Written for Lamiajade, based on her drabble:: Out of the Dark
Beta'd by the brilliant BAMF, enviousxbeauty

Walking in Darkness

Chapter One: Hanging by a Hope

Dean was used to waking up in darkness and pain.

Not to long ago he'd woken up in darkness to hear doors slamming and a fight starting. There had been painful heartache as he sat up and watched his only father order his only brother away. It hadn't been long after that Dean had been hunting more on his own. Not that John was ready for Dean to leave, but he needed space. They both did, to try and deal.

This time though, when he woke up, he knew the situation was worse than usual.

The icy cold bit into his bones and the darkness teased him. He tried to move from his cramped position, but he was stuck. Ropes dug into his wrists and left him to dry against the stone wall.

Dean tried to gauge how long he'd been here. With no light, he had to assume it had been a while. There was dripping noise echoing in the cave. He first assumed it was water, but as it trickled down his lanky frame he made a new realization.

He was bleeding from a gash across his torso. His useless arms sagged, as he grunted in pain. His cries echoed and reminded him again he was alone. So he escaped the only way he could: into unconsciousness.

He awoke in memories he'd been trying to avoid. Wondering again if he had pushed Sam away… Shaking it off, he opened his eyes hoping something had changed. Nothing at all was different; he was still trapped in the dark cavern.

Dean noticed it wasn't as cold anymore, but that just meant he had a fever. He swore; this was not the type of change he had wanted.

The pain changed from a dull throbbing in his, potentially, dislocated shoulder to fire across his chest and he started screaming again.

He had to force himself to think about something else besides the pain. Immediately, one thing came to mind. But he couldn't think about that, not that day almost two months ago, not when he lost it all. He tried remembering what he had been hunting.

Bear mauling. Every 15 years, couple of campers had gone missing.

Oh yeah, Wendigo.

And dad was one state over, three days away from their meeting time hunting a black dog. Why did he get the easy cases?

Dean tried again to judge how long he'd been there. The Wendigo would be back soon, and he had to be ready. He didn't think he could be ready to see the gaunt skeletal creature again, with its gruesome features distorted by years of savagery.

If only Dad could finish early, come looking… But Dad still wasn't the same since Sam left. Sam left two months ago and Dean was still sitting in that motel room starring at them, wondering what he'd done wrong. He'd followed every order, done everything asked, and yet…

Here he was alone, strung up like a piece of meat on the rack. He looked up as he heard footsteps approaching. Dean furrowed his brow. If only he could reach his cell phone in his back pocket…If only Dad was there… If only Sam hadn't left him…If only he wasn't completely useless....

"Hey Dean."

"Sam!" he grunted. At the back of his mind a tiny voice a little voice groaned: Oh great. You must be hurt worse than you thought.

Sam looked at him with cool calculating eyes. A serene calm floated around him as he stood before Dean smiling the same quirky grin with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. Dean noticed, he was even wearing the same thing he was wearing two moths ago. Sam looked him over, tsking. "What have you gotten yourself into?"

Dean blushed. "I don't know, Sammy…" Then with hesitance he stumbles out, "Did you come back for me?"

Sam shook his head sadly. "No. I just came to say goodbye."

Dean struggled to move more, just an inch more away from the wall. "No wait…Sam…"

"It's not your fault Dean. I just can't live this way." Sam said shaking his head as he faded into the shadows.

Dean started to tremble. His frail frame shook, half out of cold, and half in an attempt to jar his cell phone from its resting place in his back pocket.

He could feel the hard metal lump remain motionless.

Exhaustion came over him again.

o-o-o-o-o-o

"Bobby, look, I just don't know…" John sighed as he continued to pack things away into his duffle.

"He's your son ain't he?" Bobby growled into the phone.

"Well yeah, but he said he wanted to go!" John defended. He looked around the motel room and double checked everything suspicious was gone.

"John, kids say a lot of things, generally it don't amount to shit." Bobby took a deep breath. "You should call him and talk."

"Bobby…"

"For Dean."

John froze mid-stride. "What do you mean?"

Bobby's voice cackled through the line as John moved out of the motel to his truck. "I'm just saying, Dean's just as torn up about this as you are. Family means everything to the boy."

John sat in his truck. "Alright," he conceded, "you might be right."

Bobby adjusted his hat. "Damn right I am."

"Talk to you later Bobby."

"Alright John."

After he hung up John threw the phone down in the empty passenger seat. He leaned his head against the driving wheel and took a deep breath. He just couldn't talk to Sam…not yet… but Dean, ah hell… John picked up his cell phone. He could at least call Dean and check in on him. They hadn't been talking enough lately.

The phone seemed to ring and ring and just when he thought he was going to lose his nerve the other end picked up.

"Dean?" he asked.

There wasn't any response but John could hear noises.

A soft moaning, something like… "..S'mmy… you still there?"

A dripping echoed. Footsteps were in the distance.

Then a crunch.

And a scream.

John recognized that scream.

He threw his car into gear and flew down the road.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Just a snack…just a snack," the Wendigo kept hissing, "just one tiny bite till dinner…"

The Wendigo busied himself looking around its cave. He couldn't remember which cavern held its meal of the day. The Wendigo chuckled dryly when he found the blonde he'd left out to dry.

He tilted his head and looked at the strange little human, it seemed to be talking to itself. The Wendigo mused over the strange behavior. He chucked a hefty rock at it, which smacked hard against the boy's leg.

Dean yelped and jerked awake to see the Wendigo who smiled at him with cracked and ugly teeth.

"No, no," Dean yelled with false bravado, "Get away from me you damn fugly!"

The Wendigo touched him gently with his claws. "Hmm, oh yes, do I save it for later or now? …Just one morsel!"

Dean kicked out with his good leg catching the Wendigo in off guard. He stumbled backwards and glared at Dean.

"Later." He decided coldly.

As soon as the Wendigo was out of sight, Dean dropped his head. Sam leaned against the cave wall next to him. "Things don't look good, Dean." Sam said causally. "Not at all."

Dean gave his brother a sideways glance. "Sam… are you going to be helpful are not?"

Sam shrugged. "I have a test in the morning, I can't right now."

Dean remembered that excuse. He hated it, because it usually meant Dean had to go dig up graves by himself and pick up Sam's slack. But now… he just took comfort in the voice. "Sam?"

"Yeah, Dean?"

"Don't you think…couldn't you call Dad once in awhile?"

Sam looked at him. "You know your imagining this right? I can't help you."

"You never could."

"What?"

"Go away Sam, I don't need you…" Dean muttered as he started to fade in and out.

Sam shrugged and disappeared.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

John glared at his speed gauge and willed it to go faster. He rolled through another small town with a 35 mile an hour limit in just seconds flat.

Soon enough the state was covered in his tire marks.

When he rolled into the town where he knew Dean was, he quickly located the Impala at the edge of a very gloomy forest. He parked beside the vehicle he trusted to take care of his son and jumped out.

Grabbing anything that could kill, he ran into the forest. The Marine Corp may have trained him to be a tracker, but he'd trained his sons expertly in how to cover up their tracks.

But John Winchester was on a mission and the rules of gravity, physics, and space be damned- he would find his son.

o-o-o-o-o

The gash across Dean's torso was tormenting him. It made every movement of his ten times worse. He listened to his surroundings as he tried to hear for anyone else.

He sat idle with no breath, nor motion…

All he heard was the drip. Drip. Drip.

But then- A roar.

A shot fired.

And a dying screech.

Well, Dean thought sadly, now I really am alone.

Leather clad, gun smoking, and determination written in stone, John Winchester ran into the cavern and momentarily lost his nerve. Pulling himself together, he pulled apart the rope that held his son against the stone wall. "Dean? Hey, hey c'mon son, open your eyes. That's an order…"

Dean fell into his arms like ton of bricks. Looking up at John, Dean managed a weary grin before he mouthed, "Yessir."

Dean closed his eyes. John looked down at him, and noticed how small he was in his arms. He also noticed the swollen arm, way Dean's right leg looked like the shin was fractured, the bleeding cuts, and most of all he noticed how tired Dean was.

He ran out of the cave, and sprinted to his truck.

As he pulled up to the hospital fear twisted and squirmed in his gut. Dean had moved barely on the ride over, but it was enough that John knew he would be okay.

John didn't know what he'd do if he lost one his of sons again.

After placing him in the Emergency Room care he sat in the waiting room, alternating between pacing and sitting still.

He pulled out his phone and looked at it.

He could call Sam… tell him about Dean, apologize, say hello- say, "I miss you…"

But ignorance was bliss, and it was easier to stay in the dark.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Sam unlocked his door and walked into the small apartment. He sighed and threw down his book bag. After spending the last four hours at the library studying, he was tired. He changed his clothes he sat on the edge of his bed. He picked up his phone from the bedside table.

He knew the number his fingers were aching to dial.

But he wasn't ready to talk and say hello, apologize, or even admit how much he missed the Impala's interior filled with music and laughs. Besides, he had the nagging feeling that Dean was to busy for him at the moment. He stood up and turned off his lamp, and let the apartment fall into darkness.

.:To Be Continued:.