Out in the Iowa wilderness

"Sammy!" Dean Winchester shouted as he watched the monster catch his little brother's ankle in its long fingers and throw him through the air. The 6-foot-4 "little" brother's flight was abruptly stopped when his head connected with the trunk of a tree. Dean scrambled over the underbrush to reach Sam as he saw his brother's floppy, chocolate-brown hair start matting with freely flowing blood, but the wendigo had other plans for him. Dean felt the wendigo grab his leg and pull and it was all he could do to keep his own head from cracking open. As it was, a sharp stick protruding from the ground ripped a long, shallow gash on his right bicep as he was dragged backwards by the monster. Dean kicked out at the paw that was pulling him away from his brother and managed to connect with the hairy fingers just hard enough to make the creature let go. As soon as his legs hit the ground, he stumbled to his feet and ran towards Sammy, fumbling for his flare gun as he sprinted. He heard the angry roar of the creature behind him, and just as he reached Sam, Dean felt the wendigo's long talons rip through his left side as he was flung away from his brother. His head and right side slammed into a tree at what felt like Mach 1, and he heard the ribs on his right side crack. Agony washed over him as he fell to the ground, clinging to consciousness only out of sheer determination to protect Sam.

Dean forced himself to his feet, his various injuries clamoring loudly for attention, blackness seeping in at the edges of his vision, his left torso steadily dripping blood along with the entire right side of his face. He staggered as dizziness from the collision with the tree and blood loss hit, but soon righted himself, concentrating on only one thing- protect Sammy. As he walked as fast as he could with his injuries back to Sam and the wendigo, his foot hit something hard in the underbrush. Dean peered at the object with slightly blurry eyes, ignoring the pain he caused himself by bending over to pick up the object. As his eyes cleared slightly, he realized that it was his flare gun. He grinned at his luck and hurried a little more to get to his brother before the monster could kill him.

When Dean reached the clearing where he had last seen Sam and the wendigo, he saw plenty of blood, but no sign of either of them. Panic set in for a second, raising his heart rate and speeding up his breathing, before Dean could get his emotions under control. Not that he was ever really in control of his emotions when his little brother was hurt. Not when the one who hurt his Sammy was still out there and breathing. But he kept a tight hold on his rage and panic, and looked at the scene before him with cold, emotionless eyes. He saw the small puddle of blood where Sam's head had been lying against the tree the wendigo had thrown him into, and saw that there were drag marks along the ground where it looked like the wendigo had dragged the freakishly tall man off into the woods. Dean went to follow the trail, but as soon as he turned, he was reminded of how badly hurt he himself was. He wanted to power on until he could find his brother since he knew that Sam's head was pretty banged up, if the puddle of blood was any evidence, but Dean also knew that there was no way he could take on a wendigo in this state. Hell, the blood loss and concussion were about to make him pass out on his feet. "Sonuvabitch," Dean muttered, running his hand through his spiky, crew-cut, dirty blond hair as he trudged back to his baby, his '67 Chevy Impala, with the intention of grabbing his med kit, patching himself up and getting the hell back out there to find his brother. However, before he could do more than wrap his ribs and staunch the bleeding, he sat down heavily, leaning against the car, and slipped into unconsciousness.

A/N Hey, this is my first fanfiction! So be kind and send me some feedback about it! Review, follow, fave, or PM!