Title: The Reader's Special: Fourth Edition

Author: Disasteriffic Kaz

Info: Set post 8x17 "Goodbye Stranger"- This is the Reader's Special where you tell me what YOU want in each chapter & I write it. Every event prompted by you after each chapter. Hurt/limp/awesome/caring!Sam/Dean

Author's note: This is the Fourth Edition. If you weren't involved in the last three editions, I recommend going to have a read. :D This story, like the others, will be entirely driven by Reader Participation! So, get those prompts ready, kids!

Rules for the 4th Edition of the Reader's Special.
Please read them. :D Ignorance of the rules will not save you if you ignore them. LOL

1: One prompt per person per chapter.

2: LOG IN when you leave your prompt. If I don't have a name, your prompt won't be used and you won't receive a reward story. No Anonymous/Guest prompts.

3: Unlike previous Editions, not every prompt will make it into a chapter. I will choose a maximum of 15 prompts for each chapter. The last edition was my abject lesson that this has become popular and even I have trouble working over thirty disparate prompts into each chapter. LOL You may resubmit an unused prompt for a later chapter if it will still fit within the story.

4: A prompt may be as simple or as involved as you like, from hurt Sam or hurt Dean to a whole scenario, but PLEASE try to choose something that fits within the framework of the story. For example, don't ask for characters who didn't appear or can't appear during the chosen season; if the boys are on the Appalachian Trail, don't prompt for a high seas chase. LOL Ain't gonna happen.

5: Remember that you are giving a prompt for events in the next chapter, not the story over all. Leave that to me. :D

6: In line with the above rules - no trolling prompts. You know who you are. LOL Don't prompt something completely ridiculous in an actual effort to throw me off. Not only will it not get used, but you won't receive a reward story at the end. This is designed to try and create a great story while giving readers scenes that you will really enjoy on a personal level. It's not "stump the author."

7: Anyone who prompts, even if your prompt was not used, will receive a one shot reward story of your choice once the Reader's Special is concluded, as per previous editions. (That's my favorite part by the way, writing those. LOVE doing those. 3)

8: No Wincest/Slash/Mpreg. Nothing wrong with it, but this isn't that sort of story. This is gen so prompt appropriately please.

9: If you don't prompt the story at least once, don't ask for a reward at the end of it. Only prompters for the 4th Edition receive one shot rewards. :D

10: Show your appreciation. Reviewing to only leave a prompt is fine, but throw a bone to the chick doing literary contortions for you and let her know you're enjoying the story and the effort involved along with your prompt. It keeps her and her Muse smiling and writing.

Remember:

This story is a marathon, not a sprint. You're helping me write it so let's not break both of Sam's legs and put Dean in a coma in chapter 2 or we won't have much of a story to tell.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0 -

CHAPTER 1

Gary pulled the hood of his parka closer around his head and turned his face out of the wind as he dug his radio out of his pocket with a gloved hand. His booted feet crunched through the snow, and he reminded himself that he only had two short weeks left before he'd be sunning his happy ass on a beach in Hawaii. "Gary to base. Come in. Over." He flicked on his flashlight and aimed it at the ground penetrating radar. It looked like a cobbled-together snow blower and had stopped working ten minutes before despite his begging the damn thing.

"Base. Find anything, Gary? Over."

Gary smiled at Tessa's voice and hunched deeper into his coat when the wind picked up. "Hell no, Tess. The damn GPR packed it in from the cold. You sure we can't drill oil somewhere warmer? Maybe wait for spring? Over."

Tessa's laugh filtered over the line. "What's not to like about three months of night and cold? Head back to base. Over."

Gary snorted and rolled his eyes as he looked at his watch. It was three in the afternoon, but, as he looked around at the night-darkened December landscape, it may as well have been nine at night. "Yeah, I'm heading back. Put some of that whiskey in the coffee pot for me. Over and out." He tucked the radio away and grabbed his pack, slipping the loops over his shoulders. Whatever genius had decided drilling an oil field on this godforsaken island in December was a good idea was going to get an earful from him…eventually…if he didn't freeze to death. He started the long trek back around the hills back to the refinery with his head down against the wind. The moon was bright enough to light his way, and he absently watched his shadow play on the snow ahead of him. He retraced his steps from earlier in the day, watching his shadow weave in and out of each and frowned.

Gary stopped and lifted his head. "What the…" Two shadows stretched out ahead of him across the snow. He turned to look up into the sky at the moon and then around for any other source of light but found nothing. Gary looked back and staggered back a step in surprise. The second shadow moved but not with him. It split from his shadow and wavered across the snow. "This isn't happening," Gary muttered and shoved a hand into his pocket to pull the radio out again while he watched the other shadow. Suddenly, he remembered all the strange stories he'd heard before he made the boat trip to the island, every softly spoken tale of terror that he'd discounted as old hands trying to scare the new guy. It made his already cold skin chill even further when the shadow seemed to draw closer to him and then suddenly rushed toward him. "Gary to base! Gary to freakin' base! Tess!"

The sound of Gary's terrified scream carried over the snow-covered hills and then faded away to silence, broken only by Tessa's voice crackling out from a discarded radio in a pool of quickly freezing blood. "Gary?"

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Dean watched his brother from the hall. Sam didn't know he was there yet, and it was the only time Dean could get an honest look at him. Sam sat hunched into the table over his laptop and Dean could read 'pain' in every line of his body. His little brother was becoming an expert at hiding what the Trials were doing to him and snowing Dean on how bad it was…or he had been before Castiel had let THAT cat out of the bag. Dean shivered slightly in fear. The knowledge that whatever was happening to his brother was something that even an angel couldn't fix was…terrifying and keeping him up nights.

Sam shifted at the table with a soft cough and Dean sighed, hefting the tray in his hands. "Dinner time, Sammy," he said with forced cheer and gave his brother a lopsided grin when Sam looked up at him. "What?"

Sam smirked and shook his head as he leaned back in his chair, going for nonchalant and hoping he pulled it off. "Nothing." He looked at the plate of food Dean set in front of him and smiled again as he reached out and picked up what looked suspiciously like a salad wrapped in a tortilla shell.

"Shut up and eat already." Dean dropped into a chair at the head of the table and pulled the laptop away from Sam. "Rabbit food and chicken wrap. Found a cookbook in the kitchen."

Sam laughed around a mouth of actually damn good wrap, accepting Dean's weak excuse for doing something nice for him, and nodded. "I think I like your new nesting skills."

Dean gave a satisfied smile and turned the laptop around to see the screen. "What are you looking at?"

"Job," Sam said and swallowed. He grabbed the beer Dean had brought him and took a sip, savoring the cool flavor in his mouth that seemed to always feel parched these days.

Dean narrowed his eyes at his little brother. "We've got demons AND angels crawling up our asses. Cas is…I don't even KNOW what the hell he is right now, and the Trials, and you wanna go off to…" he looked at the screen and his brows flew up his forehead in surprise. "Alaska, Sam? In friggin' December? Are you cracked?" Dean slapped the laptop closed. "This is not Deadliest Catch, dude."

Sam snorted and set the beer down. He'd known this was going to be an argument and had finally settled on the one thing Dean couldn't pass off no matter how worried about his little brother he was. "People are dying, Dean."

"I'll call Garth. He can set someone else on this one." Dean tapped the lid of the laptop. "We are not gonna go play in the damn snow while you're…"

"I'm fine, Dean," Sam said quickly and shook his head when Dean looked at him darkly. "You know what I mean. And this…" Sam waved a vague hand at himself. "…whatever this is, it's not gonna get better. I'm pretty sure it'll just get worse with every Trial, so I want to do whatever good I can now."

'While I still can' hung unsaid in the air between them, and Dean squeezed his hand around his beer until his knuckles whitened and then loosened his grip with an act of will. "You do plenty of good, Sam," he said fiercely. "HAVE done plenty of good. The rest of the damn world's still around to NEED saving because of you." Dean blew out a breath when Sam just watched him with suspiciously damp eyes and a pleading expression. Just like that, Dean's anger fled and he knew his brother was right. They were hunters and they had a job to do. "Would you put the damn puppy dog eyes away already? Fine." He emptied the last of his beer and thumped it on the table. "Alaska."

Sam smiled, pleased to have gotten what he wanted so easily and took another bite of his wrap. "Actually it's an island on the Bering Sea."

"Aw, come on!" Dean groaned and glared at him while Sam chuckled.

"People have gone missing, turned up dead. Some of them are just frozen." Sam nudged the laptop with the bottom of his beer. "A few though, they've found what's left of them, torn apart. Maybe chewed on, but the reports are kind of sketchy on that."

"Awesome." Dean flipped the laptop back open and looked at the page Sam had pulled up. "What the hell is Black Gold Corporation?"

"Alaskan oil drilling company. They think there's an oil field under Umnak Island." Sam finished off his wrap and pushed the plate away. "I think they're the ones who've stirred something up and it's started killing people. The first attacks happened shortly after they set up shop."

"Umnak," Dean sounded out the word and quirked a brow. "What sort of name is that?"

"Inuit I think." Sam shrugged. "In fact, I did some research into the history of the island, and we've got a few suspects from Inuit lore, and my favorite bit -" Sam grabbed the laptop and pulled it back. He clicked and brought up another page before shoving it back to Dean. "Check that out."

Dean read down the page and looked up at Sam with surprise. "Seriously?"

Sam nodded. "Better bring a lot of salt just in case."

"Holy crap." Dean read the rest of the article and wondered just what they were getting themselves into. "The entire crews of four Russian trading ships murdered on the island three hundred years ago. Well, my money's on ghosts."

"Maybe." Sam leaned back again. "I'm not sure though. It's a different part of the island, over where the abandoned naval base is. These attacks are happening on the other side between the geyser fields and the refinery platform at the base of the volcan…uh…"

Dean slapped a hand on the table and stared at Sam. "You better'a been goin' for a Star Trek reference there, Sammy. If you wanna keep livin' long and prospering, tell me you were gonna say Vulcan."

Sam shook his head and couldn't stop the smirk. He hadn't planned on telling Dean about it ahead of time but it had slipped out. "Volcano. Actually…two volcanoes, one on either side of the island, and uh…both sort of a little active."

"Sort of a little? Are you five?" Dean grabbed the beer from his brother's hand and finished that off too. "How active?"

"Minor tremors, some smoke. Nothing major." Sam raised his hands with a smile. "I checked, man. Technically, they're listed as dormant, but they're on the Ring of Fire so 'dormant' doesn't mean a whole lot there."

Dean shook his head and set Sam's empty beer down. "I'm calling Garth."

"I already did." Sam smiled and shrugged. "There really isn't anyone else available for this right now, not that he'd trust with it anyway. He said he'd go himself but he's got Kevin to look after."

"Dammit." Dean growled and thumped back in his chair to glare at his brother. "I'm not flying."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Prompts are now closed for the next chapter. :D Chapter 2 coming soon!