A/N:: Okay, so insomnia has bitchslapped me recently. I haven't slept in four days, which means I'm writing a lot to pass the time until I inevitably slip into a small coma. I would've had this chapter up last night when I finished it at one in the morning, but I didn't trust myself to proofread with the slightest bit of sanity, so I had my friend look this over today. But anyway... Here's another chapter, just like I promised. Yay!

I have also come to the realization that I can't write dialogue for John Winchester to save my life. But oh well, I did my best.

Disclaimer:: Yeah, yeah. I don't own it.

Dean and Sam stood in unison, the younger's hand on a flashlight, the older's on his pistol as they rejoined the others in the center of the campsite, moving nearer to the fire. The creature cried out again, desperate screams with no discernable source.

"He's trying to draw us out." Dean informed them all in a steady voice. "Just stay cool, stay put."

"Inside the magic circle?" Roy jabbed, though he kept both hands on his rifle and his eyes remained fixed on the forest around them.

Dean found himself glaring at the screen at the man. Had it been a regular movie or show, then he'd be rooting for the guy to die because seriously, he was being a huge dick - and the fact that he was wrong made his bitter sarcasm even more cringeworthy. He almost wished Sam had taken his opportunity and punched him right in the nose.

"Help! Help me!" The screams continued, though this time they were followed by a low growling and a loud scream. Roy pointed his gun toward the sound, seeming to realize the gravity of situation for the very first time.

"Okay, that's no grizzly." he realized.

"Give the man a prize." Bobby muttered, clearly sharing the annoyance Dean held for the man. Most of the time, Bobby was one of the more understanding hunters when it came to civilians who had no idea what really went bump in the night, but Roy's personality really made it hard to be sympathetic.

"Can you blame him though?" Sam piped up, looking to Bobby with a tilted head. "He doesn't know any better." He defended the man like one would a child that had unknowingly done something bad at school. "For all he knows it's some kind of animal."

To that, Dean rolled his eyes and snorted. Of course Sam would defend him. The kid was a total bleeding heart.

Sam and Dean kept their defensive stances, while behind them Haley took her brother's hand and lowered them both to the ground against a tree behind the three men.

"It's okay. You'll be alright, I promise." She assured him, only to shriek a second later as something rushed past the clearing with a snarl.

"It's here." Sam's voice was low, tense, but there was no fear to be found there. Twice, Roy shot his rifle into the darkness - the second one answered with a feral sort of shrieking roar.

"Oh come on!" Dean looked scandalized. "Did he not hear the whole, 'if you shoot it you'll only piss it off' speech!?" He crossed his arms over his chest, fighting hard to not go into a fully fledged rant. He ignored the amused look he got from Sam at his reaction, as well as the raised eyebrow he got from his father, as shocking as that was.

"I hit it!" He announced loudly, before rushing into the brush, eager to see exactly what it was he hit.

"Dumbass."

"Okay, seriously Dean? Shut up." Sam muttered, amusement fading as his brother's irritated outbursts. The first few times it was funny, seeing Dean get all worked up and angry about it - but it got to be kind of annoying the longer it went on.

"Ooh. Feisty Sammy." Dean teased, grinning.

"Roy, no!" Dean called, "Roy!" He didn't dare to follow at first, stopping his pursuit at the symbols in the dirt. He turned back to Haley and Ben, who then had a torch in hand. "Don't move!" He commanded, before running off into the darkness, Sam just behind him.

"Don't go runnin' after him, ya idjits!" Bobby groaned. He knew why they'd followed him into the brush, of course. They wanted to save people, protect them. As noble a goal as that was, the older hunter knew damn well that some people just weren't worth sticking your neck out to save - especially when they'd shown nothing but disregard for any attempt you'd already made - and that Roy was clearly one of those people.

"It's over here! It's in the tree!" Roy exclaimed, coming to a stop underneath an old pine. A pair of inhuman hands reached down from the branches, seizing Roy's head in it's hands and snapping his neck easily and yanking him upward.

Sam flinched away from the sight reflexively, the sickening snap of bones making his stomach twist in a way that brought bile to his throat. He absolutely hated that sound, he'd heard something like it when he'd broken his arm a few years before.

"Roy!" Dean called again, trying in vain to get the man to return, unaware that it was too late. The brothers came to a stop together, looking through the darkness for the guide. Sam shone the flashlight around, though there was nothing to be found.

The following morning, Sam was sitting against a hollow tree stump, holding his father's journal and absently fiddling with a lanyard attached to the old leather book. Dean, Haley, and Ben were among the wreckage of the original campers' tents. Brother and sister were resting on the ground while Dean stood just behind them.

"I don't.. I mean, these types of things, they aren't supposed to be real." Haley started, clearly unsure of herself and what she was saying.

Dean snorted, rolling his eyes, unable to help himself. He ignored the reproachful look he got from Sam.

Dean, who was tracing his fingers over the claw marks on a tree, turned back. "I wish I could tell you different." he admitted, moving to crouch nearby.

"How do we know it's not out there watching us?" She asked, unable to help looking around.

"We don't." Dean admitted. "But we're safe for now." He was sure of it.

"How do you know about this stuff?" She asked. The question brought the older Winchester up short as he considered for a moment

"Kind of runs in the family." he finally answered, standing a moving off to do something else as Sam returned.

"Hey." He greeted. Haley stood up, glancing at him with curiosity. "So we've got a half a chance in the daylight." he informed them. "And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch."

Dean beamed at Sam, both the one on the television and the one that sat on the floor at the foot of the bed, happy to see the future version of his little brother looking for some sort of outlet at least for the anger that wasn't in fighting civilians. His smile faltered a second later as a realization hit him. Sammy was doing what Dad had done - thrown himself into hunting as a release, a way to get out all the pent up anger while simultaneously looking for revenge. His eyes flicked between his father and his little brother, mind suddenly clicking the personality traits together. A low breath hissed from between his teeth as he struggled to focus on the television with the realization.

Dean looked up, surprised but not at all upset. "Well, hell, you know I'm in." He replied.

Sam showed the Wendigo page in the journal to Haley and Ben, explaining the lore to them. "Wendigo is a Cree Indian word It means 'evil that devours.'"

"They're hundreds of years old." Dean interjected, coming up behind his brother, water bottle in hand. "Each one was once a man. Sometimes and Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a minor or hunter." He slid between the two as Sam moved off, closing his father's book.

"How's a man turn into one of those things?" Haley asked, looking like she wasn't quite sure she wanted to know.

"Well, it's always the same," Dean started, picking flashlight up off the ground. "During some harsh winter a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp."

Bobby perked up as they began discussing the lore of the wendigo. He recalled reading something in the past, an old native book, about the effects cannibalism could have on a man. Nowhere had it specifically said 'wendigo' but it had spoken of powers attributed to those who partook in common cannibalism, speed, strength, and the like. He hadn't paid much attention to it - it wasn't the information he'd been after at the time - but he now made a mental note to look more into it when he returned home.

"Like the Donner Party." Ben muttered sarcastically.

"Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh give a person certain abilities. Speed, strength, immortality." Sam continued, looking between the two as he spoke.

"If you eat enough of it," Dean cut back in, "Over years, you become this less than human thing. You're always hungry."

"So if that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?" Haley asked, sounding doubtful. Dean looked back to Sam, who looked away, before turning back to her.

"You're not gonna like it."

"Pretty sure she doesn't like any of it." Sam commented, casting a sidelong look to his brother. He wouldn't deny that reacting and replying to the TV was a bit relieving, more so than he would've suspected it to be - even if it did feel a little bit ridiculous to do so.

"Tell me"

"More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake it keeps it's victims alive It, uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants."

"Oh that's gross." Dean groaned, reaching a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in disgust. "It keeps people alive while it eats them?!" He couldn't help the small shiver that rushed through him. He watched his future self curiously, and tilted his head when the older him didn't seem at all phased by the fact. It made him wonder again, what all had they seen that had rendered he and Sammy so jaded toward the horror-movie mess? Sure, he'd been hunting for a couple years now, but still, the things that some of these creatures did to people still made his stomach turn.

"If your brothers alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there." He finished, looking again back to Sam. Haley looked at her brother for a moment, then back to Dean.

"And then how do we stop it?" She asked.

"Well, guns are useless, so are knives Basically-" he held up a can of lighter fluid, a beer bottle, and the white cloth he'd picked up from around the ruined campsite. "We gotta torch the sucker."

"Huh. Only thing we know you have to kill with fire is a Rugaru." Bobby mused, and they'd only learned of that a few months ago when John had been faced with one. He absently wondered if there was any connections to the lore, then, if the method of destruction was the same. It wasn't likely, he knew, but it wasn't completely unheard of either.

Later, Dean lead the way through the woods, Molotov cocktail in his hand. Haley followed, then Ben, with Sam in the rear. They passed several trees marred with claw marks and blood.

By the time night fell, Sam was leading the group.

"Dean," he called. Quickly, the older hunter caught up, moving past Ben and Haley in the process.

"What is it?" He asked, though he didn't need an answer. Sam was looking up at the tree tops, and when he followed the gaze he saw bloody claw marks and broken branches everywhere.

"That seem a little suspicious to you?" Bobby asked, turning to John curiously. "This thing's supposed to be a great hunter - so why's it leaving 'em a trail to follow?" He couldn't help the unease as he looked back to the red stained gouges in the pines. Creatures were rarely so obvious. Of course, he didn't know much about wendigos, so it was always a possibility that they didn't do much in the way of covering their tracks. It didn't seem likely though.

"Could be a trap." John agreed, fingers tightening ever so much on the arms of his chair, a new anxiety crawling through his veins when he looked back.

"You know," Sam started, moving around to Dean's other side, eyes wide, "I was thinking, those claw prints, so clear and distinct. They were almost too easy to follow." The growling roar from the previous night sounded behind them as the realization was made. More growling came from behind them, causing Sam and Dean to whip around to face it as the trees around them rustled.

Haley stood beneath a tree for a moment before blood dripped onto her shirt.

"Well that's not good." Dean commented, wondering for a moment whose blood it was - surely not the wendigo's, so Roy's or Tom's then? He grimaced, part of his mind forcefully reminding him that these were people, or at the very least it seemed that way.

After a couple drops she realized it and looked up, before leaping out of the way just as Roy's corpse landed exactly where she'd been standing. Dean stepped closer, examining the older man's body as Sam moved to Haley's side, almost crouching over her protectively for a second before helping her up.

"You okay?" He asked her, "You got it?"

"His neck's broke." Dean reported as Sam helped Haley back to her feet. Even more snarls and growls were heard as the creature circled them. "Okay, run, run, run, run, go, go, go!" Dean yelled, practically pushing the others to get them moving. Haley stuck close to Dean, while Ben ran after Sam, struggling to keep up with the longer legged man, before falling into the dirt. Sam stopped, running back to help him up - dividing the group into two and two.

"What? No, no! Don't split up!" Dean groaned, realizing the fact that Sam ran back to help Ben meant they were effectively broken apart, making the job of the wendigo that much easier. He couldn't exactly blame Sam though - leaving the teenager behind wasn't much of an option, it'd be like throwing a mouse in with a lion if his judgement on the creature was anywhere near the mark. All that aside though, splitting up while there was something after you was never a good idea, that much was just common sense.

"Come on, I gotcha, I gotcha." Sam breathed as he helped the boy to his feet.

John watched with something akin to curiosity. It was interesting to him, to see Sam in a hunt, even if his outward appearance was a stark contrast compared to what he saw when he looked at his twelve year old. Dean's hunting style he knew - it was a lot like his really. Offensive first, then if all else failed or if there were civilian's in the path of danger, then, defense. Sam's approach seemed to be nearly the exact opposite. He was a defender, not a confrontationalist. He'd stopped and run back for Ben without a second thought, and now that John thought about it, nearly everything his youngest son had done so far in terms of conflict was based on the drive to protect. He couldn't find it in himself to be too surprised.

Meanwhile, Dean and Haley stopped short, the latter screaming at the appearance of the wendigo in front of them.

"Haley?" Ben called out, recognizing his sister's cry as he and Sam came to an unsteady stop. Sam bent over, picking up Deans Molotov cocktail, the bottle at that point broken.

"Dean!"

Sam blinked, staring at the screen. He was kind of proud of his future self. Yeah, of course there was worry in his tone when he called out for Dean, but there wasn't panic or helplessness of any sort. Not that he'd ever admit it, but whenever there was trouble, his first instinct was to go to Dean to help, because his big brother would always be there for him. Whenever he couldn't get to him, however, there was an overwhelming fear that burrowed itself into him until his sibling's return that made him feel terribly small. It was a relief seeing that, at some point, that fear wouldn't make him freeze up and render him utterly useless.

"If it keeps its victims alive, why would it kill Roy?" Ben asked, looking at Sam expectantly.

"Honestly? I think because Roy shot at it, pissed it off." He replied.

"God knows he was pissing me off." Dean muttered, before feeling the odd flash of guilt that reminded him, yet again, that had been a real person. Or at least it would be. He still wasn't overly clear on the whole 'this is the future' idea yet. He'd chosen to bypass that whole clusterfuck of confusion for now, at least until they had some further validation as to where the discs were coming from.

A couple steps later, Ben bent down, seeing an M&M on the ground, then another. He picked one up.

"They went this way," he told Sam, who moved over to him, taking the candy and laughing.

"A candy trail, Dean? Really?" Sam asked, voice lighter than it had been in awhile, as he twisted his torso and craned his neck to look at his older brother. He rolled his eyes as Dean shot him a smug little smile, completely unfazed by the tease.

"Worked, didn't it?" He replied.

"It's better than breadcrumbs." he joked, throwing it away. The two followed the trail deeper into the forest, before coming to a mine entrance marked with a sign that read: WARNING! DANGER! DO NOT ENTER EXTREMELY TOXIC MATERIAL. Sam looked back at Ben, shrugged, and went inside. The teenager followed right after, ignoring the other sign that read: KEEP OUT NO ADMITTANCE.

Inside the mine, Sam shone the flashlight ahead of them as they advanced, before a low growl sounded from further down the tunnel. Sam shut off the light quickly, pulling Ben against the damp wall behind him protectively. They watched the silhouette of the wendigo advance towards them slowly.

"Oh shit." Dean breathed, eyes fixed on the inhuman shadow cast on the stone wall, moving steadily closer to Sam and the kid. He glanced away from the screen for a moment, looking to his father and Bobby, seeing similar looks of tension written into their faces as well. As quickly as he looked at them though, he turned back.

Quickly, Sam turned, pressing his hand against the boy's mouth so that he couldn't scream. The creature took a different tunnel upon coming to the crossing, and Sam released Ben and they continued forward.

Dean let out a breath he hadn't really been aware he'd been holding, he'd been too wrapped up in what was happening to really notice it. What he noticed now was that Sam let out a similar, if admittedly more shaky, breath.

A few steps later, there was a low creak from the floorboards, and the two fell through the tunnel, landing in a pile of bones. Ben spotted them and pushed himself away, leaning his body against Sam's legs. The younger Winchester placed a large hand on the boy's back.

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay." he repeated, trying to keep him calm and seeming to succeed.

Bobby was admittedly impressed with both how well the Ben kid was holding himself together, and the way Sam seemed to have a direct hand in keeping him calm. He knew from experience that people tended to panic, and when they did, it usually ended up bloody. He also knew that when you were hunting, keeping part of your mind dedicated to keeping a tagalong from having a complete flip out could be challenging, though Sam seemed to do it naturally, without a thought.

He looked up, then around, mouth opening in shock when he saw Dean and Haley hanging from the ceiling by their wrists. He pulled himself to his feet and rushed over to Dean while Ben attended to his sister.

"Dean!" He barked.

"Haley, wake up!"

Sam grabbed Dean and shook him hard. "Dean!" Slowly, the older Winchester opened his eyes. "Hey, you okay?" Sam asked, voice clearly relieved, despite Dean's wince.

"Well it's nice to know that I didn't get eaten." Dean muttered with a roll of his eyes.

"Yeah."

"Haley!" Ben continued. "Haley, wake up, wake up!" Ben urged, hands on his sister's shoulders. Sam cut the ropes that held Dean up as Ben did the same for Haley, the pair helping their loved ones over to an empty patch of floor and getting them sat down, Dean making a pained noise as they did so.

"You sure you're all right?" Sam asked. His brother grimaced in response.

"Yeah." He forced out. "Yep. Where is he?"

"He's gone for now." Sam replied, looking over his shoulder just in case while Haley divested herself of rope. She stoody, eyes widening as she saw Tom hanging nearby, tears falling down her face.

"Tommy.." She cried, touching his cheek. Upon the contact, Tom's head jerked up.

Sam jumped considerably at the man's sudden lurch back to consciousness. He felt heat rise under his skin as he did so, and he looked decidedly away from his brother, whose smug smile he felt rather than saw burning into his back. He told himself that his hyper awareness would be helpful in the future - since clearly he wasn't going to get away from hunting.

Haley jumped back and shrieked, before turning to Sam. "Cut him down!"

Quickly, Sam complied, and the three helped lower Tommy's limp body to the floor. "We're gonna get you home." Haley assured her brother. Dean looked over to the corner, spotting the stolen supplies from the campsite.

"Check it out," he called, holding up two pistols. Sam grinned.

"Flare guns. Those'll work." Dean twirled the guns.

They headed down a tunnel, Dean and Sam leading, each with a flare gun in hand, while Haley and Ben supported Tom just behind them. Suddenly, the wendigo's growl echoed through the abandoned mine.

"Looks like someone's home for supper." Dean's voice was more confident now that they had the flare guns.

"We'll never outrun it." Haley pointed out, drawing the older Winchester's attention. Dean looked to his younger brother and the two shared a quick, wordless conversation.

Bobby very nearly smiled as he saw the silent discussion. The boys tended to do that a lot, more often than they probably realized. It was like they had some secret language that nobody could quite understand except them, just because they knew each other so incredibly well. It was an advantage he'd sincerely hoped they'd utilize while hunting, and it was something positive in his eyes, that they seemed to have kept that bond.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Alright," Dean started. "Listen to me. Stay with Sam. Hes gonna get you out of here."

"What are you gonna do?" Haley asked. Dean winked before starting down a different corridor, yelling.

"Chow time, you freaky bastard! Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby, I taste good!"

There was collected eye-rolling throughout the room.

The farther he moved down the shaft (I feel the need to add that there is no innuendo intended here), the more indistinct his taunts became, leaving the other four alone in the darkness. Sam waited until Dean was a safe distance away before starting to usher the family out.

"All right, come on! Hurry!" The Collinses followed the hunter down the tunnel.

"Hey, you want some white meat, bitch I'm right here!" Dean yelled as light filtered in through some grating.

Meanwhile, Sam, Haley, Ben, and Tom rushed down a tunnel, realizing that they were quickly running out of time. They stilled at the sound of growls pursuing them.

"They aren't moving fast enough." Sam realized, speaking aloud almost on accident at it hit him. The wendigo was getting closer, too close, and though they were going as fast as they could, what with almost completely holding Tom up, it wasn't nearly enough. Apparently, his future self was realizing that too.

Sam turned, pointing the gun at it, before lowering it and turning to the other three.

"Get him out of here." He ordered, nodding to Tom.

"Sam, no." Haley objected.

"Go. Go! Go!" Sam yelled as the growling neared.

"Come on, Haley!" Ben urged, pulling his sister away. Finally, Haley turned, and she and her younger brother helped Tom along the mine tunnel, moving away and leaving Sam in his place, gun raised and ready to shoot, looking down the tunnel and waiting for the threat to appear.

"Come on. Come on." he urged in a soft tone. A growl rumbled out of the beast, close enough to make the rocks behind him tremble, and he turned, to see the wendigo right in his face.

Dean grimaced at the creature. Usually, whatever they were hunting looked human enough; demons, ghosts, werewolves even. At least they resembled humans part of the time. That thing though was ugly as hell. It's visage actually postponed the shock of it's right in front of Sammy for a full few seconds. Once that thought hit him, the grotesque look of the wendigo hardly seemed to matter.

Sam shot - and missed - before running after the other three.

"Sam!" Haley called as the hunter rejoined them.

"Come on, hurry, hurry, hurry!" Sam urged, pushing them along best he could until they reached the end of the tunnel, the wendigo right behind them.

"Get behind me." He stepped in front of them, his body almost large enough to keep all three Collinses behind him as the beast approached, taking it's time.

Dean appeared behind it. "Hey!" he yelled.

There, John saw it yet again, the protective nature springing up in Sam. He wasn't taunting or moving forward to in any way fight the creature. He just stood there, arms out, a firm and steady wall between the threat and the civilians because that was just what he did. And then Dean was behind the creature, ready to attack while his brother defended - both ends of a spectrum working in imperfect, effective tandem.

The wendigo barely had time to turn before Dean shot it in the stomach, flare going off and setting the creature aflame. "Not bad, huh?" he asked. Sam grinned.

Outside the Ranger Station, an ambulance loaded up Tom. Two police officers were interviewing Ben, Sam just behind the teenager, nodding as he gave some story about a nine hundred pound grizzly.

Haley walked next to Dean, both having already been patched up by the EMTs.

"So I don't know how to thank you." She started. Dean smirked lasciviously, and Haley grinned despite herself.

"Must you cheapen the moment?" She asked.

"Yeah." Dan replied, as a paramedic approached her.

That answer surprised literally nobody in the room.

"You riding with your brother?" he asked.

"Yeah." She answered, looking to Ben as the paramedic moved back to the ambulance. "Let's go." Ben nodded at Sam, who smiled and nodded back, clapping his hand against the boy's shoulder once.

"Awww." Dean cooed. "Sammy made a friend!"

"Shut up."

Haley pressed a kiss to Dean's cheek.

"I hope you find your father." She told him before they both walked toward the ambulance. "Thanks Sam." She added. They climbed into the emergency vehicle with their brother, who was shirtless and bandaged.

Sam sat on the hood of the Impala next to his brother.

"Man, I hate camping." Dean deadpanned.

"Me too." As the noise of the siren faded away some, Dean looked over.

"Sam, you know we're gonna find Dad, right?"

"Yeah, I know." He replied tiredly. "But in the meantime? I'm driving." He added with a weak smile. Dean tossed the keys upward, and Sam snatched them out of the air eagerly. The two got into the Impala, slamming the doors in unison.

The disc faded to black, just as the first one had, though this one left a considerably less tense and horrified atmosphere. In fact, the silence that followed was thoughtful but surprisingly light, even if the underlying wariness of whoever (or whatever) was giving them these glimpses into the future returned.

"Wendigo." John finally said aloud, voice musing, thoughtful. He grabbed his journal and a nearby pen, flipping the book open to a blank page and scrawling the word in the top corner. He looked up at Bobby. "Think we should look into it? See if it's actually a creature or not?" He asked, speculation slipping back into his voice.

"Well, diggin' deeper can't hurt." The older hunter replied. "I'll see what I can find. I'm also gonna take a look into Oracles, see if I can find anything with the juice to show us all this." He gestured vaguely toward the TV as Sam reclaimed the disc, slipping it back in the paper sleeve and setting it on the table between his father and Bobby.

"Okay." John replied with a nod.

Across the street, just below the flickering glow of an old streetlight, three men stood, their figures almost obscured silhouettes.

"I still am not sure I understand why we are doing this." The first one, the tallest finally spoke. He glanced at his companions, high cheekbones throwing shadows across his face as he tilted his head downward some.

"Does it really matter?" The second speaker, also second in terms of height and physical stature, asked. His voice was lighter, accented, and carried an air of sarcasm nearly impossible to miss. As he spoke, his light blue eyes didn't tear from the motel, and his expression was almost bored.

"I believe it does." The first figure replied simply, eyes flicking toward the window of the room that housed the Winchesters. He placed his hands in the pockets of his jacket, the leather making a soft noise that blended with the chirp of crickets.

"Oh come on boys," The last man grinned, his smile purely mischievous as he turned toward the two of them, "Have a little faith, would ya?"

So. There's that. Anybody have any guesses as to who our three mystery characters are? Guess right and you get a cyber cookie! Anyway, all that aside, I just want to thank everybody who's reading this - it means a lot. As always, reviews, follows, PMs and the like are always gratefully accepted, and I'll see you all next chapter!

~TheFallenArchangel