Title: Snowed In
Disclaimer: Teen for angstiness among other things and they are on my Christmas list
The crack-fire from Dean's rifle barreled through the chilly air, the iron finding its mark in the clawed beast threatening to rip the older man to shreds. A whining howl echoed in Dean's ears as the furry creature fell to its death at the Winchester's feet, its dying breaths shallow and eerie.
"Sam! I got it!" The older brother yelled over his shoulder excitedly. Their hunt had been hard and the piling snow and frigid air hadn't made it any easier.
"Coming your way!" Sam hollered from the foot of the hill where he had been waiting lest the monster chose a different method of attack. The younger brother trudged as quickly as he could up the slope, the cool snow dampening his pant legs and causing him to shiver.
Dean turned when he heard Sam's approach from behind and shouldered his rifle proudly, "See, what'd I tell you. Nothing to it."
"Right," Sam breathed, looking past his brother to the pile of the dead furry mass--the dead furry mass that was moving. "Dean! Drop!"
Dean's eyes widened in panic and he threw a cautionary, curious glance over his shoulder, his mouth dropping in disbelief as a wide, black paw bearing six razor-sharp claws swung out at him. Throwing his hands out in front of him, Dean twisted his body in attempt to avoid the threatening claws and dropped to the ground. A cry fell from his lips as the tips of the menacing claws graced his back, punctuated by the booming sound of two gunshots as Sam finished the job Dean had started.
Sam stood frozen stiff for a minute, his heavy breaths shown in white puffs in the cold air as he lowered the gun and willed his feet to move from their place and toward his brother. Dean was writhing on the snowy ground, his face scrunched in pain. Sam worked his long legs through the snow mounds between him and his brother, dropping to his knees as he reached his goal, and grimacing at the damp wetness infiltrating his jeans.
"Dean?" Sam asked, his voice almost a whisper in the whipping torrent of wind, "You okay, man?"
Dean nodded shortly, a mask of indifference slamming into place, "Yeah, I'm good. Bastard scratched me."
"Oh," the younger brother muttered, tilting his head and eyeing his brother's back. The tears in the back of Dean's coat were also through the two shirts and undershirt his brother had put on that morning and Sam could see the small trails of blood through the holes. Dean shivered jerkily and Sam's attention was brought back to his brother. "Okay, let's get back to the cabin. It's getting worse out here."
"Yeah," Dean agreed, clenching his jaw as he pushed himself up into a stand, swatting away Sam's outstretched hands offering to help. "Damn, burn another clip in that thing."
"They don't look that deep. I can fix them." Sam commented, rolling his eyes at his brother's exaggerated plight. "You'll be fine."
"Says the geek," Dean smirked and straightened out his back with a grunt. "But you're cleaning the snow off my baby's windshield and windows. I'm injured here."
Sam laughed heartily, his teeth taking to chattering, and both brothers hustled their steps. "Whatever you say, man."
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Sam shuddered against the cool leather interior of the car, not at all thrilled that he could see his breath in the slowly warming Impala. After they got out of the encroaching blizzard conditions, Sam was seriously going to force Dean's hand and get him to fix the damn heat. Slowly, the younger Winchester eased the car out of the snow drift and onto the ice-slicked road.
Dean lay propped against the passenger door, his body leaning forward so that no part of his back hit the seat. Sam gave his brother a sympathetic glance and a concerned smile before refocusing his attention onto the glazed asphalt.
"I'm freezing!" Sam stated more than obviously through his clattering teeth, reaching out and flicking the heat up further.
"Yeah, college boy, we're in Nowhere, Colorodo in the middle of damn winter," Dean replied, giving his brother an annoyed glance. "Some great idea for a hunt you had there."
"Hey, there wasn't much else to choose from," Sam defended, feigning hurt at his brother's words, "It was either this or that haunted old folks home. And I know how well you get along with grandmas."
"C'mon, man, old people love me," Dean shot back, a grimace replacing his smirk seconds later as he shifted in his seat.
"Right," Sam drawled in mock agreement, leaning forward and squinting his eyes to see through the white haze falling faster by the second. The side road exit was barely visible, and had it not been for Dean's less than normal volume insinuation that Sam didn't know where the hell he was going, little brother would've missed the turn completely.
A few more feet of crunching snow beneath the Impala's wheels brought the rustic hunting cabin they had squatted in for the past few days into view. Sam eased the car as close to the covered porch as he could before wrapping his jacket tightly around him and exiting the car. Dean followed his lead and quickly joined his brother on the wooden porch, stomping the snow off his boots.
The cabin was small, nothing more than a living room shared kitchen, a tiny bathroom, and one bedroom furnished with only a twin bed and an army-style cot, which Sam had been delegated by Dean to sleep in because big brother's needed more room to move around. Never mind the fact that little brother was a friggen' Jolly Green Giant and could barely manage to curl up on the cot, let alone keep from falling out of it all night.
Sam groaned as he stepped across the threshold, the heat radiating from the stand-up heater in the corner created a prickly sensation on his freezing skin. Instinctively, he moved toward the source of warm comfort, rubbing his hands together furiously and waiting for the chill to seep out of his bones. Dean laughed as he entered the cabin and saw his brother hunched over the heater, shedding his coat gingerly and shuffling toward the bathroom. He was just as cold, but a hot shower would do the trick if not better than the heater.
"Did you bring the first aid kit in?" Sam questioned, shouldering off his jacket coat and watching Dean try and hide a wince as the older brother searched for clean clothes.
"Nope," Dean replied with a smirk, "It's in the car."
The bathroom door slammed with finality and Sam shook his head in irritation and defeat, before thrusting his arms through the jacket holes and stomping back out the car to retrieve Dean's aid. While in the process, the younger brother snagged a few extra blankets from the trunk because he was sure the temperature was going to further drop well below ass-biting before the night was over.
Upon re-entering the cabin, Sam heard the creaking sound of the shower turning off and hastily laid out the limited medical supplies on the tattered sofa and sat in wait for Dean to come and join him in the living room. He didn't have to wait long. Within a couple minutes, Dean sauntered down the hallway, clothed in pajama bottoms, a long sleeve Tee clutched in his right hand.
"What am I a piece of meat to you?" Dean asked in feigned horror, eyes wide and shimmering with barely contained laughter. Sam blushed instantly, fire appearing on his cheeks as he dropped his head and stared at anything but his brother's bare chest as Dean circled round to plop down along side him on the sofa, back turned to Sam.
"No, but that thing sure thought you were," Sam grimaced as he studied the six scratches laced diagonal along his brother's back. Picking up a small towel, he liberally poured the antiseptic onto it and issued a warning before placing the drenched cloth on his brother's already red back.
"Dammit, Sammy!" Dean yelled, jerking forward and writhing against the hissing burn.
"Sorry..." Sam apologized nervously, as he frantically tried to remove the cloth that was agonizing his brother. "Sorry."
"Its o-okay," Dean breathed shakily in relief as the burn of the alcohol lessened considerably.
Sam gently probed the scratches, wincing right along side his brother with every sharp intake of breath Dean pulled in. "They don't look deep. You're not gonna need stitches or anything, but they are a little red."
"Yeah, Sam, that's kind of normal when you get scratched." Dean grunted, slipping his shirt on and easing off the couch.
"We don't want them to get infected," Sam stated worriedly, standing up.
Dean sighed and swatted playfully at his little brother's head, "You worry too much. It's fine. Now, let's get some sleep so we can get the hell out of here in the morning. God, I hate snow."
Sam laughed at his brother's obvious disgust for the white wetness and nodded his agreement. "Sounds like a plan."
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Sam was freezing. No, scratch that, Sam was miserable and freezing. The two wool blankets and worse for wear comforter he had bundled around him were doing zilch to quell the frigid chill plaguing his body and keeping sleep at bay. With an irritated huff, the younger Winchester swung his legs over the edge of the cot, his socked feet connecting with the cold wood.
"Dean?" Sam whispered hoarsely, because hell, if he was miserable, Dean was probably miserable too or, well, he should be. "Dean?"
A weak groan was all Sam got in reply and he stood up, blankets wrapped around him tight and shuffled over to his brother's bed, "Move over, man. I'm freezing!"
Dean made no such inclination to move or even acknowledge the fact that Sam was hovering over him, teeth chattering at mega volume. Sam sighed, determined, and dumped the blankets on the other side of Dean's bed before almost jumping over his brother's sleeping form and sliding under the pile of covers as fast as he possibly could.
"Don't w-worry, Dean," Sam shivered with a bark of laughter, dangerously close to snuggling, "I w-won't tell if you won't."
As Sam sought to find a comfortable position, his arm connected with Dean's injured back and he sucked in a terrified gasp as he turned to see if he'd disturbed his brother. But Dean hadn't moved. Sam's brow furrowed in thought and he brought his offending arm to his chest, cradling his elbow.
Sam withdrew his hand almost instantly as his fingers found wetness slicked against his arm and the younger brother swallowed thickly as he reached out to shake his brother's shoulder, "Dean? Wake up, man."
When Dean didn't respond, Sam bolted into action. He was off the bed in a flash searching out the nearest light source, nearly knocking the lap over in the process as he hustled back to his brother's side. The very breath surging through him was sucked out into nothing but a stunned gape as Sam dropped to his knees and brought a hand to Dean's sweating brow.
Fire burned beneath the younger man's hand, and Sam gently slapped the side of Dean's face coaxing the older man to wake. Sam allowed himself the luxury of breathing only when Dean's eyes fluttered, coming only to half mast. "Okay, Dean, stay with me, okay? God, you're burning up."
"'t...h-hurts," Dean moaned and leaned into Sam's cool touch, the sweat glistening off his face and coating Sam's hand with its salty wetness.
Sam's heart raced in full-fledged panic. "What hurts, Dean? You're back? Does your back hurt?"
Fear found its grip as Dean only moaned and sought to bury his sweaty head deeper into the pillow and away from the bright intrusion of light and Sam's concerned face. The younger brother slowly peeled back the mound of covers on top of Dean, revealing sweat soaked clothes and sheets beneath. The cuts were infected, Sam knew it and biting his lower lip, he slowly lifted the bottom of Dean's T-shirt to study the scratches that earlier had posed little threat.
Sam's body convulsed, throat extending to fulfill his stomach's desire to retch until he simply couldn't anymore as the small scratches laced with red hours before were now deepening slashes of scarlet oozing a thick blackness that coated every inch of Dean's back.
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Please let me know what you think and if I should continue! Reviews would make me one happy X-5!
Monti Cora