Here is my new story. A bit different from what I've done before. Hope you like it. (This is a repost of chapter 1 as half of it didn't post the first time around!)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters that you recognize from the show.
Just outside Gresham Oregon-Thursday, April 22, 1999
"Sam! Look alive, boy," John Winchester snapped at his youngest son, the fifteen year old flinching at the harshness in his father's tone.
"Yes, sir," Sam replied softly, shooting a glare at his older brother when he chuckled in amusement beside him.
"I don't want any of your screw ups, Samuel. Keep your head out of the clouds, or wherever the hell it is you go when you space out! There is no room for errors on this hunt. People are dying and we need to stop this thing before anymore die," John said, his dark eyes narrowing on Sam, daring the teenager to argue.
"I won't screw up, Dad," Sam answered sullenly. "I wasn't the one who screwed up the last time," he whispered under his breath as he lowered his eyes to the ground.
"What was that, Sam? You got something to say?" John shot, anger filling his eyes.
"No, sir. I didn't say anything, sir," Sam said, his eyes shifting sideways to his silent older brother.
"Good. Now, I want you two to take the path to the right. Go about two hundred yards in and take up separate positions, not too far apart. I'm taking the path to the left. I'll try to lure the bastard toward you. Between the three of us, we should be able to take the sucker out," John instructed, eyeing his boys critically.
"Yes, sir," Dean said, speaking for the first time since they had exited the Impala and left it a mile back at the visitor parking area, the twenty year old standing straight, ready for the hunt to begin.
"Sam? Did you hear me, boy?" John spat, his patience growing ever thinner with his youngest son.
"Yes, sir. I heard you," Sam answered, his hazel eyes meeting his father's dark brown ones.
"Then answer me like your brother did. I'll not be disrespected by your insolence!"
"You didn't give me the chance, Dad…"
John had Sam by the collar before either brother knew what was happening, the infuriated man pulling the much smaller boy up until his feet barely touched the ground, Sam grasping his father's forearms to stabilize himself.
"Don't you dare talk back to me, Samuel! I don't care if you didn't want to come on this hunt. I don't care if you had tests at school. That isn't important. The only thing that is important is you doing as you're told with no smart ass remarks…you hear me boy!?" John hissed, shoving Sam away, the boy stumbling and nearly falling on his backside.
Sam gazed up at John through chocolate fringe, tears threatening to well and nodded. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," he said softly, his cheeks burning as they reddened.
John eyed his youngest, shaking his head and silently wondering how he could be so different from his older brother. "Good. Now, keep your eyes open. Wendigos are tricky. They can be on top of you before you even know what hit you. Have your flares ready. I want this to go smooth and easy…you hear me, Sam?"
Sam looked up, seeing only disapproval and exasperation in his father's eyes. "Yes, sir. I hear you."
"Alright then, let's move out," John commanded before he turned and hurried down the left hand path.
Dean nudged Sam, the younger boy turning his gaze to his older brother. "Come on, kiddo. Let's haul ass," he said, leading the way down the other path, Sam following about ten feet behind.
"You know, Sam…if you'd just keep your mouth shut and listen, Dad wouldn't be so hard on you," Dean called back, turning his head slightly to look over his shoulder at his brooding little brother.
Sam looked up, his hazel eyes wide with hurt. "Well, he could listen to me once in a while, Dean. I'm not the only one who screws up, but according to Dad, I am. He's the one who wouldn't listen to me that last hunt and he nearly got himself killed, but do you think he'd acknowledge that I was right and he was wrong? No way…he found a way to make it my fault, just like he always does!" Sam spat, his eyes falling back to the path at his feet so that his brother wouldn't see the sudden moisture in them.
Dean rolled his eyes, shrugging his shoulders at his overly dramatic brother. "Whatever, Sam. Dad does the best he can…"
"With you, he does. With me? He couldn't care less about what I want or how I feel. I'm just supposed to follow in line, take what he says as gospel and not question him. What a crock!" Sam spat, stopping to kick at a small bush near the path.
Dean stopped and turned, his face suddenly red with anger. "You know what, Sam? You're just a spoiled little brat! I can't believe how selfish you are. Dad knows more than you will ever know about hunting, so yeah…you should shut your cakehole and listen to him. It's not always just about you, you know. There are three people in this family, Sam!"
"It's never about me, Dean. Dad didn't need me on this hunt. Caleb offered to come with you guys. Dad just made me come because he knew I had those tests and he wanted to show that he's in charge, that my life isn't mine to govern!"
"That's a bunch of bullshit, and you know it, Sam! Dad didn't make you come along just to ruin your life. You can make those tests up when we get back…"
"No…I can't, Dean! Mr. Fiedler said there would be no make ups! I'm going to get docked a full grade just for missing them! "
"Well…I'm sure if you would have told that to Dad, he would have taken Caleb up on the offer, Sam. He's not as bad as you make him out to be," Dean said, turning to make his way down the path once more, Sam huffing before moving to follow.
"He did know, Dean. I told him and he didn't care. He said it didn't matter. He said the only reason I'm in school is to keep CPS off his back," Sam called, hurrying to keep up with his brother.
"I'm sure you're exaggerating, Sam. Dad wouldn't say that," Dean spat, never slowing his stride.
"Yeah, that's right. I'm just making it up, because that's what I do. I'm just a spoiled, selfish brat who only thinks of himself and Dad and you can do no wrong…" Sam huffed, not even sure if his brother heard him.
Dean suddenly in his face let Sam know that he had indeed heard him. Sam pulled up short to avoid slamming into his brother and looked up into angry, green eyes. "You know what, Sam!? You said it, not me! You can just go the hell! I'm tired of your whining, stupid ass!"
Dean turned and stormed off, leaving a very shocked and hurt little brother to watch his retreating form. Sam's mouth hung open, not able to comprehend what had just transpired. Dean didn't believe him. He thought he was lying just to make John look bad. But Sam wasn't lying. His father had said those things to him. Sam knew that Dean would never believe him. His older brother had just proven that. Sam's heart sunk as he watched Dean disappear around a bend in the path. He'd thought that Dean would always have his back, that he would always defend him, but now he knew that wasn't true. As long as Sam blindly followed orders and kept himself in line where his father and brother wanted him, Dean would have his back, be on his side, but once he stepped out of that line, tried to voice his own opinion, tried to be who he was and not who they wanted him to be, then all bets were off. Dean would always choose John's side, Sam could see that now.
Sam loved his brother more than anything and it hurt him deeply to know that Dean's support depended on whether Sam stayed in line or not. He stood for a moment longer, unable to move. With heavy feet and a heavy heart, he started back down the path, hurrying to catch up to his brother, uneasy about him not being in his sight. Dean may be pissed at him, but he still needed to watch his brother's back, so Sam picked up his pace, Dean coming into his sight in just a few short moments. Dean turned to glance over his shoulder, turning away quickly when he saw that Sam was behind him. The brothers continued on in silence until they had reached the area their father had instructed them to take position at. Dean walked to a tree on the right side of the path, pointing Sam to another tree about fifteen feet away. Sam nodded then moved to the tree, leaning against it and dropping his pack at his feet. He reached in and pulled out two flares, wanting to be prepared if and when the Wendigo showed its ugly face. He looked over and saw that Dean had his flares in hand also. He sighed when it was apparent that Dean was purposely ignoring him. It was going to be a long day, Sam decided as his eyes scanned the surrounding forest, his ears listening for any sounds that did not belong.
Dean trudged down the path, anger at his brother driving him to move faster. His anger however began to dissolve as he thought about what Sam had said. His brother may be a pain in the ass, and he may be whiney at times, but Dean had never known him to lie. He began to feel the first tendrils of guilt push their way into his head as he thought about what he'd said to Sam. He knew that his dad must have said those things to Sam, because Sam wasn't a liar, even though Dean had basically called him that. Dean knew that John could be a son of a bitch sometimes, especially to Sam and he felt bad for taking his father's side on this one. The hurt he saw in his little brother's eyes just before he'd turned away and stormed off assaulted Dean's mind and the young man slowed his pace, listening for the sound of his brother's footsteps behind him. He was just about to turn back when he heard nothing, but then he heard Sam hurrying up the path towards him. He glanced quickly over his shoulder to make sure Sam was there then turned his head back around and continued down the path. He would apologize later, when he had come up with the right words to say.
Dean came into a small clearing and concluded that they were where John had wanted them. He moved to a tree to his right and indicated to Sam to take the tree opposite him on the left. He swallowed when he saw the miserable look on his baby brother's face, but remained silent as he watched Sam take position, the younger boy reaching into his dropped pack and removing two flares. Dean followed suit, removing the flares he had stashed in his pack and turned his gaze to the trees. He would be ready for the Wendigo when the evil bastard showed itself. He hoped that all would go as smoothly as John had said it should, his biggest fear being that he wouldn't be able to get a good shot off, Sam getting hurt because of it. He wouldn't let that happen. He couldn't let that happen. He'd hurt Sam already today and he wouldn't allow any more hurt to come to him. He'd take care of the fugly then he'd apologize to Sam for not believing him.
Dean cast one more glance Sam's way, smiling softly when he saw Sam alert, his eyes scanning the trees, flares ready. His dad was wrong about Sam. The kid may not embrace hunting like they did, but he was good at it nonetheless and he definitely wasn't a screw up. Sam had indeed been right about the last hunt, their father's stubbornness almost costing him his life. Sam's insistence that John had been mistaken and not letting Dean be until the older brother finally listened to him was the only thing that had saved their father's life. But, of course John had shrugged it off, not giving Sam his due, never realizing how deeply his indifference hurt his baby. Dean decided that once this hunt was over, John and he were going to have a long talk. His father needed to understand that Sam was not Dean and that no matter how much John pushed him and cut him down, he would never be Dean, nor should he have to be. Sam was perfect just the way he was. He didn't need to change. He was Dean's geeky, pain in the ass, kind hearted little brother and Dean couldn't imagine him any other way. Dean didn't want him any other way.
Dean settled more heavily against the tree, yawning as he stretched his arms above his head. He hadn't slept much on the ride to the forest and was having a hard time keeping his eyes open all of a sudden. He was fine when he was moving, but now it was the hurry up and wait part of the hunt, the part he truly hated. He needed to be in action, needed to be doing something. His mind wandered as the minutes ticked by, the silence of the forest lulling him, luring his mind away from the task at hand. He dropped his arms to his sides, hitting the flares against his thighs in a steady beat to the song that played in his mind. His eyes scanned the treeline before dropping to the ground at his feet. Sam's soft yet insistent voice calling to him finally brought him around and he looked up just in time to see Sam get hit, the boy crying out in alarm as the Wendigo threw him. Dean had no time to react before the creature had him, it's long claws piercing his flesh, cutting into his ribs. Dean screamed in agony as the beast dug further into him and started to run with him. A loud sound echoed through the forest then a bright flash of light filled Dean's vision. He heard the Wendigo scream before he was flung to the side, his body slamming into a tree, pain lancing through his head as it impacted with the hard trunk.
Dean turned sluggish eyes up to the creature, staring as it pounded at the fire that engulfed its arm. It took off into the trees, an ear splitting screech making Dean pull his hands up to cover his ears. Darkness began to encroach upon his vision, and he briefly thought about Sam and whether he was okay before the darkness claimed him and his head fell silently to the forest floor. He didn't feel the hands that clutched at him, frantic yet gentle. He didn't hear the pleading cries of his little brother as he begged him to open his eyes. He didn't witness his father grabbing Sam up and literally tossing him away, the young boy falling to the ground, grunting in pain as his father yelled at him to stay put, to not touch his brother. It would be awhile before Dean would wake up and when he did, he would find that the family he had known that morning was gone and may never be the same again.
Okay, hopefully this came through correctly this time. It will make chapter two make a whole lot more sense. Please review.