”

Sam had to smile at his now very happy big brother; a huge grin had replaced the formerly grumpy expression.  He stepped up to the cab, gingerly putting his weight on his bad ankle so his good leg could do the work of lifting him into the truck.  Dean stood behind him to help him balance. 

The driver made a sound, drawing Sam's attention to him out of the corner of his eye.  He turned to look at him, expecting to see him leaning out to offer a hand.   Instead, he found that the face was bearded and the voice was gravelly and deep.  When Sam looked at his eyes, they were black.

Sam’s reaction was immediate.  He pulled back, which caused him to lose his balance, falling back against Dean, who lost his own balance, falling back on the soft leafy shoulder with his brother mostly on top of him.

“Sam, dude, what the hell?”

“I’m sorry.  Are you okay?”

“I think so, except for that whole having Sasquatch on top of me thing.  What happened?  Are you okay?  How’s your arm?”

“It’s okay.  I’m okay.”

“What happened, Sam?”

“Dude, the driver…!”

“What about him?  He’s going to give us a lift.”

“When I looked at him, he had the face of the driver of the semi that hit us.  His eyes were black, and he talked like him, too!”

“Are you sure?”

Both brothers looked up at the sound of the voice coming around the front of the cab. “You boys okay?”

The two of them looked at the driver, at each other, and back to the driver again.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Dean spoke for both of them.  “Sam slipped and lost his balance is all.  His ankle’s pretty sore; we’ve walked a long way.”

The driver came right over, offering Sam his hand to help him up.  Sam looked at him carefully.  The driver’s face didn’t look the same as it did in the cab; his eyes were light blue and full of concern instead of cold and black.  Glancing at Dean and safety, Sam cautiously accepted the offer of assistance.

They made it to the cab of the truck so that, with coordinated pushing and pulling from the driver and Dean, Sam was able to get inside and situated in the middle of the seat.  In the mirrors, he watched his brother trot to their packs and hurry back toward the cab of the truck.  Sam felt a huge surge of relief as Dean scrambled in next to him, placing their packs at their feet.  As the driver swung himself up and landed behind the wheel, Sam couldn’t help but feel a little nervous, unconsciously moving a little closer to Dean.

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Dean was somewhat worried about Sam.  He knew the physical drain of his brother’s injuries would be enough to mess up anyone, but he seemed to be a little over the top about this driver.  On the other hand, Dean trusted Sam completely and had never been let down by his little brother’s instincts, eventually learning to rely on them over the years.  He’d definitely keep an eye on this driver to make sure that he wasn’t some weirdo and wouldn’t let him hurt Sam, but Dean didn’t really think the guy was anything other than what he seemed.

“You boys all set?”

At Dean and Sam’s nods, the driver threw the gear shifter into first and let off on the clutch.  The big rig shook a little as it responded to his command, beginning to move on down the road.

“By the way, my name’s Joe.”  He held out his hand to Sam and then Dean.

“Sam,” the younger man nodded as he took the driver’s hand.

“Dean,” said the elder brother with a smile and nod. “We sure do appreciate you picking us up, Joe.  Several cars have driven right on by us.  I know we look like we’ve been in the woods for a few days.  We probably look like a couple of crazy people.”

“You boys been hiking and camping?” Joe looked a little wide-eyed at Dean.

“Not intentionally.  My car slipped on an icy spot, went over the edge into some trees.  We’ve been trying to get out for two or three days.  Sam, here, got hurt worse than I did in the accident; we’ve had a bitch of a time.”

“I guess you have.”  Joe looked with sympathy at both of them.  “You just relax and enjoy the ride, boys.  We’ll be in town in no time at all.”

“Thanks, Joe,” the brothers spoke in unison.

“No problem at all, fellas.  Glad to help.”  Joe turned back to his driving.

Dean stiffened as he thought he heard a big cat roar, but realizing that it wouldn’t be able to catch the truck, he relaxed against the door, noticing that Sam was able to let go of some of his apprehension, too.  No need to mention it to his brother; Sam needed to relax and get well.

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Puma could barely contain his anger, letting out a mighty roar as he watched the big truck take away the tall man and the killer.  Knowing the truck couldn’t be caught up to even in this strong form, he paced back and forth to wear off some of his rage, sniffing and growling as the truck disappeared.

He had tracked the men, knowing that they’d end up at this road and would try to catch a ride from someone.  The trail had been alternately rough-going and easy-going, with some of the land heavily wooded and some clear.  He’d taken shortcuts where he could, hoping to come upon them before they reached the road.  The last shortcut he’d taken had been slightly misjudged so that he’d come upon the road further up from his prey. 

The hunt had been hard on Puma, even in this form.  He was very tired.  He’d hoped to jump and disable the killer of his student, then take his time with the weaker one while the killer watched.  Puma had seen how the killer had cared for the younger man.  Revenge would have been sweet.

With one last chuff in the direction the truck had taken, Puma slowly walked back into the forest.  He needed to find a place to rest and think.  He also needed food.  After he’d rested, he would hunt.  Then he would think of a way to get his revenge on the killer and the one he cared for.  The spirits would show him the way.

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Joe had been right: the trip to town took no time at all.  It could barely have been ten, fifteen minutes.

“Joe, do you know if there’s a hospital or clinic here in town?  We really need to get Sam looked at as soon as possible.”

The trucker glanced over at Dean and then at Sam sagging against his brother. “There’s a small hospital on the other side of town; I’ll take you there.  I have to go that way, anyway.”

“How close can you get us in this rig?”  Dean worried about Sam having to walk very far after the trek of the last few days since a hospital parking lot was not configured to maneuver an eighteen-wheeler.  He also didn’t want to just leave his brother at the side of the road to run to the hospital for help.

“I can get you real close, Dean.  I’ve made deliveries to that hospital before.  They have a nice loading dock in the back.  There’s a button by the door; someone will come to open it, and you’re in.”

Dean nearly collapsed from the relief of that worry.  Sam was going to get some help at last.  He looked at Sam’s dragging form and put his hand on his little brother’s forehead.  The younger man leaned into the touch, mumbling something that sounded a little like ‘Dean’.

“Sam?”

“Mmmmm?”

“We’re going to the hospital.  You'll be getting the royal treatment from the loading docks.  Okay?  You with me, Sammy?”  Dean tried to get his brother to open his eyes.

The golden flecks in Sam’s green eyes glittered with pain as they locked onto his brother’s. “I’m here, Dean.  Loading docks.  Good.  We there?”  Sam tried to focus on their surroundings as a look of confusion appeared on his face.

“We’ll be there in just a few minutes, Sammy.  We’re still in the semi, but Joe knows right where to go.  Can you stay awake for me now?  We’re going to be getting out in a bit.”

“’m really tired.”

“I know, but you need to stay awake right now.  Look.”  Dean pointed out the windshield as they made a turn onto the approach to the hospital.  “There it is.  We’re here, and we’ll get you some help.  Okay?”

Sam followed the direction Dean was pointing and breathed a sigh of relief himself.  “A bed!”

“Yeah.  You’ll get to sleep in a bed tonight.  We’ll get to eat something besides power bars, too, although hospital food isn’t much to talk about.”

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Joe expertly brought the big truck around to the back of the hospital, parking it perfectly up against the loading dock that he’d used so many times before. 

“You boys stay put.  I’ll get some help.”  Joe jumped down from the cab, ran to the building and rang the bell next to the door.  The door didn’t go up soon enough for his liking, so he leaned on the bell until he heard someone press the button to open the big door.

“Joe?  What the hell are you doing?  You aren’t supposed to be here today, and you never lean on the bell like that.  What’s so damned important?”

“Bill, thank God!  I picked up a couple of guys on the road out of the mountain.  This was the only way to get them to the hospital.  Can you call someone, please?”

Bill picked up the phone next to the door and dialed some numbers. “There’s two of them?  How bad?”

“One keeps being woozy, seems to have a broken arm and a bad ankle.  The other one is better but has sore ribs.”

Bill nodded and spoke into the phone. After a brief conversation, he told Joe, “Okay, there’ll be some help down here in a minute.  Let’s go see what you’ve got.”

The desk clerk jumped down from the dock as he and Joe headed up to the passenger side of the cab where Dean had the door open, talking to his brother to try to get him to stay awake.

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Dean was walking next to the wheelchair his brother was riding in.  A wheelchair had been brought for him, too, but he refused it.  There was nothing wrong with his legs, and he wanted to be closer to Sam.

They’d said their goodbyes to Joe; Dean had thanked him profusely for his help.  The older hunter was now certain that what Sam had seen in this kindly man was a result of his head injury.  There was no way Joe was a demon.  Dean smiled, but it was tinged with worry over his brother’s condition.  He noticed Sam trying to focus on where they were, looking at the doors as they passed by them.

Suddenly, Sam froze in the chair and turned to Dean with a panicked look in his eyes.  “It’s the Morgue, Dean!  Please don’t let them put me in there!  I’m not dead!  Am I?”  Sam grabbed for Dean’s arm, gripping it with more strength than Dean thought he’d have after their adventure.

Startled, Dean stopped the chair and took hold of his brother’s hand on his arm. “No, Sammy, you’re not dead.  It’s okay.  We’re just passing by.  We came in the back way, remember?  We have to go this way to get to the ER so the doc can take a look at you.  Okay?  I promise we’re not going in there.”

Sam’s uneven pupils searched his brother’s eyes and found only truth there.  “Okay.”  He released his grip and then immediately tightened it again, speaking in a low tone, “Are you going to come back down here to salt and burn the bodies?  It’d probably be best.”

Dean blinked at his brother’s question. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Sammy.  These people died of natural causes, okay?  No salt and burn needed.  Let’s get you to the doc.”  He patted Sam’s hand as he rose to walk beside him again.  Sam’s question would have been funny if it weren’t so worrying. 

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Puma had not eaten well and was angry.  Tired from the hunt, he’d decided to rest a bit before finding food.  His rest had been fitful, however, so he’d tried to catch food instead.  Unfortunately, his body was so worn out that he was too weak to catch the rabbit or the birds that had been nearby.  He knew there was only one thing to do: he had to change back to his human form to forage for food that his body could tolerate.

The exhausted animal lay down on his side as the change began.  He’d chanted the ritual in his mind to help the process along, knowing that the longer it took, the harder it would be on him.  As the change back to his human form became complete, Shaman closed his eyes, praying for the strength to get up and find food.

Finally, he was able to rise up and search for berries, nuts, and wild vegetables.  He found the best the forest could offer, which he gobbled greedily.  He didn’t even enjoy the flavors on his tongue. He needed to get them to his stomach, and that was all that mattered.  As the time passed and he began to feel a little better, he was able to gather sticks for a fire.  He knew he’d have to stay in his human form until the full benefit of the food had been realized.  His puma form would not tolerate it.

Naked, he needed the fire for warmth.  He stared into the fire, chanting and raising his hands in supplication to the Great Spirit to be allowed to see the men he sought.  He begged to be allowed to seek his revenge upon them.  Suddenly, the firelight changed, and he saw the big truck at the hospital.  Changing scenes again, he was shown the big black car with Killer and another man there.

Shaman bowed to the Great Spirit, singing his song of gratitude for the visions that he’d been shown.  He added more fuel to the fire knowing that he’d be able to rest, to do what was needed when he awoke.  He’d be able to find Killer, and Cougar would be avenged.  He lay down, going into a peaceful sleep.

When he awoke he was able to change back to his powerful form, but he wasn’t at full strength. He was angry.  He’d gotten the rest he’d needed, feeling probably strong enough to find some better food to help him on his journey.  He would return to the area of the car.  He would rest.  He would eat and get stronger as he waited for Killer to come.

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Dean was sitting in the waiting room of the ER, tossing his cell phone from hand to hand.  He’d been x-rayed, poked, and prodded before his ribs had been rewrapped and served up with some mild painkillers.  He had to admit he felt better, having had proper wrapping applied to his bruised ribs.  He chuckled at the memory of him and Sam clumsily getting him into the rib belt in the forest.  He’d been allowed to see Sam before they took him off for a CAT scan or some other tests.  His little brother was a mess, and Dean was frankly glad to relinquish his care to professionals for the time being.  Dean wasn’t going anywhere, by any means, but he’d done what he could for his brother.  The doctor had promised to notify him when Sam was back.  Dean had a call to make.

He flipped open his cell and scrolled through the numbers until he found the one he was looking for.  He pushed the Send button and held the phone to his ear, smiling as a gruff voice answered on the other end. “Hey, Bobby!”

“Dean!  How ya doin’, boy?” Bobby spoke with delight at hearing from the elder Winchester brother.  “What’ve you boys been up to?  It’s been a while.”

“Well, that’s sort of why I’m calling …”

“Are you all right?  Where are you?  Spit it out!”  Bobby’s voice was now harsh with concern for the young hunters.  He had felt the weight of responsibility for them since John died and was instantly ready to help however he could.

Dean sighed, “We had an accident.  We were driving in the mountains, hit a slick spot and went off the side into some trees.  It was quite a drop.”  Dean ran his hand through his hair as he proceeded to fill Bobby in on the events of the last few days.  It felt good to talk to the older hunter.  Both brothers had sort of taken to looking up to him as a father figure.  “So that’s mostly it.  The Impala’s still down there.  I wasn’t able to start her, and there’s no way to drive her out anyway.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow, Dean.”  Sounds of Bobby getting his stuff together could be heard over the phone, causing Dean to breathe a sigh of relief.  “What’s the name of the town you’re in, boy?”

“We’re at Good Shepherd Hospital in Good Hope, Colorado.  I’m pretty sure they’re going to admit Sammy, so this is where I’ll be.  As soon as I know about a room and such, I’ll give you a call.  Thanks, Bobby.  Again.”

“Nonsense, Dean.  It’s what family’s for.  You just hang tight.  I should be there by breakfast.”

Dean closed the phone, dropping it in his shirt pocket as he rested his head in his hands.  Sometimes he just wanted to let go and let someone else take care of things.  He was so tired.

“I’m telling you, rock salt works the best!” Sam’s voice came from back inside the exam rooms.  Dean got up and headed that way to be met by the doctor, who’d been coming for him.

“How’s my brother, Doc?”

Dr. Edwards gave a slight frown as he turned to walk Dean back to the exam rooms. “As you probably heard, your brother’s a little confused.  Not unusual in a concussed state.  Has he had a concussion before?  His x-ray showed a healed skull fracture.”

“Yeah, a few years ago.  He loved to play soccer and got kicked in the head a time or two.  He was a little loopy then, too.”  The cover story came easily to Dean.

Dr. Edwards nodded, turning to some films on the lighted box. “The old fracture is here, and this is a new hairline fracture.  I don’t believe it’s serious enough to warrant surgery at this point, but we definitely need to admit him for observation in light of his other injuries.  The ankle is definitely sprained; he’s apparently abused it a great deal since the injury.”  The doc looked over his reading glasses at Dean, who nodded sadly.

“We had to walk out of the forest after the accident.  There was just no other way.  I couldn’t leave him out there alone, not with the cold and the rain.  And the wild animals.”

Dr. Edwards nodded sympathetically. “You did the right thing, though, in not removing his boot; a very wise move.  Now, his broken arm: the bone doesn’t appear out of alignment, and with what you’ve told me, that’s nothing short of a miracle in itself.  It does look like the ends have been rubbing a little, but no errant bone fragments show up on the films.  We’ll put a temporary cast on until the swelling goes down and then set a more permanent one.  I have to say, Mr. Wilson, that you’ve taken very good care of your brother under the circumstances.  He should make a full recovery.  Have you had medical training?”

“No, our dad was a Marine.  He taught us everything he could about field medicine.”

“He was a wise man.  Would you like to see your brother, sit with him while we get the cast on his arm?”

“Thank you very much, Dr. Edwards.”  Dean couldn’t help but latch onto the man’s praise of his father as they walked back to Sam’s area where his injured sibling was extolling the virtues of rock salt over the regular table salt a civilian might use for getting rid of spirits.

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Bobby Singer stepped quietly into Sam’s hospital room, not at all surprised at the sight before him.  Sam was asleep in the hospital bed with the various machines attached and making their quiet sounds.  Dean was asleep in a chair next to Sam’s bed with his hand resting on his brother's good arm.  The younger man's face was turned toward his brother, like he knew he was there and would see him first when he opened his eyes.  ‘He probably does know,’ Bobby thought.  Both young men looked like crap, and just because it was what he’d expected, it didn’t keep it from hurting him right where only family in pain could hurt him.

Taking a deep breath, Bobby headed over to Dean, gently putting his hand on the sleeping man’s shoulder, and spoke softly. “Dean”.

The sleeping man jumped up, on alert in an instant.  It took only a second to recognize Bobby, however.  The family friend had his hands up in a peaceful sign.  Dean allowed his head to fall onto his chest as he caught his breath.  He moved around the chair, pulling Bobby into a tight embrace.

“How ya doin’, boy?”  Bobby managed to get out, even though he felt crushed by the strength of Dean’s hug.

Dean pulled back, clapping Bobby on the shoulder. “I’m fine, Bobby.  Sam’s hurt, though.”

“I can see that.  What’s the doctor say?”

“That he’ll be alright, but he has to stay here for a couple of days.  He’s got a really bad concussion.  He seemed to get worse about the time we found the highway.  He’d had a few symptoms, but he’s been hallucinating, wanting me to salt and burn the bodies in the morgue, and telling the ER docs to use rock salt instead of table salt to get rid of spirits.”

Bobby’s eyes bugged for a moment, then he laughed.  “Thank God he’s concussed if he’s gonna talk like that!  At least, nobody’s gonna believe him.”

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle along with the older man.  It was good to laugh. “Damn, it’s good to see you, Bobby.  Thanks so much for coming.” 

Bobby was pulled into an unheard of, for Dean, second hug and just went with it.  He’d learned a long time ago to take what he could get from the Winchesters.  The boys had been demonstrative as little guys, but it grew less frequent as they grew older.  He’d missed it.

“Okay.  I brought the big tow truck.  From the way you talked on the phone, getting the Impala out is going to be quite a job.  Can you take me to where she is?”

“Yeah, in a little bit.  It’s just about time to wake Sam up to go through the question routine.  If he’s a little more lucid, we’ll go.  He’ll understand when I tell him where we’re going and that I’ll be back.  He’ll be glad to see you, too.”  Dean grinned.

Bobby nodded. “In that case, I’ll go find a room at whatever motel you’re staying at…” He looked at Dean. “But then, you’re staying here, aren’t you?”

Dean smiled and nodded. “Until Sam’s released.  The staff keeps telling me about a motel just a few blocks on up the road, though.  It’s supposed to be clean and reasonable.  A change for hunters, huh?”

“That’s where I’ll go, then.  I’ll go take care of that and be back in a bit.”

When Bobby left the room, he turned to look back at the brothers.  Dean was already back in his chair with his hand on Sam’s good wrist.  Sam gave a contented sigh.

‘Amazing,’ Bobby thought as he headed to the truck.

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An hour later, Bobby returned to Sam’s room to find both boys awake and talking quietly.  Sam noticed him first, giving him a big grin.

“Bobby, it’s so good to see you.” He held out his good hand as Bobby walked over to take it.  Sam didn’t pull him into a hug as Dean had, but Bobby understood.

“It’s good to see you awake, boy!” Bobby’s voice was a little deeper than usual; he had to clear his throat.  He glanced at Dean, who was positively beaming, and then back at Sam.

“So I take it you’re feeling a little better?”

“Yes, I am.  Still have a ways to go, though.  There’re still times when the world is a weird place, even for us.  But Doc said that should go away quickly now.  Still just really tired.  My ankle hurts a lot, and my arm, but the drugs are good here.”  Sam made a face as Dean waggled his eyebrows.

Bobby couldn’t have been happier.  Things were looking up in Winchester World, which also meant they were looking up in Singer World.

“So are you ready to show me where the Impala is, Dean?  I need to get the lay of the land; might have to do some figurin’.”

“Sure am, Bobby.  I’ll be back in a while, okay?”  Dean laid his hand on Sam’s knee and looked in his brother’s eyes.  “You'll be okay while I’m gone?”

The question earned Dean an eyeroll from his little brother and a weak shove.

“I’ll be fine.  I’m ready to go back to sleep, anyway.  Go see what you can do for the Impala.”

The two older hunters walked to the door where Dean looked back at his brother once more. “It shouldn’t take long, Sammy.”

Sam drew down the corners of his mouth glaring at Dean. “Just go, already!  I’m a big boy!”

They went.

Sam sighed as he laid his head back on his pillow, using his good hand to push the button to lower the bed.  In a few seconds, he was sound asleep.

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The two men stood looking over the ledge where Dean had indicated that he’d lost control of the Impala and they’d gone over. 

Bobby pushed his hat back on his head and gave a low whistle. “Judging by how far we’ve come up this mountain, you boys dropped a long way.”

“It took a long time to walk out of here, and from the ground down there, these trees look really tall.  Sammy went out of the passenger window as we started to roll in mid air; I couldn’t catch him.  He ended up in one of these trees with the injuries you saw.” Dean’s voice caught as he remembered the visual of that event.  “He really could have died, Bobby.”

Bobby put his hand on Dean’s shoulder as the younger man wiped viciously at his eyes.

“He didn’t, though.  You both lived through it, and you got out of here.  Sam’s going to be fine.”

Dean nodded, flashing his old friend a small smile. “So what do you think?  Can we get her out?”

“Not from here, I’m afraid.  We’ve got to drive around to see if there’s a closer way to get where she is.  Let’s go.”

They took one last look over the side of the road and headed back to the tow truck.  Bobby shook his head in wonder.  Winchester luck was usually all bad.  Not this time.

As they made their way down the mountain road, Dean turned to Bobby. “Did you bring silver cartridges?”

“Of course.  I always have them with me.  Why?”

Dean ran a hand through his short spiky hair and down his face.  “I don’t remember if I told you about the shapeshifter.”

Bobby’s head jerked in the young hunter's direction.

“Guess not.  I’m sorry, man.  I don’t know whether I’m coming or going right now.”

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Bobby had pulled the truck to the side of the road to listen intently as Dean recounted the events with the shapeshifter.  As the younger hunter finished his tale, the older man sat and stared at him for a moment.

“My god, son!  That’s the most incredible story I’ve ever heard.  You’re sure there’s another one out here?”

“I’m not sure, no.  But I heard another big cat.  They’re solitary creatures, don’t mate for life, and the last roar I heard sounded angry.  I’ve just got a feeling.  We know the first one was because Sam shot it twice with regular rounds at point blank range.  He just pissed it off.  I don’t know why there’d be more than one, unless they have conventions or something.”

The older hunter chuckled.  “I doubt that, but one could be a master and one a student going for his ‘degree’ or whatever they do.  The student has to pass some tests before he can be a full-fledged shaman to his people.” He pulled the big tow truck back onto the road.  “We’ll be ready for whatever comes up.  Just have to watch each other's backs like any other hunt.  Don’t worry.”

Relaxing as his old friend spoke, Dean smiled and felt safe for the first time in several days.  Bobby was the only person besides his dad and Sam that made him feel that way.  He relaxed back into the seat to watch the scenery go by.

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Puma watched the two men with interest.  Killer had brought an older man with him.  Killer was a dangerous man, but this older man smelled of many deaths.  There was an air of confidence and experience around him that set Puma’s fur on end.  He’d definitely have to be careful of the old one.

As the truck drove away, Puma headed to where he knew the car would be.  There would be a time for their confrontation.  He was sure of that.

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Puma lay on his back in the sun.  He’d eaten very well that morning.  His strength was returning. It was good to lie there waiting for his prey to come to him.  His sleepy eyes blinked lazily as he listened to the insects buzzing around in the sun’s rays.  He had beseeched his spirit guide last night in the campfire while he was in human form.  He’d been told to shift back to Puma and remain in that form until he’d killed his prey.  They’d be coming soon.

Remaining on his back, magnificent paws relaxed in the air, Puma twisted slightly to get a better look at the place where Killer’s car awaited his return.  Areas were bathed in the sunlight Puma was enjoying while other areas were in shadow from the tall trees close by.  Cougar’s scent was everywhere, but growing weaker.  Puma had a pang of loss to think that he’d never see his young student again on this plane.  He knew his own time on this plane was short, but he would see Cougar in the Great Beyond.

The comfort of that thought soothed his sorrow.  He relaxed again, closing his eyes against the bright sun.  He needed to be able to see into the shadows as well.  He suddenly flipped over into a crouch, fully alert at the sound of voices close by.  His heart beat faster as he recognized the voices of Killer and Old Hunter.  They were coming.

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“I hear the stream over this way.  I think the Impala should be over there,” Dean gestured with his hands and headed in the last direction he’d indicated.  Sure enough, within a few minutes, they came upon their camp and the Impala.

“Hi, baby!  I’m sorry we had to leave you out here all by yourself.  I promise that’ll never happen again.  You saved our lives!”  Dean patted the car, continuing to coo to her while Bobby looked her over.

Finally coming to stand next to the still fussing Dean, Bobby cocked an eyebrow. “Do we need to get you two a room of your own at the motel?”

“Hey, don’t hurt her feelings.  She did the best she could!”

“Yeah, well, she did suffer for it.  She’s not drivable, but that’s why I brought the flat bed.  We’ll get her up on there and give her a nice ride back to my place.  You boys come there, and all three of you can stay until you’re all healed up.  I think there might be a round about way to get in here with the truck, too.  Let’s follow this space in the trees and see where it comes out.”

The sun had moved well into its downward arc before they were back at the truck, but Bobby was sure that once he had the daylight working for him he could back it in to where the Impala was with Dean’s help in directing him through the tight spots.

“We should come back in the morning, Dean.  I’m sure we can do this, but I don’t want to hurry.  We’d have to if we tried it now.  It’ll be dark in a couple of hours.”

“Sounds fine.  I want to get back to the hospital and check on Sam, anyway.”

Golden eyes glinted in the forest as the men moved away.  They would return.

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Sam was glowering at his dinner tray when Dean and Bobby returned.  He looked up as the two men entered and motioned to Dean. “You’ve got to get me some food, man.  This is horrible.”  Sam indicated the unidentifiable pile on his place.

Dean huffed, “Trust me, Sammy, the cafeteria food is only slightly better and expensive to boot.”

Bobby took a look at the pile on Sam’s plate and moved toward the door. “I’ll be back in a little while with something edible.  Dean, you get rid of whatever that is.”  He hurried down the hall, mumbling something about ‘getting well’ and ‘slop’.  When he got to the front door, it didn’t open fast enough for him so that he nearly went through the glass.  That brought another round of mumbles that could not be repeated in polite company.

True to his word, he was back in short order with some burgers, fries, and milkshakes “to help those bones mend”.

Dean put Sam’s empty tray in the hall and shut the door so they wouldn’t be disturbed.  Soon, they were all enjoying the fruits of Bobby’s efforts, the Winchesters acting like they hadn’t eaten anything in days.  When Bobby asked what Dean had done with the food on the tray, Dean didn’t speak around his mouth full of burger, but indicated the restroom behind him.

“Good choice,” Bobby nodded.

The rest of the evening passed with companionable conversation.  Sam drifted in and out of sleep, but enjoyed the times he was awake.  Finally, Bobby stood and stretched.

“I’m gonna head on over to the motel and grab some shut eye.  Why don’t you come, too, Dean?  There’re two beds, and you could get a good night’s sleep.”

“You should go, Dean.  I’ll be fine tonight.  You need rest, too.”

“Nope, I’ll stay here.  You two can just shut up about it.  There’s a shower in the rest room, and this chair’s really pretty comfortable.”

Sam and Bobby looked at each other and then at Dean.  Dean had his agreeable face on, but his body language said he wasn’t going anywhere.

Bobby adjusted his cap. “Okay, then.  I’ll be here about 8:30 a.m., and we’ll head on out.”

“I’ll be ready.” Dean walked to the door with their friend. “Thanks again, man.”

“No problem.  See you in the morning.”

A little while later, the Winchesters were sound asleep, Sam’s face toward his older brother and Dean with his hand on Sam’s good wrist.

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Puma was excited.  The men were returning; Killer and Old Hunter were coming with the big truck.  He chuffed quietly as he crept through the forest to where the sound of their voices and the truck were.  He sniffed the air, relishing the scent of his prey.  Killer would soon be dead, and Puma would have avenged Cougar’s death.  He nearly purred with happiness.

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The following morning found Bobby and Dean once again on the not-a-road that took them to the opening of the forest.  Dean got out of the cab after Bobby turned the truck around so that he’d be backing into the forest.  There’d be no turning around in there, so this was the only way to get the flat bed to the Impala and get her up on it.

“Bobby!  Hold up a second.”  Dean trotted up to the cab on the driver’s side.  “You got your automatic with the silver bullets handy?”

“Sure do.” The older man held it up.  “Don’t leave home without it.”

“Yeah, you said that.”  Dean chuckled.  “I’ve got a feeling it’s here.  I don’t know why, but I feel like there’s a target on my back.  The hairs on the back of my neck are standing up.”

“Hunters’ instincts.  You’re the one in the most danger out there, son.  Ride on the bed of the truck to direct me.  I can hear you through this sliding window.  If something comes after you, I’ve got your back.”

Dean nodded and did as he was instructed, keeping a careful eye around the trees as he did so.

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Puma watched.  Puma waited.  Puma moved as the big truck moved.  He watched Killer direct Old Hunter in the moving of the truck through the trees.  As they got closer to the old car, Puma saw that his chance was coming.  Killer would be busy and Old Hunter would be busy.  It would be then that he would strike.  Alert, he watched every movement the two men made.  It would be very soon.

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Bobby had been right about it taking a long time.  It would have been slow going under the best of circumstances, but these were not the best.  The forest floor was wet and soft; the tires wanted to bog down quite a few times.  Dean was kept busy moving from side to side at the tight places to keep Bobby from hitting trees and ‘wrecking the wrecker’.  It took three hours, but they were finally able to see the Impala.  Another half hour brought them up to her.

“Man, Bobby, that’s some real driving!”

“Yeah, well, you been doin’ this as long as I have, you learn how to do a thing or two.  Couldn’ta done it without you directin’ me through the tight spots, though.”

Bobby had thought ahead to bring them some lunch, so they sat and ate in the cab to be safe.  It didn’t take long, though, before Dean was ready to move.  He wanted to get the Impala out of there and back to Bobby’s.

The loading process took an hour with both men fussing over where the chains should be placed on the muscle car to do the least amount of damage to her.  Words were exchanged in anger and frustration, each knowing the other would not take offense.  When they were finally ready to hook the car up, Dean kept watch while Bobby did the actual work.

He’d seen the old truck work on many occasions, but he never tired of watching.  So mesmerized was he that he momentarily forgot that he was supposed to be keeping a look out for the shifter.  He didn’t hear the slight rustle of grass, nor the low growl as the animal made a leap at him, jumping on his back and taking him to the ground.

Dean’s cry brought Bobby around suddenly.  He let go of the dead man switch, pulling out his pistol trying to get a bead on the big cat, but Dean and the cat were rolling too much.  The old hunter couldn’t get a clean shot.  Dean’s cries tore at the older man’s heart.

“Dammit, Dean, lay still.  I can’t get a clean shot!”

“Aaahhh!  Bobby!  Shoot it!”

“Hold still!  Let me get a shot!” Bobby growled in frustration.

“Shoot it!  Bobby!  Help me!”

Unable to stand it any longer, Bobby took aim and fired across the big cat’s shoulders, leaving a streak of blood and causing the cat to release his prey to run off into the trees with an angry roar. 

Bobby ran to the younger man as he lay unmoving on the ground.

“Dean!  Are you all right, boy?”  Sliding to a stop on his knees, he pressed shaking fingers to the injured man’s neck, giving a huge sigh of relief when a pulse was felt.  It was strong, but way too fast, which was not surprising considering what had just happened.

Patting Dean’s cheek to try to bring him back to the world of the awake, Bobby surveyed the injuries that had been acquired.  There were scratches on Dean’s cheek, blood on his shoulder and back.  Bobby needed to get the young hunter’s jacket and shirts off so he could see how extensive the injuries were, but the stubborn Winchester wouldn’t cooperate.

Picking the younger man up to rest in his arm, Bobby patted his cheek grabbing his chin to give him a little shake.  “Dean!  Come on back, boy.  Please!  Sam’ll never forgive me if I bring you back dead!”

Hearing his brother’s name seemed to bring Dean around a little.  He moaned and rolled his head from side to side in an effort to fight his way back to the surface.

“That’s it, Dean.  You can do it.  Nap time's over.”

Slits of green began to appear as eyelids opened and closed with the effort of coming to.  Dean struggled to the surface, finally rewarding Bobby with wide open eyes.

“Sammy?”

“No, son, it’s me.  Sam’s safe at the hospital remember?”

Dean frowned as he tried to process the information and figure out what had happened. “Dude, are you hugging me?”

Bobby laughed.  “You scared the hell out of me!  I picked you up to make sure you’d come to.  How’d that cat get you from behind?”

“Cat?”  A vision of a fluffy house cat flitted briefly through Dean’s mind then disappeared as the events of the previous few minutes came rushing back to him.  He struggled to sit up with the older man’s help.  “God, Bobby.  It was the shifter, wasn’t it?” He didn’t see Bobby’s nod, knowing what the answer would be.  “I’m such a freakin’ idiot!”  He pounded on his knee in anger and frustration.  “Did you kill it?”

“No, I didn’t.  I’m sorry.  I couldn’t get a clean shot with the two of you rolling around.  Winged it, though.  Cut a slice across its shoulders.  He’ll be hurting for a while.  Give us enough time to get the car loaded up and get out of here.  I need to look at you to see where all that blood’s coming from, too.”

Getting up from the ground, Dean shook his head.  “I’m fine.  Let’s just get the car and get out of here.”  He pulled his arm away as Bobby reached to steady him.

The older man also stood, shaking his head.  ‘Stubborn bastard!’

The feat was finally accomplished, leaving the two men exhausted as they climbed back in the cab to head out of the forest and back to town.  The trip out was much easier, with Dean only having to get out to direct on a couple of occasions.  He bit his bottom lip to keep from crying out, but couldn’t completely keep silent.  Bobby knew the young man was in pain, but didn’t say anything, knowing he’d be rebuffed.  They both agreed it was good to see the ‘not-a-road’ and then the actual highway.

“We’re going to stop at the motel so I can get a look at you.  You need those injuries treated.”

“I’m fine.  Let’s just get some food and get up to Sam’s room.”

“Look, that wasn’t a request.  Nor was it open for discussion.  We’re stopping to get you fixed up.  You don’t want Sam to see you like this, do you?”

Dean sighed and shook his head.  He knew the older hunter was right.

“Good.  I’ve got some clothes you can put on.  We’ll tell Sam you fell in the stream.”  Bobby smirked at the look on the younger man’s face at his comment.

After Dean’s injuries were treated, his clothes changed, and painkillers swallowed, the two men went through a drive-thru for food to take up to Sam’s room.  They were determined to be prepared this time.  Dean unnecessarily swore Bobby to secrecy regarding his injuries as they walked down the hall to the youngest Winchester's room.

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In the forest, Puma raged his pain and frustration.  Killer would not get away from him, but he needed to heal.  He would go back to the old cabin.  He would pray and sing and get stronger.  His spirit guide would lead him to the young men.

Chapter Five

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The Next Morning

Dean paced around Sam’s room like a caged tiger.  From the safety of his hospital bed, Sam watched his brother for a few minutes, noting that there was something off in the way the older man held himself as he paced. 

“Dean, are you all right?  You seem to be holding yourself funny today.  And will you please stop the pacing?  They’re going to add new flooring to the hospital bill.”

“I’m fine.  The doctor said you could go home this morning.  What the hell’s taking him so long?”  The last part was said facing the door in a loud, frustrated voice.

“Shhhh, there are sick people here, you know. Besides, he said I could probably go home this morning, if all my tests came back fine.  Give the guy a break.  We got him to agree to allow the clinic by Bobby’s to put the regular cast on when the swelling’s gone, and the tests were only taken a while ago.  Look, I’m dressed and ready to go.  We're out the door as soon as he says 'go', but we still have to wait, unless you want me to leave AMA and take a chance.”

Sam knew that was a cheap shot.  Dean would not pull him out of the hospital AMA unless there was a serious threat to his safety in the hospital.  No such danger existed here.

Dean dropped his chin on his chest, admitting defeat.  He just wanted to leave this whole mess behind. “No, we’re not taking you out AMA.  We can wait a little longer, I guess.  I’m just anxious to get on the road and head towards Bobby’s.”

“I know you are, but it won’t be long.  We can’t leave without Bobby, anyway.  The Impala doesn’t run, and he has it up on his truck even if it did.  Just sit down for a while, okay?  I don’t want to have to come over there and sit you down.” Sam grinned.

Dean looked at his little brother sitting on the bed with his bandaged ankle, temporary cast on his broken arm, and the small bandage on his head.  He looked really pathetic, but Dean grinned at him. “Oh, yeah?  You and what army?”

“Hey, there’s an army of nurses here that will gang up on you.”

“Really?  Where are they?”  The older hunter went to look out the door, which earned him an eyeroll from the younger man.  Coming back into the room, he flopped in his chair, managing the action with only the slightest of grimaces.  “You’re right, Sam.  We’re going to be sitting a long time in the truck, so I probably shouldn’t be in such a hurry to get into it.  The shocks on that beast really suck.”

“What’d you say about my truck?” an angry voice said from behind Dean.  “Seems to me that beast got your baby out of a pretty bad situation yesterday.  I’d think he’d have earned a little respect, boy!”

Dean jumped, turning to face the angry voice surprised to see a smile on the face of the family friend.  He sagged in relief.  “I’m sorry.  I’m just restless and really want to get out of here.  I wish I could be calm and patient like you guys are, but…”  Dean ran a hand through his hair as he shook his head.

Bobby clapped him on the shoulder, “Not a problem.  I understand.  I was only teasin’ ya’.  How you doin’ this mornin’, Sam?”

Sam was chuckling softly. “I’m good, Bobby.  We’re just waiting for the doc to release me.  He shouldn’t be much longer, but some people are way too impatient.”  Sam smirked at his brother.

“Sitting down now.” Dean plopped back into the chair crossing his arms over his chest in a classic pout.

The other two men couldn’t help but laugh.

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Puma made it back to the old cabin in a bedraggled condition.  He had to stay in his present form to make the journey.  His human form would not have been strong enough.  Collapsing as he came through the front door, the exhausted animal lay panting in an attempt to get control of his pain.  As he lay on the dirty floor, he sang his song of grief -- grief for the loss of his student, and grief for the loss of his prey.  He knew he needed to get this emotion out for good so that he could get on with getting his body healed if he was going to get his prey.

As the song finished, he began his chant to change back to his human form, knowing the pain would be far greater in that form.  He needed his human hands to treat his wounds, however.  As the change began, Puma moaned with the increased pain.  When it completed, it took all he had to breathe through the pain to keep from crying out.

Gaining control, he managed to get up to put wood in the fireplace.  He got the fire going, then moved to his collection of herbs to make a paste for his injury.  Into the bowl, he mixed together some aloe vera, Brier Rose, geranium, lemon grass, and marjoram for their antiseptic qualities, along with peppermint for its anesthetic quality. It caused him great pain, but Shaman moved to the fire for comfort.  He sang a song of supplication to the Great Spirit that his wound would heal as he carefully applied the poultice as best he could to the burning gouge across his shoulders.

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Dr. O’Brien came into Sam’s room with his eyes on the clipboard in his hand.  Momentarily, he looked up to see three sets of expectant eyes looking at him. He smiled as he put the clipboard under his arm, looking over his glasses at the men before him.  “A little anxious to leave?  Is our company here that bad?”

The doctor had been assigned to Sam after he was admitted from the ER.  He looked like a country doctor, except for the long gray braid going down his back.  He had a wonderful sense of humor and twinkling blue eyes.  Dean had taken to him immediately, as did Sam after he woke up.  Dean and the doctor had taken to trading smart ass remarks and were enjoying each other’s company enormously.

Dean spoke up first. “No, doc, the company’s fine, but the food here really sucks.”

Dr. O’Brien grimaced. “I’m afraid I have to agree with you on that score.  I know hospital food is notoriously bad, but it’s worse here.  I always either bring my lunch or run out for something.” He turned to Sam. “So, young man, let’s have a look at you.”

Sam sat up straight to let the doctor examine him, cooperating fully.  When the exam was finished, the doctor sat on the bed next to Sam.

“Okay, time to talk straight.”

All three men looked at him, completely ready to hear and absorb what he had to say.

“I said you could probably go home today, depending on what the tests showed this morning.  All the tests came back fine.”

There was a collective sigh of relief.

“But!”

All eyes turned back to the doctor.

“My exam here shows that you’re still having problems with your concussion.  Does your head hurt, Sam?”

“Not bad right now, doc, but I know it’s still there.”

Dr. O’Brien nodded. “Okay, I saw from your films that you’ve had a fractured skull in the past, and there would have been a concussion along with that, right?”

“Right.”  The brothers spoke in unison.

“Okay.  So, I’m guessing you remember how that was.”

“Yes, sir.”  Again in unison.

“Good.  You’re going to have headaches to varying degrees for a while, Sam.  You also might experience some more episodes of disorientation, but if you behave yourself and follow instructions, we should be able to keep those to a minimum.  You must promise me that if you do not continue to improve, you will get yourself looked at.  Can you do that?”

“Absolutely,” Dean answered.

Bobby spoke up. “No need to worry none about that, doc.  These boys are goin’ home with me, and I’ll make damn sure he behaves himself.”

“Thank you, Mr. Singer.  That being the case, I’m going to go ahead and release you this morning, Sam.  The nurse is already filling out the paperwork and should be in here with it momentarily.”

“Thanks, doc!” both brothers said at once.

Dr. O’Brien leaned back with a happy smile on his face. “Saved another one.”

Dean leaned forward and pumped the doctor’s hand. “You really did, doc.  I was worried for my brother when we got here, but his care has been outstanding.  We’re not used to being in once place for too long, especially not in a hospital.  But you can be sure that Sam will follow your instructions to the letter.  When do you think he’ll be ready for the regular cast?”

Dr. O’Brien seemed to consider as he carefully picked up Sam’s broken arm to examine his fingers.  “I’d say another day or two is all.  The swelling’s going down quite nicely, considering what you two have been through.  I’d like to see that cast on as soon as possible.  It’s obvious that you’re active young men.  It should be properly protected for your day to day living, I expect.”

The nurse appeared in the doorway to hand the doctor the clipboard.

“Okay, here we go.  Your instructions are written on this page, and these are prescriptions to be filled.  You’ll have to be careful taking the painkillers for a while, Sam.  By the time your head’s better, the pain in your arm should be much less, but I’m giving these to you just in case.  Read these instructions and sign here.”

Sam did as he was told with Dean looking over his shoulder.  The younger man handed the clipboard back to the doctor as he glared at his brother.

“Good luck, boys.  Stop back and see me when you’re in the area -- just for a visit, though, okay?”  The doctor knew he was going to miss these young men.  There was definitely something special about them.

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Dean let his gaze wander out the passenger side window of the big truck as they rumbled down the road.  It’d been about an hour since they had left the hospital.  The conversation had lagged until it finally ceased all together.  Dean was content to ride in silence for a while thinking his own thoughts about the last few days.  His injuries from the puma were making him stiff, but Bobby had done an excellent job of patching him up.  Painkillers would hopefully keep Sam from finding out about it at all.

Finally noticing a pressure on his left shoulder, he looked to find Sam losing his battle with sleep.  His little brother’s head was falling over onto Dean’s shoulder.  Each time it touched something Sam would jerk his head up, but it would slowly fall over again.  Dean watched this in amusement for a few seconds before he took pity on the younger man.  The next time Sam’s head began to slide over, Dean guided it down to rest against his shoulder.

“It’s okay, Sammy.  Just go to sleep.”

Sam relaxed and settled into a slumber.

“How long do you think, Bobby?”

Bobby looked over at Dean, smiling as he noticed Sam’s sleeping position.  “That’s cozy.”

“Yeah, yeah.  How long?”

“We’ll need to stop for regular meals and let you boys walk around a bit, make sure that Sam’s okay ‘n all, so I figure we should be to the yard about eight tonight.  How’re you holdin’ up?”

“I’m fine,” Dean answered, leaning his head back against the seat.  ‘It’ll be good to get home,’ he thought to himself, surprised as he realized what he was thinking.  Bobby’s had been the closest thing to a home besides Pastor Jim’s that the boys had ever had, so it wasn’t too surprising that he’d thought that.  He began to realize how tired he was himself; in a few seconds, the cab of the truck was filled with the soft snores of exhausted young Winchesters.

Bobby took it as a complete compliment that the boys felt safe enough to both fall asleep and not keep any kind of a watch.  He knew they’d done that with their daddy, but no one else.  One or the other always seemed to be awake, not making a big deal of it, just awake.

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Dean awoke at a change in the speed of the truck and some increased bounciness in the springs.  Looking around, he found Sam waking up and Bobby pulling into a diner’s parking lot.

“Ready for some grub, boys?”  Bobby asked as he killed the engine at the same time as opening the driver’s door.

“Yes, sir!” the brothers said in unison.  Dean opened the door and eased himself down, then turned to give Sam whatever assistance he would need.  Soon, all three hunters were looking at the menu -- Dean with glee, Sam with a question mark above his head, and Bobby with gluttony on his mind.

When the waitress came back with their drink orders, Dean ordered a burger with extra onions and fries, Sam ordered the cob salad with house dressing, and Bobby ordered a huge steak with mashed potatoes and gravy.  With a special smile for Bobby, the forty-something waitress left to turn in their orders.

Dean winked at Bobby, then looked around.  The sun was well over the peak of its arc in the sky, so they’d been traveling for a while. “How long we been drivin’, Bobby?”

“’Bout three hours or so.  You boys looked so comfy that I hated to disturb you.”

“Thanks for that,” Sam said with a smile as his big brother snorted.  “I guess getting out of the hospital today was more exhausting than I thought it would be.”

“How’s your head, Sammy?” Dean looked at his little brother casually to hide the concern he was feeling.

“It’s good.  No headache.  I’m feeling reality, so for now, all’s well.”  The youngest Winchester was happy to make the report.

The three men enjoyed casual conversation for a while, then got down to business when the waitress brought their food orders.  All three were completely satisfied when the meal was finished.  Bobby paid the bill, leaving a generous tip on the table as he winked at the now-blushing waitress.

Outside, Dean stretched, wincing at the pull on his ribs as well as the cat bites.  Around a hiss, he said to Bobby, “Want me to drive for a while?  I’ve had a nice nap.”  He hoped Sam hadn’t noticed his cringe.

“Nah!  That old steering’ll pull on your ribs.  You just ride and I’ll be fine.  Keep that freaky brother of yours off my shoulder.  I don’t care if he sleeps on yours, but he’d better stay away from mine.  I’m drivin’ an’ don’t need no cuddlin’.”

Stretching stops at a rest area and for dinner found them on the last leg of their journey.

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Puma was moving.  He’d had a fire, chewed some plant to bring on a vision, and seen the truck hauling Killer, Old Hunter, and the younger one.  They were going to Old Hunter’s home where lots of junk cars were stored.  Puma smiled within as he thought of the conditions at Old Hunter’s dwelling.  There would be plenty of places to hide, lying in wait for just the right moment to attack.

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“Dean, wake up, boy.”

Bobby’s gravelly voice brought Dean out of a sleep he didn’t realize he’d fallen into.  He found himself leaning over onto the window of the passenger door with Sam dominoing over onto his shoulder.

“Hey, come on, Sasquatch.  Wake up already.  We’re pulling into Bobby’s.”

Sam shook himself awake as he sat up straight.  Both brothers peered out the windshield where it was now dark outside; the high beams of the headlights were all that lit their way.  Bobby had let them sleep until he pulled off the highway onto the gravel road that led to his junkyard.

The big truck pulled up to the gate and stopped.  Dean, feigning stiffness from sleep, gingerly got out, opened the gate, and grabbed Ajax, who was so excited to see Dean, the truck, and whoever else was in it that he could barely contain himself.  Ajax was a great watchdog and no one -- no one -- got into the yard that he didn’t know.  Folks around the area knew to call Bobby first and tell him they were coming so that Ajax didn’t eat them.  The young Rottweiler was totally devoted to Bobby and fiercely protective of what he saw as his area of responsibility.

Bobby pulled the truck through the gate and Dean closed it afterward.  The truck continued up to the side of the house with Dean coming along with Ajax.  The dog was jumping and bumping while Dean was talking to him, laughing, clapping his hands, and increasing the animal’s excitement.  Dean cringed from the pain the animal's antics were causing, but was actually happy to see that Ajax remembered him and was excited to see him.  It’d been a good six months since he and Sam had been to Bobby’s.  Over the years, the brothers had had to content themselves with whatever dogs Bobby or Pastor Jim had.  Their lifestyle did not allow for pets.

Sam was getting out of the truck watching the pair approach with a smile on his face.  His big brother was just a big kid, and Sam enjoyed watching him play.  The youngest Winchester frowned at yet another indication that Dean was in more pain than he should be.  He’d been noticing the older man trying to hide his discomfort but kept quiet, hoping Dean would talk to him about it.  Sam decided he could wait for that only a little longer.

When Ajax realized that Sam was there, too, he greeted him with the same enthusiasm he had shown Dean.  Both brothers laughed happily at their friend.

“Ajax!”

At the sound of his master’s voice, Ajax ran around to the other side of the truck to sit in front of Bobby with his nose pointed at Bobby’s face.  He was alert and ready for the next command.

“Good boy, Ajax!”  Bobby leaned down and rubbed the dog’s ears, and got a doggy kiss for his efforts.  “Ajax, patrol!”

Ajax immediately took off to make his rounds of the yard.  He’d come back to the house and be let in when he was done.

“Go on inside and get yer brother settled.  I’ll grab yer bags.  We’ll get the Impala down in the mornin’.”

“Let me give you a hand, Bobby,” Dean offered, but Bobby’s glare brought him up short.

“I didn’t ask for no help, Dean.”

“No, sir!” Dean took Sam by the arm and headed into the house.  This grumpiness was one thing that Bobby had in common with John Winchester.  The brothers knew there was no getting around him when he was in this mode.

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Sam awoke the next morning to the smell of coffee brewing and the sound of Bobby’s voice talking to Ajax.  Sam stretched his long frame in the bed he’d slept in off and on since he was a small boy and took a physical inventory of himself.  He knew where he was and who he was, so that was good.  His ankle had been bothering him a lot after the long ride, but that was feeling better this morning -- another good thing.  The pain in his left arm had not diminished yet, so he was going to have to break down and take some of those painkillers the doc had prescribed, which was a good thing as he also definitely had a headache this morning.

Rolling over onto his side to check on Dean, Sam was happy to see his brother still asleep in one of his infamous pretzel imitations.  Sam sat himself up, managing to get out of the bed as quietly as he could, hoping to let his brother sleep a little longer.  Dean stirred at the sound of rustling sheets, but didn’t waken.  This was one of the few places that they didn’t always have to be on alert, being completely able to relax.  In almost any other location, Dean would have awakened at the minimal sound of Sam stretching.

Successfully making it out of the room without waking his brother, Sam closed the door and headed to the kitchen.  There he found a slightly less grumpy Bobby and a happily panting Ajax.  He’d apparently made his morning patrol with nothing out of the ordinary to report and was now waiting for Bobby to give him a treat.  He looked at Sam briefly, but didn’t move.  He kept his eyes on Bobby.

“Morning, Bobby.  Hey, Ajax!”

“Breakfast’ll be ready in a few minutes.  Coffee?”

“Thanks.”  Sam held out the cup that was in front of him, which Bobby filled to the top.

“That brother of yours still asleep?”

Sam nodded as he sipped his coffee.

“Think he’s gonna sleep all day?  We gotta get the Impala down from the truck and take a good look at ‘er.”

Sam shook his head. “Nah, I think he’ll be out here pretty soon, especially when he smells the bacon cooking.  You know he can’t resist grease.”

Bobby snorted. “That’s fer dern sure.  I’m surprised he’s not out here already.”

“He’ll be out in a bit, I’m sure.  I don’t think he’s gotten much rest in the last few days, and this is the only place he feels safe enough to let go.”

“Let go of what?”

Sam was startled by the sleepy voice behind him for a second, then grinned at Bobby. “See?”

“Yeah, I see.”

Dean looked from one to the other, shrugged after a moment when he realized there’d be no explanation, and sat down at the table.  Bobby, still slightly grinning, came over with a cup of hot coffee.  “How’d you want your eggs?”

Dean glanced up at the older hunter over the rim of his mug. “Any way you make ‘em?”

Bobby snorted. “Good answer.”

Ajax came over to Dean, who absently reached down to scratch the dog behind the ears.  Bobby let him eat a few table scraps, but mostly he’d learned to fend for himself outside.  There was always good dog food available, but Ajax knew his job so that Bobby could be gone for several days.  Like any good dog, though, he also knew how to beg.  The thought came to Dean that Sam might really have a little doggy DNA in him; his puppy dog eyes were as effective as Ajax’s.

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Breakfast and clean-up of both man and kitchen over, Bobby and Dean went outside to deal with the Impala.  Meanwhile, Sam took the phone and phone book and sat down to make an appointment to get his cast changed.  As he looked up the number, he realized that this was going to be one of the few times he could tell most of the truth about what happened.  That fact actually gave him a smile, which could be heard in his voice as he talked to the receptionist.

He made an appointment for ten the next morning, then hobbled back to the bedroom to begin sorting out their clothes.  Laundry was going to have to be done soon.  He wondered if the old washing machine still worked.  And the dryer.  He wasn’t about to go hanging clothes out on the line.

Much to his surprise, the washer and dryer, although old and rough-looking, purred like kittens when he tried them out.  Bobby was good at maintaining all kinds of things.

Sam started the first load, realizing how difficult these tasks were without a hard cast and one-handed.  When the task was completed, he went out the back door to sit on the porch.  Placing his injured ankle up on the railing, he settled in to watch the other two men with the Impala.  She was already off the truck with his brother under the hood and Bobby trying to start her.  She didn’t really want to, but Sam could hear Dean cooing to her and the mechanic’s curses.  The car started.  She definitely wasn’t happy about it, but Dean cheered anyway.  Sam frowned momentarily at his brother's continued effort to hide pain.  He decided to give the older man the rest of the day before forcing the issue.

Sam laid his head back against the wall of the house, closing his eyes for a bit.  It was comforting to listen to Bobby and Dean discussing the care of the Impala and to hear the other sounds of this remote location that was a safe haven for them.  A change in the sounds he was hearing brought Sam out of a very light doze.  He realized he no longer heard the washing machine.  He could do this, maybe for some time, but he knew his brother would want to get the car fixed and get back on the road as soon as possible.

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Dinner was over and Dean had yet to mention his wincing and cringing to Sam.  The youngest hunter had asked about it a number of times only to be rebuffed by his brother.  Dean hadn’t removed his shirt at all during the day even though the weather was warm, causing all of them to perspire heavily.  Sam had taken his shirt off as he took a little walk around the yard with Ajax, but had been unable to convince Dean to do the same.  The younger Winchester was determined to find out what was up with his big brother, even if he had to be sneaky about it.

“Dean?”

“Mmmmm?”

“You gonna drive me to the clinic tomorrow?”

“I suppose.  What time’s your appointment?”

“Ten.”

“Sure.  I’ll get Bobby to loan me one of his cars.”

“Thanks, man.”  Sam took a deep breath and slapped his brother on the shoulder that he’d been favoring.

Dean’s cry would have awakened the dead if there were any around.

“God, Sam!  What the hell?”  Dean looked at his brother with murder in his eyes as he tried to breathe through the pain of the smack.

“I’m sorry, but you’ve been blowing me off about what’s up with you ever since you and Bobby got back from retrieving the Impala.  I know you’re hurt more than you were when you went out there, and there’s no way it happened when you ‘fell in the stream’.  Now what haven’t you been telling me?”

“Fine.  I’ll tell you, but get me some painkillers first.  Okay?”  Dean could only hold his arm as he rocked back and forth from the pain.

Sam came back into the room with a glass of water and painkillers as Bobby burst in from the outside.

“What the hell happened in here?  You okay, Dean?” 

“I’m fine.  Sam, here, decided to do some blunt force questioning to find out why I’ve been favoring this shoulder is all.  Guess I’m not as good an actor as I thought.”

The other two hunters snorted in unison at that last statement as they both took seats.

Dean looked indignant as he swallowed the pills and leaned against the back of the sofa.

Sam waited for what he thought was a reasonable amount of time, then leaned toward his brother.  “Dean?”

“Yeah, yeah.  Okay.”  Dean looked over at Bobby who pulled a face raising his hands in an ‘it’s all yours’ gesture.

Turning to his little brother, Dean bit his bottom lip.  “I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Uh huh.”  Sam twirled a finger in the air to keep his brother talking.

“There was another shapeshifter out there.”

“Another one?”  Sam sat up straight at that and looked between the other two men.

“I thought I heard one when Joe picked us up.  There had been other indications, too.  I told Bobby when he got there.  We both were prepared with silver rounds when we went to get the car, but I got side tracked and it jumped me.”

Sam looked at the family friend.  “You killed it, right?”

“No, I didn’t.  It had Dean down, and they were rolling around too much.  I couldn’t get a clean shot.  I finally fired and burned it across the shoulders.  It took off running into the woods, which gave us enough time to finish loading the car and get out of there.”

“What do you think’s going on?”

“Bobby thinks there might have been a student and a teacher.  The one I killed by the stream might have been the student.  That’d mean this one was the teacher, maybe out for revenge?” Dean shrugged but immediately regretted the motion as the pain in his shoulder spiked through him.

“We’re too far away, right?  It can’t follow us here, can it?”

Their old friend shrugged as the brothers looked to him for an answer.  “We don’t know all that much about ‘em.  We might have come far enough, but if this is revenge, who knows?”

Sam looked at his brother.  “It’s after you.  It wants revenge for the death of its student.  We’re gonna have to watch out for you until you’re completely well.  There’s no way I’m gonna let it get you.”

“What’re you gonna do, Sammy?  Smack it with your cast?”

“Fine.  We’re in one of the safest places there is, so we’ll just stay here.  We won’t go out unless we have to…”

“Knock it off, Sam.  I’m not hiding.  I’m not saying I’m going to make myself a target, but I don’t want to live like that.  We can’t stay here forever.  We have lives to live and work to do.  We go on about our business, and if this thing shows up, we waste it.”

“Okay,” Sam relented.  “Now, let me look at your shoulder.”

Dean rolled his eyes as he allowed Sam to check the scratches.

Satisfied with what he saw, Sam slapped his big brother on the chest.  “Don’t try to keep this kind of thing from me again.”

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The days passed pleasantly enough.  Dean’s ribs were soon healed, his cat scratches were looking better all the time, and he spent all day every day working on the Impala.  Bobby helped when his business didn’t take him away from it.  Dean was always under the hood, under the car, or working on replacing some damaged exterior.  With the mechanic’s wide assortment of cars, there was no shortage of wrecks to cannibalize for anything he might need.  There was even a ‘66 Impala in very excellent shape that provided a new hood to replace the one the cougar had ruined.  Of course, the silver color wasn’t acceptable and was soon covered with a base coat.  Dents, scratches, and dings were worked on with loving care.

As Sam began to feel better, he took on most of the domestic duties since he wasn’t allowed to help with the car.  He wasn’t as good a cook as Dean, but he enjoyed it, beginning to experiment a little.  The hard cast helped make his arm strong enough to do almost anything, so when his ankle was better and the effects of the concussion receded completely, he began to go out for walks, taking Ajax with him at the insistence of both Dean and Bobby.  They were completely safe within the confines of the fence, but not necessarily so outside of that confinement.  Taking Ajax along wasn’t a problem for neither man nor dog.  Sam loved the dog, and the feeling was returned full force.  Sam threw sticks and Ajax happily retrieved them.  There’d been no sign of the shapeshifter and, although it wasn’t far from mind, it no longer caused the worry it initially had.  Life was on a very even and pleasant keel.

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Puma arrived at the junkyard as the sun went down.  He sat watching as the two men went into the house, Old Hunter sending a dog on patrol.  Puma was slightly annoyed at the presence of a dog, but not unduly worried.  He knew he could make quick work of the weaker animal, but it would mean that he’d have to take extra care in stalking his prey.  He watched the dog make his rounds of the junk yard, deciding to make his way around the perimeter at the same time. 

He needed to learn the lay of the land, test the dog’s instincts, and the men’s reactions if an alarm were sounded by the guardian.  Puma was in no hurry now that he’d located his prey.  He would watch and learn for a few days before attempting any kind of attack.  He waited to see where the dog’s dwelling was, if it was in the house or outside on the grounds.

The big cat stopped moving instantly as he saw the dog go on alert.  He watched the animal sniff the air and move around like he was trying to locate a scent.  Puma remained perfectly still, barely breathing, watching the scene unfold before him.  The dog whined in frustration as he continued his quest for a strong scent, his nose working both the air and the ground.  Puma, as he realized that he was no longer completely upwind of the guardian, began to back away, hoping his scent would no longer reach him.  After a time, Guardian snuffled his disgust at the loss of the scent that had worried him.  He continued his patrol but remained on alert, occasionally returning to the same spot to try to locate the scent once more.

Puma was impressed.  Guardian would be a formidable opponent that deserved respect and care in the days ahead.  The big cat, tired from his days of traveling, hunting, and keeping out of sight of humans who might want to kill him for a trophy pelt, decided to find a place in the trees where he could rest and study over the next few days.  Maybe a nice fat rabbit would present itself for a meal.

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Ajax hated cats, but he wasn’t afraid of them.  He was a dog and far superior, of course.  He was certain that he’d smelled a cat while on patrol, but there was something more about this scent that raised his hackles.  Whining in frustration that he couldn’t get a firm grip on the scent to tell for certain, he was certain that what he got smelled like danger.  When the scent ultimately disappeared, he resumed his patrol but continued to return to the spot where he’d first picked up the scent.  Nothing further could be found. 

When he finished his patrol, Ajax did not head for the house as he usually did.  He knew the danger was still out there.  It was his job to protect The Master and The Packmates.  He would continue to guard and protect as was his duty and his privilege.

When The Master called him to the house, he obeyed by going to the door but refusing to enter.  The Master raised his voice.  Ajax didn’t like that, but he knew what he had to do.  He trotted back out to the yard, taking up his post between danger and his people.  The door slamming behind him was loud.

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Bobby and Dean came into the house, immediately going to clean up.  They glanced at each other as they passed through the kitchen.  The smell was enticing, but they’d both been disappointed the day before with Sam’s concoction.  It’d hardly been edible. Ajax even refused to eat it. 

“Whatcha makin’, Sammy?”  Dean hesitated as he passed through the room.

“It’s a surprise.  You’ll see when you’re clean and can sit at the table.”

“Smells good.”

“Thanks.”  Sam was too busy to look up.

When the two tired men returned to the kitchen, they found the table all set and the food ready in serving bowls.  It looked really good and appeared to be spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread and salad.  Sam watched nervously as the other two hunters inhaled and made appreciative noises while serving themselves.

Sam placed a portion on his plate and took a bite.  He’d been tasting all along, so he knew what it tasted like but wanted to prove to the other men that it was edible. 

Dean watched his brother eat waiting a moment to make sure the younger man didn’t heave it back up or fall over dead.  When neither of those possibilities occurred, he took a bite of the spaghetti himself.  It was surprisingly delicious.  He cut a piece of meatball, forking it into his mouth with enthusiasm. 

His chewing came to a sudden halt as he tasted something different about the meatball.  Rolling it around in his mouth, he looked at his younger brother suspiciously.  Soon, however, he shrugged and continued to eat. 

Sam watched the other two men as they both tested the flavor of the meat, trying to decide if they liked it.  He breathed a sigh of relief as they both swallowed and went on gobbling the meal.

“What’s the meat, Sammy?”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s good.  What is it?”  Dean began to be a little suspicious again.

“Ground turkey.  The way you eat, I thought I’d try to lower your cholesterol a bit.”

Two sets of eyebrows rose simultaneously as the older two hunters looked at each other in surprise.

“I’d never have thought it’d be good, little brother, but you did okay.”

Sam beamed at the praise, digging into his own meal as the relief swept through him.  The rest of the meal was enjoyed by all three men.

“I’ve got turkey bacon for breakfast, too.”

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“’S up, Bobby?”  Dean went to stand next to his old friend, who was staring out the screen door.

“Ajax hasn’t come to the house yet.  He should be done with patrol and up here begging for scraps by now.”  Bobby opened the door.  “Ajax!  House!”

Both men waited, breathing a sigh of relief when the Rottweiler came bounding up to the porch but refused to come in when Bobby held the door for him.

“Get in here, Ajax!”

The dog sat down.

“What’s wrong with you, you cussed critter?  You ain’t got the sense God gave a pea.  Now get inside!”

Ajax backed up a couple of steps then sat back down.

“Fine!  Stay out there then.”

The dog stood up, turned, and ran back to the junkyard.

Bobby slammed the door shut as he turned to Dean.  “Something has him jacked.  He only won’t come in when he’s worried.  He’ll let us know if it’s real, though.  Probably a weasel or somethin’ like that.  Maybe a coon.  Most likely be on the porch in the mornin’, whinin’ ta come in.”

“Did you see or hear anything?”

“Nah.  We’ll have to trust Ajax to raise an alarm, if necessary.”

“You think it could be the shifter?”  Sam’s voice from behind startled both men.

“Don’t even know if there’s really anything out there at all, Sam.  Bobby thinks Ajax might just be interested in a weasel or a coon.  We’ll see.”

Sam shivered as the memory of the huge cat Dean had killed came back to him.  The older Winchester, seeing the shiver, put his hand on his little brother’s shoulder and squeezed.  Both men took comfort from the contact.

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Puma watched the little play in the junkyard from his vantage point in the tree. ‘Very interesting.  Guardian disobeyed Old Hunter to continue his patrol.  Guardian will definitely be a force to be wary of.’

Settling in for the night with a belly full of juicy raccoon, he allowed himself to lightly doze while still keeping his senses attuned to the actions of the Rottweiler.  As the lights went out in the house, Guardian finished his patrol and returned to the porch to keep watch.

Seeing the dog take up his post on the porch, Puma decided to come down from his perch to see what he could sense at a closer range.  His descent was soundless.  Reaching the ground, he took a moment to check the breeze then headed toward the fence.

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Chapter Six

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Ajax chewed over a mixture of feelings.  He was concerned at the niggling scent of danger that had placed itself in his brain.  He knew there had been no further indication that the danger was still there.  He was intent on serving The Master and The Packmates.  He completed his second patrol and, satisfied for the moment, took up his place on the porch by the door that led to The Master’s dwelling.

He sat up for a while, panting as he looked out over the yard for any movement or sound, anything that would be where it had no business being.  Seeing and hearing nothing other than the crickets and other normal night animals, the magnificent dog lay down.  He put his head on outstretched paws, continuing to keep his eyes moving, his nose and his ears alert.

The Rottweiler continued like this for some time, hearing and smelling nothing out of the ordinary.  He was about to drift into a light doze when his keen sense of smell alerted him.  It was the danger smell from before.  Ajax was instantly on his feet and moving, a low growl coming from his throat.  Getting himself under control, he silently moved around to catch the location of the source of the danger.  He paced back and forth in front of the fence as he had before, but could locate nothing.

His frustration built as the scent weakened until it was finally gone.  Unable to hold it in any longer, he pointed his nose to the sky and barked one loud deep bark.  He wanted whatever danger was out there to know that he was on the job and not easily fooled.

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The three hunters in the house awoke suddenly to the sound of Ajax’s bark.  All three stayed in their beds unmoving to see if there was any further alarm from the dog.  Dean and Sam looked at each other in the darkness, neither able to see the other clearly but each knowing the other was awake.

Sam raised his eyebrows in question.

Dean shook his head.

The younger man sat up, tilting his head at the door.

“Yeah, I hear him.  You get your .45, but stay here.  You can’t move real fast on that ankle yet.  I’ll be right back.” 

“Dean…”

Dean grabbed his Glock and quietly slipped through the bedroom door, meeting Bobby in the hallway.  The older hunter was similarly armed, raising his left hand in greeting to Dean.  The older Winchester jutted his chin in acknowledgement as he fell in step with his friend.  “Does he do that a lot at night?”

Sam sat fuming for a few moments before coming to a decision.  Grabbing his .45, he followed his brother into the hall where the two older hunters were quietly whispering as they headed for the door to the yard.

Dean glared at his little brother when he realized Sam had joined them.  Sam returned the look with a stubborn set of his jaw and half-closed eyes.  He was not going to sit around and be treated like a child.

Bobby looked from one Winchester to the other and said, “Nah, but it ain’t unheard of neither.  Might be he’s puttin’ somethin’ on notice, or he might’a thought he seen a coon.”

The three men quietly continued through the dark house until they reached the door to the porch.  “He ain’t made any other sound, has he?” Bobby whispered, already knowing the answer.

“Not that I heard.”

The older man thought for a second, then seemed to come to a decision.  “I’m goin’ out on the porch, but leavin’ the lights off.  He’ll come to me, and I’ll be able to tell what he’s thinkin’ when he does.  Don’t you go takin’ a nap while I’m out there.”

The younger hunters snorted, giving their friend a gentle shove in the shoulder.

Bobby opened the door cautiously, looking and listening to the sights and sounds of the junkyard as he stepped onto the porch.  He found nothing out of the ordinary, but left the door open behind him to give the brothers quick access if necessary.  Quietly moving to the edge of the porch, he waited for Ajax to come.  No signal was necessary.  The dog was on alert and would have heard his master come outside.

The brothers stood just inside the door on either side with every hunters’ sense alert.  They stayed hidden, but never let their old friend out of their sight.  They waited patiently for the Rottweiler to come to his master. That patience was soon rewarded when a movement in the yard caught Bobby’s attention.  Ajax came out of the shadows to stand at his master’s feet in anticipation of a command.

“What’s up, boy?”  Bobby whispered.

Ajax looked deeply into his master’s eyes, trying to convey his message.  After a few moments, Bobby seemed to understand and motioned the dog to patrol as he headed back inside.

“What’d he say?” Dean asked, not feeling the least bit odd about his question.

“He was putting something on notice, but didn’t know what it was.  He’s on the job, and we can go back to bed.”

Without further conversation, the three men headed back to bed.

Sam sat waiting as his brother settled back down in his bed, soon breathing evenly in sleep.  The younger man felt good knowing his big brother was unconcerned enough to fall immediately back to sleep.  He wasn’t quite as unconcerned, however.  Lying down again, he listened to the sounds of the night: Dean’s soft snores, the crickets, the night birds.  Soon, his own soft snores joined his brother’s.

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Puma smiled to himself in his perch in the tree.  Old Hunter, Killer, and Tall One put a lot of faith in Guardian.  That was indeed very good to know.  This would be a night of great importance as he watched Guardian fulfill his purpose on this plane.  Being a nocturnal animal definitely had its advantages.  Guardian would be nocturnal this night, but he’d also be awake for the humans during the day.  While Puma slept in the sun, Guardian would be on watch.  It was going to be glorious.

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Bobby woke to the sun beginning to shine into his room as it rose.  As was his custom, he lay listening to the sounds of the morning to see if there was anything unusual going on in his section of the world.  The old hunter was never caught off guard, and this was one of the reasons for that.  He suddenly realized that Ajax wasn’t wanting in after last night’s refusal.  Jumping out of bed and pulling his pants on, he quietly went down the hall to the door to check on the dog.  He felt sure that everything was fine but needed to check on things himself.  As he reached the door, he picked up the shotgun that always stood next to it and looked through the window before quietly opening the door.  Ajax was sitting in his favorite spot overlooking the yard.  His head jerked around as the door opened, and he stood to greet Bobby.

“Anything goin’ on out here, Ajax?”

The big dog fairly rumbled with pleasure at seeing his master.

Bobby looked around the yard, trying to sense any trouble but finding none.  “You wanta come in for breakfast, boy?” he said with a smile as he regarded the excited dog.

At the question, Ajax stopped moving, looking out to the yard.

“Well?  Ya’ comin’ in or what?”  Bobby’s gruff voice brought the dog around to him again.  The hunter opened the door.  Ajax hesitated one more second but bounded through the opening.

Following the dog inside and returning the shotgun to its place, Bobby walked into the kitchen where Ajax was sitting in anticipation.  “Glad to see things are better for ya today, Ajax.  Want some breakfast?”  He laughed as the dog did a little wiggle while still sitting at attention.  Bobby got the bowl and mixed some Kibble for teeth with some premium canned dog food.  Everyone knew that he loved his dogs more than any human, spoiling them when he could.  No one dared comment on it, however.

Ajax delved in when his bowl appeared on the floor in front of him, devouring the food in a few gulps even though the hunter had given him a little extra this morning for missing dinner the night before.  Bobby appreciated the job the dog did, proving it with plenty of love and attention. 

The hunter got down on one knee in front of his friend, put both hands around the dog's head and gave him a good scratch while talking baby talk to him.  Ajax returned the favor with sloppy doggy kisses.

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Dean had awakened to the sounds of the door being opened, Bobby stepping out on the porch, and the man speaking to Ajax.  The young hunter reached for his Glock, lying quietly to discern if there was any danger.  When the door closed and Dean heard movement in the kitchen, he put the Glock back in its place, relaxing back against his pillow.  He lay there for a few minutes, trying to decide if he wanted to get up yet or go back to sleep.  Sleep sounded good, but there was still plenty of work to do on his baby, so he got up and pulled on some pants.  As he reached the kitchen, he stood in the doorway and watched the scene before him with amusement.

“If you say one word, Winchester, I’ll kick your sorry ass all the way to Texas.”  Bobby hadn’t even looked up.

“Me?  What would I say, huh?  You and Ajax having a private moment in your own kitchen is perfectly fine with me.  I’m just a guest here.  I got nothing to say about anything.”  Dean moved over to join the pair and added his own scratches to the older hunter’s.  Ajax appeared to be in Heaven.

Eventually the younger man stood  and took a good look at his friends.  “Any idea what had him worked up last night?”

“Nope, none.  He had to think about it for a second before he came inside a while ago, too.  Before I opened the door, he was sitting up staring straight out into the yard, nose and ears twitching.  I didn’t see or hear nuthin’.”  The older hunter rose, wiping his hands on his jeans as he did so.  “I reckon we just need to be a little bit cautious today.  Ajax’ll alert us to any danger, but we gotta watch ourselves, too.”

“Totally agree, man.  I’m takin’ my Glock out with me today just in case.  I’ll mention it to Sam, too.”

Turning at the sounds of footsteps in the hallway, the two older hunters chuckled as Sam came into the room rubbing sleep out of his eyes.  He also had a bad case of bed head.

“What’s so funny?”  Sam asked, blinking against the light in the kitchen.

“You are, little man.”  Dean thumped his brother on the shoulder as he headed down the hall to the bathroom.  “Look in a mirror lately?”

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Ajax was pretty tired.  He’d been up all night keeping watch against the danger he had sensed earlier.  When The Master opened the door as the sun was coming up, he was happy to see him and glad that all was well in the house.  The Master gave the signal to come inside and said ‘breakfast’, definitely one of his favorite words, but Ajax was undecided for a moment.  He looked back out to the yard, but The Master’s gruff voice brought him around.  He went in.

The Master gave him food, more than usual, giving him love when he was done eating.  Soon the elder Packmate came in, also giving him love.  The dog was very happy.  As The Master and the Packmate began talking to each other, making delicious smells, and clattering things, he went to his place by the fire.  He curled up but did not allow himself to settle down for sleep.  Younger Packmate hadn’t appeared to give love yet.  Ajax would wait for him.  Time passed before Younger Packmate came to see him, giving him his love, too.  Ajax was now content.  The Master and the Packmates sat at the table talking to each other and eating their food as Ajax lightly dozed, always on the alert for any piece of food that might come his way.

When they were done eating and sat at the table talking, the dog finally gave up his vigil for a deep sleep.  All was well inside the house; he could ‘stand down’.

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Puma was pleased.  He’d seen Guardian stay awake all night during his occasional rounds, sniffing the air and ground and listening closely to the sounds of the night.  Guardian had not heard Puma as he crept like a ghost around the compound.  The cat had made sure he stayed downwind from the dog. His strategy had worked beautifully: Guardian was without one whole night’s sleep.

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“So. . .  What do you think that was last night, Bobby?”  Sam asked as he leaned back in his chair with a cup of coffee.

“Not sure.  He caught a sense of something; whether he smelled it or heard it, I don’t know.  The rest of the night was quiet, but he felt he had to stay on guard.  We’ll see what today brings.”

The siblings nodded absently as they drank their coffee.

“What are you planning for today, little brother?”

“Thought I’d come out to offer my expertise on fixing the car.”  Sam smiled mischievously.

Dean spluttered, almost losing his already precarious balance in the chair and falling over backwards.  “Like hell!  You’re not getting anywhere near my baby with those ginormous clumsy hands of yours.  You’re likely to knock something off or out of place.  You can just stay in the house or on the porch or anyplace except close to my car.”

The other two hunters couldn’t help but laugh at Dean’s reaction.

“I mean it, Sammy.  Stay away.”  He looked at his little brother through eyebrows so low they rubbed against his eyelashes.

Still chuckling, Sam put up his hands.  “Just kidding.  I have no interest in working on your baby.  I think I’ll take Ajax for a walk.  In fact, my ankle’s so much better, we might go for a little jog.”

The sleeping dog raised his head at the mention of his name.  Not seeing anything of interest nor anyone talking to him, his head went back down as his eyes closed.

“That sounds like a much better idea.”  Dean slumped in obvious relief, immediately sitting right back up and pointing a finger at his little brother.  “As long as you keep Ajax right along side you.”

“Fine, big brother, I’ll refuse to chase the sticks he throws for me.”  Sam’s grin took any ire out of the statement.

“See to it that you do.”  Dean grinned in return.

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Puma saw Old Hunter come onto the porch to speak to Guardian.  Guardian hesitated briefly until Old Hunter barked at him.  Guardian headed right into the house.

Pleased more than he could imagine, the big cat descended from his perch in the big tree.  He’d take this opportunity to learn as much as he could about the compound before the men and Guardian came back outside.  He crept as close to the gate as he could but realized that he wasn’t going to get inside easily when he felt a force pushing him back.  Sniffing at the metal gate, he followed it around to its end, sensing some strong medicine protecting the inside of the compound.  He continued to search, looking for some weakness.  As he approached closer to the location of the house, the medicine became stronger.  He snorted in disgust, feeling that he’d have to lure them out of the grounds to accomplish his purpose.

Hearing voices from the house and smelling wonderful aromas, Puma stopped to listen.  He recognized all three men talking to each other and to the dog.  It sounded like Tall One and Guardian were going to leave the compound.  He would attack them, which would bring Killer and Old Hunter out to defend them.  It was perfect.  Puma couldn’t believe his good fortune.  He began chanting a song of gratitude as he continued his investigation of the perimeter.  When he found no chinks in the armor, he decided to find a plump animal to fill his belly while he waited for Tall One and Guardian.

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Bobby and Dean took leave of the kitchen to get themselves ready for their respective days as Sam did KP duty.  He didn’t really mind, but a slight frown crossed his features as he realized they hadn’t had the turkey bacon for breakfast.  Opening the refrigerator to see if was still there, he breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the package lying where he’d left it.  He vowed to do the cooking the next morning himself. 

The older hunters returned through the kitchen to head outside.  Bobby had an order to fill and Dean, of course, had to work on his baby.  Ajax watched the procession a little anxiously, but didn’t move from his spot. 

“Turkey bacon tomorrow, dudes.”

“Right, Sammy.  Whatever you say.”  Dean waved a dismissive hand at his brother as he went out into the yard to return to his task.

Sam turned to Ajax.  “Guess I’ll have to get up pretty early tomorrow, huh, boy?”  He laughed as he could almost see a question mark above the dog’s head.

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Dean never failed to appreciate the beauty of the Impala.  This morning, the sun was just right and the little bit of dew that had crept under the tarp overnight looked like sparkling diamonds.  She was beautiful.  There really wasn’t too much left to do on her— only a few mechanical things and a little body work.  When those were done, he’d let his brother help with the painting.  He could trust the younger man with that.  While Sam didn’t love the car as much as Dean did, his normally fussy disposition wouldn’t allow him to do a bad job of it.

A small shadow of concern crossed the hunter’s features as he thought of the shifter that might be there to kill them.  If it had traveled all that way, it meant business.  Turning his back to the car, he sat on the hood, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied the perimeter beyond the fence.  As his father had taught him, he studied first the general scene for any clump, lack of foliage, or color that was unnatural.  He next looked at details, trying to determine the specifics of anything out of place.  Finding nothing, he moved on to the next part, repeating the process again until he’d done his best for the whole perimeter.  He’d had to move away from the Impala to see the whole scene.  Finally satisfied, he returned to his morning’s work, waving at Bobby as he saw the older hunter watching him.  Both men grinned.

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Bobby watched Dean as he made his detailed inspection of the perimeter of the yard.  The older man followed suit with his own study of areas that Dean had yet to reach, looking for any sign of movement made to avoid detection under the intense gaze of the younger man.  He saw nothing.

The mechanic knew Dean was concerned about the shifter, that it might go for Sam first to punish the older brother.  Bobby hadn’t gotten to be this age by being careless, either.  He had enough sigils, wards, and runes around the place to repel almost anything that might come at them.  He’d never dealt with a shifter on his home territory before.  Mostly he’d just killed them.  He made a mental note to check with Sam about the research he’d been doing.  A discussion between professionals could be very helpful.  The hunter returned to his work, checking the parts off the list that were ready to be picked up.

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Puma was slightly concerned.  Older Hunter and Killer were very diligent about their safety.  He watched as the two men carefully looked for something out of place, neither looking at the same place at the same time.  It made it harder for Puma to remain undetected.  He retreated back into the forest, even though there was a huge clear patch from the tree line to the fence, deciding it was best to remain stationary.  Movement, however slight, might very well be detected by these men.

He relaxed slightly when both hunters returned to their work, deciding that he might have to move his plan up a bit.  The longer he delayed, the greater the chance of his discovery.  These men were very dangerous and not to be taken lightly.  He was not going to be able to wait for Guardian to be as tired as he’d originally planned.  The big cat continued his silent movement around the compound but stayed further into the trees than he’d previously thought necessary.  He would hope for an opportunity on this day.

As Puma climbed back into the tree he’d been resting in, a breeze brought the smell of rain in the distance.  He looked at the sky where there was only sunshine at this moment.  The breeze told him it would be different fairly soon, though.  He would wait and see what developed.

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Sam was done with the clean up but decided to get some research done before heading out for his run.  He opened the windows as he moved to his laptop.  It was a beautiful morning with fresh air that would be good for the old house.  Bobby spent very little time inside and the place could smell kind of musty sometimes.  It was a job getting the windows unstuck, but he managed.

Ajax followed him around as the windows opened with great snotty sniffs to the air when a breeze was finally able to travel through.  Sam jumped when the big dog gave a low growl followed by a whine.  He hadn’t really been paying any attention to the animal at all but he certainly was now.  “What’s up, Ajax?  You smell something?”  Noting the furiously working nose and the pricked up ears on the four-footed friend, Sam decided to take a look outside before settling down to his research.  “Let’s go outside, okay?” Sam said as he scuffed toward the front of the house.  Ajax followed eagerly behind.  When the young hunter opened the door, the dog pushed past him and ran full tilt into the yard, nose alternately in the air and on the ground.

Sam stood on the porch observing the animal for a while before joining his brother where he was working on the Impala.  “Hey, Dean?”

The elder Winchester looked up from his task at his brother’s voice, frowning slightly at the look on the younger hunter’s face.  “What’s up?”

Sam looked back at Ajax again as he approached his brother.  “Has anything been going on out here?”

“Nuh uh.  Why?”

“I don’t know, really.  I opened some windows in the house, and Ajax suddenly started growling and whining.  Not a lot, but low and frustrated-sounding.  I let him out, and he’s been trying to find something ever since.”  Sam looked back again, finding the dog now at the fence.

Dean followed Sam’s gaze.  They both stood quietly for a few moments observing the dog’s behavior. 

“I don’t know, Sammy.  Bobby and I both looked carefully at the tree line when we came out.  I haven’t seen or heard anything out of the ordinary since then, but…” He gestured at the machine he’d been using and at Bobby’s office where there was an unidentifiable noise.

Sam’s eyebrows lifted as he listened to the sounds coming from the little building.  He looked back at his older brother who shrugged with his own eyebrows and shoulders.  “Is he singing?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe.  I’ve thought about going over there to see if he needed help, but I didn’t want to offend him.”

The younger Winchester snorted at his brother’s remark, putting his hand over his mouth to keep his noise level as low as possible.  He didn’t really think the older hunter could have heard him, though.  The brothers stood together for a moment, laughing quietly at their friend’s expense.

Their laughter died suddenly as Ajax went streaking past them, bumping Dean’s leg and knocking him slightly off balance.  Sam reached out to steady his brother.  Both of them took off after the dog while Dean grabbed his Glock from the workbench as he ran.  When they reached the fence, Ajax was running back and forth, barking furiously.  Sam turned to yell for Bobby, but found the old friend coming fast with shotgun in hand.

“What’s goin’ on?”

Sam explained about the dog’s behavior in the house and his pushing past Sam to get outside.  “Then he streaked past us to come over here.  We haven’t seen anything.”

Bobby squinted into the tree line again, a deep frown on his face.  “He gets excited about rabbits and squirrels and such, but this ain’t bunny rabbit behavior.”  The older man headed down the fence line in one direction as the Winchesters headed in the other direction.

“It’s here.”

“I think so.”  Dean nodded.

“We need to kill it.”

“I know.  We will.”

“How’re we going to find it?”

“It came here for a reason, Sam.  It didn’t just travel all that distance for the hell of it.  It’ll show itself when it’s ready.  We’ll be ready, too.”

The younger hunter took a deep breath as he stood up straight, appreciating and gaining strength from his brother’s confidence.

Thunder rumbled in the western distance.  None of them had noticed the change in the sunlight, that it was dimmer, less cheery.  Dean looked from the west to the sky in general as he began to move back toward the car.  “Help me get the tarp on the Impala, Sammy.”  Both men trotted back to the car to begin the process of ‘battening down the hatches’.  The family friend also returned to his office to secure everything there.  Rain began to fall as the three men entered the house.

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Puma was slightly amused at the humans and Guardian.  There had been movement in the house as the windows went up.  That had been interesting.  What had interested him even more, however, was the action of Guardian when the house door opened.  Guardian had tracked him down.  He’d been like a wild thing, ferocious as he’d tracked Puma’s scent to the area of the fence nearest to where the big cat rested in his tree.  The three hunters were soon at the fence practically peering right at him.  ‘Guardian must be destroyed.  He must not keep me from my goal!’

What had amused Puma was the reaction of the three hunters when they heard the thunder.  All three had looked to the sky, hurrying off to take care of whatever minor things held their interests this day.  Guardian stayed.  Guardian was the danger that would be dealt with first.  Puma blinked in contentment as he began to formulate a plan to get Guardian and the three men outside the fence.

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Bobby was pissed.  He’d called that damn dog three times, but the stupid mutt was still out there.  ‘Let ‘im rust!  I don’t care.’  He slammed a window down.  “Who opened these freakin’ windows?  The outside belongs outside.  Sam?”

“Yeah, Bobby, it was me.  I’m sorry man, I thought a little fresh air would be good in here for a while.  Didn’t know it was going to rain.”

“Boy, you want fresh air, you go outside, you hear?”

“Yessir, I do.” Sam said contritely, shooting his frowning brother a ‘what the hell?’ glance.

The older hunter’s shoulders slumped as he looked at the two young men who were regarding him with concern.  “Dumb mutt!”

Both brothers’ faces changed instantly in understanding.  Their old friend was scared for Ajax.  They could hear him barking and growling outside as they closed the windows and couldn’t help but worry, knowing what was probably out there.  The mighty Rottweiler understood his job and was fiercely willing to do it, but Bobby had a marshmallow heart under that gruff exterior, and he loved the ‘dumb mutt’.

All three men jumped as the tone to Ajax’s barking changed.  He suddenly sounded like he was in a battle.  Running to the door and grabbing the shotgun from its place, Bobby led the way to the porch.  Ajax had moved to the gate and was throwing himself against it as he railed at what was on the other side.  Pacing back and forth in front of the gate, clearly taunting the dog inside the compound, was the biggest cat any of the men had seen.  So deep was their shock that they stood motionless for a few seconds.

“Dean…” Sam reached for his brother.

“Weapons, Sammy!”

The three men broke out of their trances, Bobby running forward to the yard and the brothers running for their weapons.  The young hunters were soon caught up with Bobby as he approached the gate, Dean with his favorite sawed off and his Glock, Sam with his .45 and the other sawed off.  The cat was not longer there, but Ajax was now trying to climb the fence to get out, his frustration almost unbearable.

“Ajax!  Down!”

The dog ignored his master’s order and continued his effort to climb the fence.  Bobby slapped the fence with his shotgun.  “Ajax!  Down!”  This time he seemed to hear the order as he stopped his hysterical barking and looked down at Bobby.

“Ajax!  Down!” Bobby repeated a little more softly, but with no less authority, leaving no doubt that he was to be obeyed.

Reluctantly and clumsily, the Rottweiler backed down far enough to make the final jump.  He continued to worry and whine about what was on the other side of the fence.  He needed to get out there.  He looked up at Bobby, trying to convey that need to his master with his eyes. 

Bobby's stubborn features melted as he hung his head and patted the Rottweiler’s soggy fur.  “I know, boy.  We’ll get ‘im.  I promise.”

“So ... no doubt now, huh?”  Sam’s voice brought the others’ attention to him.  “He followed us.”  He looked at his brother.  “I’ve never seen anything like this, have you?”

“No, I haven’t.  I know they can travel long distances in their animal forms, but this was hundreds of miles.  No wonder he’s just showed up.”  Dean suddenly stiffened as he looked at the tree line.  “There he is!”

Ajax renewed his battle cry as the three men all looked at the golden animal seemingly taunting them from where he appeared to be simply resting.  He was too far away for the shotguns to be effective, moving further back into the trees as the younger hunters brought up their silver-loaded hand guns.

“Damn!  He’s a smart sonuvabitch!  Did you see that?”  Dean looked at the others, rain flinging off his nose as he turned his head.  Nodding heads and growls were the responses he got.

Looking back at the tree line, Sam pointed and exclaimed, “There he is again.  Dammit!”

Ajax growled ferociously, running a little way away from the three men, beginning to dig a hole under the fence in an attempt to get to the offender.  His efforts were aided and hindered by the current downpour.  It made the packed earth easier to move, but made his purchase with his back feet more difficult to maintain.

“Bobby…”  Dean put his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“I know.”  Bobby stepped forward with his keys.  “You boys ready?”

The brothers looked at each other, some form of communication only they understood passing between them.  “Do it,” they said simultaneously.

Bobby ducked his head in acknowledgement.  He quietly placed the appropriate key into the lock and turned it to allow the padlock and chain to fall to the muddy ground.  The gate began to creak open from its own weight.  Ajax, hearing the noises of chain and lock splashing on the ground and the gate creaking open, abandoned his efforts to push past the men.  Before they could stop him, he was nosing the gate to allow himself freedom.  Once outside, his body became a blur as he charged to where the danger had been disappearing into the trees.

“Shit!”  Bobby exclaimed as he took off after the dog with the brothers hot on his heels.

Thanks to the overhead cover, the rain was falling much thinner inside the forest.  It helped them to see better, but being in the forest also gave the cat an advantage they didn’t like.  Each hunter stood up against a tree trunk looking and listening in a different direction.  The frustration factor was high, but each man managed to maintain vigilance.

Suddenly, a cat’s roar and a dog’s yelp came from the direction Sam was facing.  He took off at a run, the other two men following close behind with Dean swearing and calling his brother to wait for him.  Sam’s long legs got him to the tiny clearing first.  Ajax lay on his side, panting.  Sam’s relief was monumental as he knelt beside the injured dog.  Turning at Bobby’s exclamation of grief and anger, he stood.  “It’s okay, Bobby.  He’s alive.  He must have been thrown pretty hard, but I think he’ll be okay.  Good thing the cat didn’t get a better grip, though.”

Bobby collapsed onto the dog, grabbing him and holding him tight.  “You damn stupid mutt!  What were ya thinkin’ runnin’ off like that?”  He moved his hands carefully along the animal’s ribs and legs, making sure nothing was broken.  Ajax seemed to come around a little to lick his friend’s face.  It seemed he was trying to give his master some reassurance.  The older man let a sob escape while the younger hunters kept watch to give their friend his moment.

“Sammy!”

The younger sibling glanced at his brother with raised eyebrows.

“Don’t you dare do that again!  Hear me?”

“I hear you.”  Sam nodded contritely.

“Good!”  Dean’s expression softened a little.  “You really think he’ll be okay?”

“I do.  He’s tough.”

“Good,” came the quiet reply.

Something that both Winchesters would later describe as an ‘almost sound’ brought them to awareness but unable to locate it.  They quietly moved off in opposite directions, weapons at the ready.  The scream of a cat from above him brought Sam’s head up as the huge animal leaped onto him from the tree above.  Unable to get his weapon further up in time, he put out his left arm in defense with the hope those sharp teeth would be deterred by his cast.

“Sammy!”  Dean screamed as he heard the cry and saw his brother go down under the weight of the big cat.  Running as hard as he could, he fired his .45 slightly above the struggling duo to try and break it up.

Bobby laid Ajax back down on the ground with one hand even as he held his shotgun toward the action, shouting his frustration at being unable to get a clean shot.

As Dean got closer to his brother, the golden animal broke off the struggle and ran away with loud snarl aimed directly at the angry sibling.  As he slid to his knees beside Sam, he registered that fact with a slight shock.  Fear for his brother brought him back to the situation at hand.  “Sam.  Sammy?  You with me, man?”

“’M okay.”  He held up his mutilated cast to show his brother.  “I think it’s about ready to come off anyway.”

Looking in shock from his brother’s face to the wreckage of the cast, the older Winchester quickly checked for further injuries.  He took the shattered cast gently in his hands.  “Did that bastard’s teeth go through and break the skin?  Are you bleeding?  We’d better get you and Ajax back to the house to regroup.  The cat sure isn’t going anywhere, and we need some strategy.  Bobby?  What do you think?”

“I agree.  This thing’s in its element out here.  We need to figure out a way to maybe trap it or something.  Don’t want nobody to get killed.”  He reached down to pick up his injured dog as he headed back to the house, Ajax licking his face.

“I’ll take point.  We’re almost at the edge of the trees.  He won’t try anything out there.”

Dean glared at his brother but couldn’t come up with a valid reason to change it.  “Okay.  Bobby and Ajax in the middle, and I’ll bring up the rear.  Everybody pay attention!”

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Dean was almost at the edge of the tree line with Sam and Bobby well and safely ahead of him when he heard the slightest of sounds behind him.  ‘Damn the rain!’ he thought as he turned to face the danger.  He knew the cat must have been timing the hunter's moves as he guarded the rear of the trio trying to get back to safety.  The speed of the attack caught him mid-turn, knocking him over to the side.  In a split second the cat was upon him, Dean swinging the shotgun to try and stun it to get a chance at a shot.

The other two hunters came running and screaming as they fired shots into the air.  Bobby had laid Ajax on the ground and was only steps behind Sam.  As they almost reached the struggling duo, a black streak came from behind them and went right for the big cat.  Ajax managed to get his teeth on the cat’s tail, causing the animal to roar in anger as he let go of his prey to turn towards the new threat.  Ajax released his hold on the enemy’s tail and took off away from the hunters, the cat following right behind.

Bobby raised his shotgun but growled in frustration at the close proximity of the fleeing animals.  He looked to Sam who had thrown his shotgun down and was carefully aiming with his .45.

“What’re you waitin’ for boy?  Kill the damn thing!”

Sam acknowledged the older hunter with a flick of his eyes as he firmed up his stance while tightening his grip on the weapon.  ‘Ajax is one helluva dog!’ he thought as he found his target, took a breath, and squeezed the trigger.

The echo of the shot slowly died away, leaving a tableau in the rain.  The two standing hunters came to life simultaneously, running in opposite directions.

“Dean!”

“Ajax!”

Bobby reached Ajax’s prone form as the dog raised his head.  “You okay, you stupid mutt?  Did he hurt you?”  Ajax licked Bobby’s face then put his head back on the ground.  “No!”  Bobby screamed.  The dog jerked at the noise and looked back at his master.  Finding no further injury to his friend, he realized that the faithful Rottweiler had put everything into the effort to save Dean.  He was merely exhausted.  The relieved hunter put his head down on Ajax’s head and mumbled, “You damn dog!  You coulda been killed.”

Sam reached his unconscious brother whispering, “Nonononono!”  Dean was covered in blood, but none of the gashes appeared to be life-threatening.  The younger man lifted his sibling into his lap, calling his name.  “Dean.  Wake up, man.  Come back here.” 

The rain was washing the blood off of the older man’s face as he began to stir in Sam’s arms.  As consciousness returned, he started to sit up in terror, but strong arms held him down.

“It’s okay.  He’s dead.  I killed him.  He won’t be coming back, Dean.”

The injured man looked around in confusion, finally dropping back against his little brother as the words sank in.  “He’s really dead?”

“Yep, all nine lives spent.”  Sam smiled.  “How do you feel?  Any specific injury we need to look at?  You have some gashes, but I don’t think they’re anything a few stitches won’t take care of.”

Dean seemed to take personal inventory, shaking his head as he decided. “Nope.  Nothing broken.  I just sort of hurt like hell all over.  Are you holding me?  Aw, Sammy…”  The older man managed his trademark smirk as his brother huffed while helping him up.

“Bobby?  Ajax?” the older Winchester asked in concern.

Sam pointed his chin in the direction of the two in question as they came towards the brothers.  Bobby was once again holding Ajax in his arms.

“He okay, Bobby?” asked Sam, his voice thick with concern.

“He will be.  Stupid dog put everything he had into that run.  He’s completely exhausted.”  The family friend bit his lower lip as his voice broke on his final words. 

Dean looked from one to the other in confusion.  “What run?”

Sam squeezed his big brother’s arm.  “I’ll tell you about it while we’re getting you cleaned up and stitched.  Ajax is a real hero.  You okay on your own?  Need a hand?”

Dean growled and headed off to the house with the other hunters right behind him.

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Things settled down in the Singer household quickly.  Injuries were stitched, stories were told, and hero dog was catered to shamelessly until he was recovered enough to return to his duties.

Sam made an appointment for the next day at the clinic to have x-rays of his injured arm.  He made up a story about being caught out in the rain and the cast getting soaked beyond repair and more or less falling off.  X-rays showed no further need for a hard cast and Sam was given instructions to “be careful out there”.  Thrilled to have the hateful attachment gone, Sam offered his dimples to the nurse and to the receptionist as he left the clinic.

A few days later, as he and Ajax came back from their run, Sam was called over to where Dean and Bobby were standing.  Closing and locking the gate behind them, he went to see what his brother wanted.  Dean was beaming his megawatt smile which the younger Winchester hadn’t seen in some time.  It was soon apparent why.  The Impala was sitting there in all her gleaming black glory.  The younger man was amused to realize that he actually perceived the car to be posing for him.

“She’s beautiful!  Is she done?” Sam asked as he ran his hand over the hood and down the sides.  His brother took a rag from his pocket following Sam around the car, buffing fingerprints as he went.

“She sure is!  She’s purring like a kitten and is as gorgeous as I’ve ever seen her!”

Sam smiled as he looked at his brother. “Beautiful!”

Dean puffed up like a proud father.

There was a moment when both brothers looked in each other’s eyes, a flicker passing between them.  They were remembering another time they’d been at Bobby’s with Dean working on the Impala to bring her back to life after the semi hit them, after John traded his life for Dean’s.  It cast a slight shadow over the joy of this moment for them both, but it passed quickly.

Bobby clapped his hands together. “What say we have a coupla beers to celebrate?”

The brothers heartily agreed to the suggestion.

Sam expected his brother to want to leave the next day, but it was nearly a week later when Dean made the statement that it was time to go.  He’d spent his days helping Bobby in the yard while Sam spent time researching possible hunts.  It was a pleasant time for all without the threat that had been hanging over them.  Sam was surprised it took Dean so long to get restless, but didn’t bring it up.  He was sure that his big brother was just enjoying the relaxation and safety of their location.

On the day they left, both brothers now completely healed and ready to go, Bobby helped them with their bags and giving them each a hard squeeze.  Stepping back, he complained about the “damned dust in the air” as he wiped his handkerchief over his eyes.

“Thanks for everything, Bobby,” the brothers spoke in unison.

“Not a problem, boys.  You know you can call me anytime.  Anytime.”

Dean nodded. “We know.  Thanks, anyway.”

“Welcome.”

The older Winchester turned to his younger brother, not wanting to drag out the goodbyes. “Get in the car, little brother.  The open road awaits us!”

Sam clapped Bobby on the shoulder, scratched Ajax’s head, and got into the car. 

Bobby held the gate open for them as they drove through, locking it behind them.  As he held up a hand in farewell, a hand came out of either side of the car, the horn honking as the Impala quickly shrank into the distance.

Bobby turned back to the house, the day suddenly seeming not quite as bright as it had been.

End...

 

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