Sam's First Hunt
Title: Sam's First Hunt
Author: my_sam_dean
Pairing/Character: Sam, Dean, John
Disclaimer: I own nothing Supernatural
spn_contestPrompt: First Hunt
Rating: R
Warnings/Spoilers: Swearing
Author Notes: Sam's first hunt isn't flawless.
"Stay behind me, Sammy."
"It's Sam," he hissed in Dean's ear. "I can't see anything if I'm behind you."
"But you're safe there so stay put, bitch."
"Jerk."
John stopped up ahead. He turned around and asked his boys, "Can you just cut the crap so we can get this done? I'd like to sleep in a motel tonight if you don't mind. Sam, what are you doing hiding behind Dean? This is your first hunt and you're not gonna hunt anything that way."
Sam stepped sideways, out of Dean's shadow. He stuck his tongue out at Dean who returned the gesture. John shook his head and kept going, hoping the other two would give up their pettiness and actually follow him.
John saw the ghost in the clearing. He stopped and motioned for the boys to spread out. Not watching, they bumped into John. He shot them an aggravated look and motioned for them to spread out. The look on his face warned the boys to pay attention. They turned red as they spread out.
Since it was Sam's first hunt, he was the one to shoot rock salt into the ghost. He'd shot the sawed off many times before but in all the excitement he didn't have the best grip on it. The kickback was going to leave a bruise.
The trio hurried to the grave. Sam stood guard while the other two dug the grave up. Sam peered through the darkness nervously. Without any warning, Sam was thrown against a headstone. He lost his grip on the gun as he flew through the air.
John saw the ghost attack Sam. He ordered Dean to keep working as he jumped out of the grave. He slid along the ground to Sam's discarded gun, and blasted the ghost again.
Sam opened his eyes and couldn't focus on who was moving him away from the headstone. "Dean?"
"He's working on the grave. I'm going to go back to help him. Just stay here. You must have one hell of a concussion."
Sam laid his head back down. He was in no shape to argue.
They were able to salt and burn the bones without the ghost making another appearance.
***
John blamed himself for the events of the night. He should have known that Sam wasn't ready. Sam wasn't seriously hurt this time. It only takes one time. He ordered another drink at the bar, knowing that Dean was tending to Sam.
He planned on getting good and plastered before walking back to the motel. It was the only way to deal with the ache and worry he had inside.
***
"What happened to your shoulder?"
Sam tried to help Dean get his arms out of his coat and shirt. "Rock salt," was all he said in response.
Dean had already given him aspirin for his headache and ice for the knob on his head. "Hurt anywhere else?"
"Just achy."
"Okay, roll over. I've got some muscle rub."
Sam didn't argue. Dean stripped him down to his boxers and rubbed the ointment in, slowly working the muscles loose.
"Feeling better?"
"Hmm."
"Go to sleep. I have to wake you up in a couple of hours for your concussion."
Sam relaxed into the feel of Dean's hands and drifted off to sleep. When Dean was done, he covered Sam up and moved the ice so it sat where Sam's head had connected with the headstone.
Sitting against the headboard of his and Sam's bed, Dean waited for John to come home. He didn't know if John would have enough coordination to work the motel key when he got back.
They'd fallen back into their old routine. Dean was still taking care of Sammy, wondering when John was coming home.
.
Author: my_sam_dean
Pairing/Character: Sam, Dean, John
Disclaimer: I own nothing Supernatural
spn_contestPrompt: First Hunt
Rating: R
Warnings/Spoilers: Swearing
Author Notes: Sam's first hunt isn't flawless.
"Stay behind me, Sammy."
"It's Sam," he hissed in Dean's ear. "I can't see anything if I'm behind you."
"But you're safe there so stay put, bitch."
"Jerk."
John stopped up ahead. He turned around and asked his boys, "Can you just cut the crap so we can get this done? I'd like to sleep in a motel tonight if you don't mind. Sam, what are you doing hiding behind Dean? This is your first hunt and you're not gonna hunt anything that way."
Sam stepped sideways, out of Dean's shadow. He stuck his tongue out at Dean who returned the gesture. John shook his head and kept going, hoping the other two would give up their pettiness and actually follow him.
John saw the ghost in the clearing. He stopped and motioned for the boys to spread out. Not watching, they bumped into John. He shot them an aggravated look and motioned for them to spread out. The look on his face warned the boys to pay attention. They turned red as they spread out.
Since it was Sam's first hunt, he was the one to shoot rock salt into the ghost. He'd shot the sawed off many times before but in all the excitement he didn't have the best grip on it. The kickback was going to leave a bruise.
The trio hurried to the grave. Sam stood guard while the other two dug the grave up. Sam peered through the darkness nervously. Without any warning, Sam was thrown against a headstone. He lost his grip on the gun as he flew through the air.
John saw the ghost attack Sam. He ordered Dean to keep working as he jumped out of the grave. He slid along the ground to Sam's discarded gun, and blasted the ghost again.
Sam opened his eyes and couldn't focus on who was moving him away from the headstone. "Dean?"
"He's working on the grave. I'm going to go back to help him. Just stay here. You must have one hell of a concussion."
Sam laid his head back down. He was in no shape to argue.
They were able to salt and burn the bones without the ghost making another appearance.
***
John blamed himself for the events of the night. He should have known that Sam wasn't ready. Sam wasn't seriously hurt this time. It only takes one time. He ordered another drink at the bar, knowing that Dean was tending to Sam.
He planned on getting good and plastered before walking back to the motel. It was the only way to deal with the ache and worry he had inside.
***
"What happened to your shoulder?"
Sam tried to help Dean get his arms out of his coat and shirt. "Rock salt," was all he said in response.
Dean had already given him aspirin for his headache and ice for the knob on his head. "Hurt anywhere else?"
"Just achy."
"Okay, roll over. I've got some muscle rub."
Sam didn't argue. Dean stripped him down to his boxers and rubbed the ointment in, slowly working the muscles loose.
"Feeling better?"
"Hmm."
"Go to sleep. I have to wake you up in a couple of hours for your concussion."
Sam relaxed into the feel of Dean's hands and drifted off to sleep. When Dean was done, he covered Sam up and moved the ice so it sat where Sam's head had connected with the headstone.
Sitting against the headboard of his and Sam's bed, Dean waited for John to come home. He didn't know if John would have enough coordination to work the motel key when he got back.
They'd fallen back into their old routine. Dean was still taking care of Sammy, wondering when John was coming home.
.