Before You Ketch Me

I leaned back against the passenger door and sighed. The last two years had been rough for us. Between John getting more and more lost in a bottle, monsters, and demons becoming more of a regular, and trying to keep Sam's secret, I was beat. Things seemed to have finally come to a head about a month ago. Sam had had another argument with John and it had finally ended with Sam having enough. Nothing I could try to say to him would've stopped him, even if I had tried instead of handing him a stack of cash and hugging him one last time. At least they hadn't gotten violent this time. A black eye was the last thing Sam needed to leave with.

I let my head fall back, enjoying the warmth the top of John's black Impala gave off even with the hazy St. Paul, Minnesota sky. John had sent Dean and me out alone, deciding himself to stay at Bobby's til we got back. 

'This will be a test to see how well you both work together.' he had grumbled a few mornings ago. 'This should be easy. Don't fuck it up.'

I sighed again as I heard the door of the small gas station we'd parked outside open and footsteps approaching the car.

"Don't lean against her like that," Dean grumbled as he got closer. "It's disrespectful."

He was twenty-two now. And had a lot of balls to show for it. He had somehow gotten more arrogant than when we were kids. A part of me felt bad for him. The oldest sibling who was trying to earn the respect of a father who would never see him as more than a burden or tool.

"It's a car, Dean. I'm sure it's seen worse." I huffed but pushed off the car and rounded the hood to join him.

Dean rolled his bright green eyes at my response. "Just don't dent it. Dad barely agreed to let me take her out anyway."

"Right. High and mighty John's orders must be followed to a tee." It was my turn to roll my eyes.

"Will you please…" Dean started, but cut himself off, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and sighed again, "Let's just go over the map again." He said as he laid a paper road map out on the hood.

I frowned and gently bumped him with my hip as I stood next to him. A small gesture that had become a silent way to apologize to him. After all. He was hurting over losing Sam too. And I couldn't forget the late-night conversations we'd had after. The way he had cried out those feelings for only me to share in. It had brought us much closer than I had ever thought we would be.

"We're working with a wendigo, right?" I asked, leaning against him. He'd gotten significantly taller over the last few years, the perfect height for me to rest my head on his shoulder. "So we should look around this wooded area by the river." I pointed to a section of the map that was shaded in green, indicating a protected recreational area along the south of the city.

"Right. A lot of the disappearances are happening along here." Dean pointed to a small area of the Cherokee Regional Park that went right along the Mississippi River. "I would assume that the thing is hiding right off the trail or pretty close."

"Do we have any sightings? Any survivors that could give us a better pinpoint?" I asked. I had read through the files Dean had found on the most recent disappearances, but they were not nearly as detailed as Sam's had been.

"I couldn't find anything about any." He sighed. "But enough people are going missing here, and here… " He pointed out another area several miles down the river from the other. "That I think it's safe to say we know where to at least start looking."

"You think it would get that close to a road? Wouldn't it get spooked or need more space?" I asked, looking over the map again.

"Who knows? These things don't seem to be the smartest." Dean shrugged, soft enough not to disturb where I still leaned against him.

"How often are people disappearing? I thought these things hybernated for a while after they stocked up." I pushed off of him and walked back around to the passenger side of the car.

"There's been ten so far this year. The last time there was this many was around six years ago." Dean said as he put the map away and went to the driver's side. "All in the same area."

"Guess we're going camping then." I joked before sliding into the seat and closing the door.

It didn't take us that long to get ready. We didn't even bother with looking for a motel to stay in for the night. Not when we were both certain this wouldn't take more than a night to clear out and the Impala was comfortable enough to sleep in if we had to. The sun was just starting to turn deep orange as it set against the trees as we parked.

"You're sure the gas is full on that thing?" I asked Dean as he slung a backpack full of supplies over his shoulder. 

"Yup. I filled up a small can back at the gas station when we filled up Baby. Used that to make sure we were good to go." He said a stupid grin on his face.

"Did you…did you name the car?" I asked, only in slight disbelief. He'd had a knack for naming inanimate objects since we'd been younger, but this was the first thing in a long time.

"What if I did?" He shot back at me, smiling dropping slightly. "Not like Dad takes care of her like he should. I'm the one who helps Bobby with all the work. I should have the right to name her."

"And you went with 'Baby'?" I teased now, closing the trunk after making sure my pack was filled.

"Well, I wasn't gonna name her KITT. That's already taken." Dean shrugged.

I laughed a little. "Right, wouldn't want to rip off 'Knight Rider'."

Dean playfully shoved me a little, laughing now too. "At least you got the reference." He started to walk towards the path that would start us off on the trail.

"Oh right," I said as I followed him. "Because I could forget all the nights you'd make us watch reruns of it."

"Hey, it's a classic that needs to be shared with the newer generations." Dean ruffled my short hair as I walked next to him.

I punched him lightly in response. "I'm two years younger than you."

"Exactly." He laughed. "Newer generation."

I laughed and punched at him again. But Dean dodged this one, laughing more as he jumped away. I smiled at him as his green eyes glittered with the sound. This had been our routine since Sam had left. Follow orders, go on hunts with or without John, and keep each other laughing and smiling so we couldn't think about anything else. Like how Dean had admitted the night after Sam left, that he had always wanted out too. He wanted a family, to be a good dad, and to never have to look over his shoulder for a monster again. But he didn't feel like he could leave now. If he did, John would slip further until he drank himself too deep, and it would be Dean's fault.

I kept the smile on my face as I pushed the thoughts away again. He didn't need to know I was thinking about it again. Not when he had been trying too hard to keep that smile on his face. Not when this was the first time in a long time, that his laugh felt real.

We fell silent as we got to the tree line. Staying quiet and listening for anything that could be suspicious would be key now. At least, if we wanted to stay alive and actually kill these things.

The Brickyard Hiking Trail wasn't a particularly long one, but it was the one that seemed to go straight through the area of disappearances. We'd picked the point that started just off Cherokee Heights. It was about a half mile from the center point of all the disappearances. A ten-minute hike, but with the sun already turning the leaves more yellow than green, it would land us around the perfect time to hunt the fuckers down.

The leaves under our feet, the birds and insects in the trees, and the occasional passing hiker on the trail were the only sounds for a while. It would have been enjoyable. To pretend to be normal and just on a hike with my stepbrother. This peaceful place was in between our normal and the normal of people who had no idea what was out there. I was lost in the thought of it all when I collided with Dean's arm. I was about to protest when I heard the difference in our surroundings. In the growing shadows of dusk, there was only the roar of the distant river now.

I turned to Dean, locking my amber-brown eyes with his deep forest green. He nodded and took a step toward the edge of the trail. I looked around, finally taking in our surroundings fully. And there they were, clear as day. Two paths clawed into the dirt as if human hands had tried to stop themselves from being taken from the path. Long deep gouges that had taken small pebbles and roots up with them. And along the side of a tree, not far from where the trees began, there were several long scratches. They looked as if a large predator had cut deep into the bark, effortlessly cutting the wood beneath.

I followed Dean as he walked off the path, following the scratches and tears through the trees and underbrush. It wasn't hard. It looked like the thing didn't care about the tracks it left behind. Long, pointed footsteps led most of the way when there weren't claw marks through the trunks of trees. And then the blood splatters came, painting another picture of whatever had happened to its victim, and telling us just how recent it had been.

We climbed over stones and tree roots. Through soft mud and prickly bushes until we were a good distance from where the trail had been and the tracks stopped. We stood there, in a small clearing, nothing but the sound of a small natural spring running through the dirt to break the silence. We shifted and circled until we were back to back, never taking our eyes off of the too-quiet world around us.

An air-piercing scream shattered the world. We turned in opposite directions, having heard it come from somewhere the other hadn't. It had sounded so human, so close to something we should run towards to help. Something we should be defending. But Dean and I knew better. We knew of the tricks with mimicry these monsters played.

I slowly, shrugged out of my pack, never taking my eyes away from the growing shadows as I rummaged through it. I hadn't asked Dean how he had managed to make these things. The makeshift flame thrower that I had memorized putting together for this exact moment, looked like it could've been made by a child. The main body was made out of two tubes of metal, with plastic tubing that braided around it from a small air canister and trigger near the curved pipe that served as the butt. A separate metal canister, that once held nail polish remover, hung off the lower tube near the end of it and was now filled with diesel. The nozzle of the monstrosity was nothing more than an old beer can with the bottom sawed off roughly welded, with the help of Bobby, to the top metal tube. I honestly wasn't sure the damn thing would work, but Bobby had sworn up and down that it would. 

As soon as I had the thing screwed together and held firmly in my grip, I slowly stood back up, and Dean took his turn. When we were standing again, the trees now starting to play tricks with the growing shadows, we both started the flames. With just the light from the small flickering flames to guide us, the shadows seemed to start to dance. That was all the thing needed to start hunting us.

It tried its best. Calling with everything it could think of to get us to flinch. Screams for help from the children, men, and women it had taken. It was one that eerily sounded like Sam that almost did me in. The cry that almost made me take a step towards the beast I knew was prowling in the darkness. But it wouldn't get me that easily.

The pressure of Dean's back against mine kept me rooted to the ground. Reminded me that Sam was safe. Not with us, but on his own adventure. I had just heard from him this morning, he was busy forging documents that would get him into a good school with a decent scholarship. It made me take a deep breath and center myself again.

But that noise, the barely audible sound of my breath leaving through my nose, was just enough to make the thing in the night finally strike. It lunged, the disgustingly pale, elongated humanoid briefly illuminated by the fire shot from Dean's flamethrower before it disappeared into the shadows again. But I didn't dare turn to him more. Didn't dare take my eyes off the spot it had just vanished through. Didn't dare think about anything other than the monster trembling through the brush before me.

I steadied the flamethrower, trying to pinpoint where the thing would come from next. But the crashing through the brush, it was loud enough that I wasn't sure where it was anymore. Or that there was more than one of them. That was the thought that finally had me spinning to Dean.

"Duck!" Was all I yelled at him before there was another monster crashing from a neighboring tree.

Dean hit the dirt, fast enough that the thing just barely graced its long, disgusting, yellow claws over his back. It was enough to cut through the old t-shirt he had been wearing, but not enough to cut his skin. I was fast enough to catch the thing with the tail end of a torrent of flame. Just enough that it hissed out an inhuman sound as it fell back into the shadows. 

"I think there's two," I said as Dean got back to his feet.

"Wonderful." He grunted. I could just see the shadow of blood dripping from his hand as he resituated his flamethrower. He must have cut it on a stone.

I took a step closer to him, wanting to feel his side against mine in the dark once more, but the things in the dark had other plans. One of them suddenly sprung from my right, forcing me to throw myself backward. My back hit the ground hard, temporarily knocking the wind from me enough for the monster ot pounce over me.

Its breath smelled like a rotting corpse as it screamed at me, a bone-rattling, animalistic sound no one could ever forget. Its bony limbs held me to the ground by my biceps, unimaginable strength behind its starved body as it towered over me. It took everything in me not to close my eyes as it lowered its face to my neck and breathed me in. Like it was savoring the smell of a freshly baked pie. 

"Get away from me!" I growled at it.

I forced the hand that still held the flamethrower up, and tried to aim for the things head, even as it dug those knife-sharp nails into me. I screamed as I pulled the trigger and a burning fire rolled over me, colliding with the thing but making it let go of me. 

I scrambled backward, ignoring the burning warmth that crawled up my neck and face as the cooler air hit it. I looked around, trying to find Dean. Where the fuck had he gone? Had the other one taken him down while the first had distracted me? No way. He was smarter than it, he would defeat it.

I got to my feet, wincing as my hips and back protested the move. I could flounder under the weight of them later. This thing needed to stay dead, and I needed to find Dean. 

I turned back to the monster, the thing now trying with failing strength to rid its body of its charred skin. It hissed and screamed and whined those unnatural, inhuman sounds as I approached it again. There was still fight in its eyes as I aimed several feet away, and it almost seemed to ready itself to put up more of a fight. Though it didn't get much of a chance when it leaped at me, and I doused it in beautiful, cleansing fire.

Its charred body hit the warm, damp earth a foot away from me. I gave myself a moment to breathe before I started frantically looking around for any sign of Dean. There didn't seem to be any, as if the thing had scooped him up and left nothing behind.

"Dean!" I screamed into the darkness.

There was no response.

"Dean!" I tried again.

As if in answer, a sudden plume of firelight came from my left. I lept towards the trees, not caring about the small cuts and scrapes the brambles would leave me with. 

"Dean!" I yelled.

I hurtled through the undergrowth as another streak of fire shot through the foliage. I was winded as I pushed through to another small clearing, just as the charred body of the other Wendigo hit the ground in front of me. I screamed in fear, only to realize it was dead seconds later. I panted, staring down at the thing for far longer than I should have before looking around the clearing.

"Dean?!" I yelled once more.

"Up here…" finally came his groggy reply.

I looked up. And there he was, at the edge of the clearing, halfway up a tree and clinging to its branches like a terrified cat. I let out a long sigh and started to laugh just a little.

"Uh huh…" Dean grumbled. "Just get me the fuck down from here."

We burned the bodies as much as we could in the clearing without damaging too much of the surrounding area. When we were done, we let the flamethrowers cool in the small natural spring before putting them in our packs again. Then it was the ten-minute walk back to where we had left the car. We were both sore to the soul once the impala was in sight.

"I'm gonna need at least a few drinks." Dean mused as he chucked his backpack into the trunk. "And a damn pie."

I chuckled softly. "Just because you were stuck in a tree?" 

"Hey." He snapped, though his tone was as teasing as mine had been. "A fear of heights is no joke."

I laughed more, tucking my pack into the trunk before closing it. "Right. We should get those cuts cleaned up first though."

He'd gotten the better draw when it came to damage this time around. Just a few knicks and a nice gash along his upper arm where the thing had tried to hold on to him as it ran. But it didn't look like it would need stitches, and there was a medical kit in the glove box.

"You first," Dean said. "You can't hide those shoulders from me."

I shrugged. "I'll let you do them after you let me look at that cut."

"Throw in a pie on the way home and we have a deal." He grinned at me as he slid into the back seat, his feat hanging out the door.

I rolled my eyes and smiled back at him as I grabbed the kit. There wasn't a lot to it. Gauze, bandaids, alcohol to clean wounds, medical tape to keep gauze in place, and an emergency set of sutures and tread. I stepped in front of Dean and held out my hand. He sighed and stretched his wounded arm out to me. 

I was right when I had originally thought it wouldn't need stitches. The gash started at his elbow and wrapped around to nearly his shoulder, but it wasn't deep, and it seemed to have already stopped bleeding for the most part. Good.

"This is going to hurt like Hell," I warned him as I readied the alcohol.

"Just get it over wiii…." Dean hissed out the rest of the word as I dumped some of the contents onto the cut.

I spent time delicately making sure the wound was clean before wrapping it tightly enough to secure the gauze, but lose enough that he wouldn't lose feeling in his arm. Then he motioned for me to take his place as he scooted further into the car. 

"Your turn." He instructed.

"I know, I know." I sighed, shrugging out of the thin flannel that I had been wearing over a tank top. "I'm just glad it didn't break anything like the last hunt."

"I'm telling you," Dean started as he soaked a cloth in alcohol. "That werewolf was on something."

"Right. And it totally didn't overpower you because you were distracted by her ti…." I hissed as the cloth touched my shoulder.

"You won't need stitches either." He said as he gently cleaned the wounds. "Though you'll be sore for a while."

We fell into a comfortable silence as he continued to work. There was nothing around us now, save for the sound of crickets chirping and an occasional owl hooting. It was peaceful. As if the night and the creatures in it were trying to thank us for what we had done. As if they knew they wouldn't have to stop their song to warn another person again. 

I shrugged my flannel back over my shoulders when Dean was done and scooted far enough into the car to close the door. Then I fell back against the old leather seats as Dean reached forward and started the engine. The car rumbled to life, and 'Simple Man' by Lynyrd Skynyrd began to fill the car.

"Can we stay here for just a bit?" I asked, leaning against Dean as he sat back against the leather seats. "Just enjoy the silence of the rest of my birthday?"

He chuckled softly. "Ya. Of course, we can."

I smiled, closed my eyes, and started to drift as Dean started to sing along to the song.