𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

❝ the hunters responsibly ❞

june 8th, 2001

cheyenne, wyoming / wichita, kansas

*ੈ  ✩   .     ‧  ˚   𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥, treading down a path between the door and the Impala as he ran a hand through his hair, showing his agitation. It had been a week since his father left him the note saying he was taking a case in a different state, leaving his two sons behind in a one horse town just outside of Cheyenne, Wyoming.

    The dark blonde was becoming more stressed as phone calls came through, people looking for his father but only getting ahold of the eldest son. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep doing this.

    Sam, barely eighteen, had been watching his brother through the window, trying to read his lips and get a feel for what was going on. Unlike Dean, he didn't mind this time away from their father, getting a break from the mental strain he always felt in his presence. His shoulders slumped as he leaned over the table with his elbows resting overtop of the books he was studying.

    A few moments later, Dean dragged his feet as he walked through the entrance, shutting the door with a deep sigh. "I swear, one more call and I'm shutting this thing off." He raised the phone to show it off before lazily tossing it to the bed and starting to slide his jacket off.

    "Who was it?" Sammy asked, looking up at his brother being genuinely curious as to why he seemed so unsettled.

    "It's just another guy looking for dad." He said dismissively, tossing the impala's keys beside the phone, watching as they bounced once before he laid his jacket overtop of a wooden chair.

    "Well, what did they want?" The shaggy haired brother pushed, his gaze keenly set on Dean.

    Dean didn't want to share the details with Sam, knowing how their dad often disapproved of getting the younger brother too involved in the hunting life but with one look in his puppy dog eyes, Dean couldn't hold back. Licking his bottom lip as he gave up, he sighed before talking. "This guy, Frank Knox says his daughter was kidnapped by a witch coven him and dad were hunting back in '92."

    Sam stiffened in his chair, a frown crossing his face as he took in the information. "We're gonna go and help them, right?" He asked expectantly.

    "What do we know about witches, Sam? This is out of our league. Besides, dad told us to wait here until he comes back." He said dismissively, sitting on his bed and starting to untie his boots.

    Sam audibly groaned from his spot, running a hand through his hair in frustration before he stood up and briskly walked towards the beds, sitting directly across from his brother. "We research for a reason, Dean, and if he's worked with dad before then he must be trustworthy, right?" The younger brother reasoned, clicking his tongue once. "We have the Impala, you have some cash... we should help them. It's part of what we do, right? Saving people?"

    Sam could tell Dean was thinking a bit harder about it by the way he slowed down from taking his boots off, knowing that both of them were going crazy in his musky room and getting out on a case, no matter how much Sam detested them was what they both needed.

    "Besides, dad's always pissed so if not for this then it will be for something else. At least if we go and help these people, we're doing something good." Sam reasoned, hoping it would be enough to persuade him.

    Dean finally relented, knowing that his brother was right but already was dreading the consequences. "Alright. Pack up. We leave in five."

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

    The drive took around eight hours with Dean blasting some of the greatest hits of mullet rock to which Sam surprisingly didn't mind this time. Secretly, the further they were from their father, the better he was feeling. He didn't dare share that with Dean; knowing how the older brother often felt the need to prove himself and be the perfect son. The arguments between him and John had grown fiercer over time and Sam was growing weary of having to fight over every little thing. 

    The summer sun was starting to hang low in the sky as they pulled off at an abandoned parking lot where Frank Knox was waiting. The meeting went well enough even with the way the man was distressed and anxious. Surprisingly, he appeared to have his head on his shoulders despite the kidnapping of his daughter.

    "Decapitation. That's the only way I've found that works. Bullets will slow them down but won't kill them." Frank spoke a bit gruffly, glancing at the brothers to make sure this information was getting through to them.

    "I'll make sure to sharpen my machete." Dean spoke, masking the dread he felt inside with a small side smile, meeting Frank's gaze. "We'll find her, sir." He said with a more serious look. 

    Frank nodded his head in approval, closing the map that he had spread out on the hood of his truck. "Keep your eyes open for hex bags and sigils, they usually like to use them to ward off hunters. You boys watch each other's backs."

    Then with a firm handshake, they parted ways with Frank heading towards an old warehouse and the brothers to a second location where the older hunter believed would be less dangerous.

   The driveway was long and overgrown with weeds, dust kicking up from the tires and floated up against the darkened sky in the rearview mirror until it disappeared from sight. Dean parked the Impala in front of the farmhouse, taking in it's forsaken appearance with its broken window panes crushed under Sam's feet as he had clumsily trekked over the shattered glass, earning a stern glare from his brother.

    By a single glance, one would have guessed that this place was just a creepy abandoned farmhouse that hadn't been used in years but upon further inspection and Dean's observant eyes, he saw a well beaten path that had regularly been used leading to the cellar door. Someone had been spending a lot of time here.

    Giving Sam a signal to stand clear, the older brother carefully approaches the aged wooden trap door, Dean successfully picking the lock and then carefully casts it aside. He knew that this was dangerous and the possibility of them getting out safely if the witches were here would be slim but he couldn't think like that. A hunter had to do their job regardless of the risks. Taking a second to calm his thoughts, he racked his pistol before reaching down to lift the doors open.

    The sight that greeted his eyes once he was down the creaky stairs was a gruesome and one that would stick with him for the rest of his life. In the dim lighting, he could barely make a silhouette of a body with its hands tied to the cedar beams above, open wounds scattered across the body as it was only clad in underwear. A pang of vexation came across him, wondering what level of asshole you had to be to do this to someone.

    "Sam, stay alert!" Dean ordered harshly in a soft tone as he quickly made his way towards the girl, setting the pistol down on a barrel beside them and gently placing both hands on either side of her face to try coaxing her awake. Dried blood mixed with grime was smeared across her body, the skin on her cheekbone bruised and split as if she had been hit with a blunt object.

    Her eyes started to flutter as she struggled to gain consciousness, Dean instantly starting to feel a bit of relief as he raised her gaze to look at him. "Hey, hey, Jennifer right? Me and my brother are gonna get you out of here, okay?" He spoke in a reassuring voice before reaching to his beltline to slide his machete out from its sheath. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he lifted his other to cut her free, pained cries escaping her lips as her taut muscles were finally set free.

    "Whoa, easy there." Dean whispered gently as he held her a little tighter against his chest to keep her falling to the floor. It was clear she didn't have much strength and as he glanced at the dirt floor, he could see that the ground around them was moist... dread filling his stomach as he realized it must likely had been from her blood.

    Quickly glancing around, he put his blade back in its sheath and looked to see if there was anything he could cover her body with, having felt the way her skin seemed cold to his touch. Finding nothing, he took a few steps with her to a wooden crate, helping her sit down before reaching for his own jacket and started to slip it off.

    He didn't quite take it off before his body was thrown to the opposite side of the room, crashing into an old pantry shelf and shattering multiple glass jars.

    "You think you can just waltz in here and take the prize?" A new voice rang out, heels clicking down the stairway as the door to the outside was flung shut leaving Sam yelling and banging on it to try forcing it open.

    "Playing hero for the damsel in distress, what a story you could have made." The brown haired witch mocked, muttering a few words just as Dean started to stand back up, forcing his body against the wall with just a flick of her hand.

    "I got news for you, this girl? We have much more planned for her other than bait and while you aren't who we wanted, I'll gladly kill you too." She spoke with a wicked smile as she started muttering a few more words, Dean's face contorting in pain as he felt his insides starting to twist.

    Three rapid shots rang out.

    The witch grasped at her chest, splurts of crimson shooting from her heart area as she turned to look at Jennifer who held the some pistol Dean had moments earlier. "You ungrateful little whore." She muttered, stumbling towards the other woman.

    Taking the opportunity and freed from the invisible grasp, Dean scrambled to stand up and pulled out his machete and with a powerful swing, he aimed for her neck and the witch met her demise in two pieces, falling to the floor with a thump.

    Time crawled as the two hearts beat wildly from the action and their gazes met for a moment, an unspoken bond starting to grow in that moment. Until Jenny became light headed and slumped against the barrel beside her, her eyes fluttering shut as she desperately tried to stay conscious.

    "Dean!" Sam frantically stumbled down the stairs in a rush, stopping when he reached the bottom and saw that the witch was dead. "Oh- god." He groaned, grimacing at the grisly scene and raised a clenched fist to his mouth to keep the bitter taste down.

    "Sam, focus." Dean called as he picked Jennifer up. "Go grab one of your freakishly long shirts and let's hightail it out of here." He ordered, briskly walking to Jenny and sliding the pistol into his beltline before effortlessly picking the dark haired woman up.

    Once he made it to the car, Dean asked Sam to turn around, wanting to give Jenny some form of her dignity back as he respectfully averted his gaze although a little anxious. From his peripheral, he could see the way she started struggling, her body swaying from both the loss of blood and sensory overload from the pain she endured. 

    "Hey, I- help." Jenny muttered out, having to put a hand against the trunk of the Impala to steady herself with a hand to her forehead to try stopping the world spinning. She had only managed to do a middle button, her body shivering from the late afternoon nip in the air.

    "Oh, yeah, sure... just uh, hold still." Clenching his jaw to relieve some of the nervousness he felt, trying to focus solely on the fabric but his gaze still slipped to catch a glimpse of the lightly tanned skin on her chest, only to frown softly at the way there was another gash below her collarbone. "They really put you through the ringer, huh?" He asked in attempt to lighten the mood, offering an uneasy smile.

    Jenny looked up at him through droopy eyelids, barely having the strength to keep herself upright. "You don't know the half of it." She spoke weakly, a gentle sigh escaping her lips as she shut her eyes again. 

    Dean felt a pang of pity build in his stomach, wishing there was something more he could do but couldn't help the small blush that dusted his cheeks as his fingers nimbly buttoned up the rest of the flannel on her. Meeting her gaze, he cleared his throat, desperate to avoid the tension he could feel building, he moved to open the back door for her. "Let's get you out of here." He spoke in a gentle tone, placing a hand on her arm and back to help her get situated in the backseat. 

    Knowing they couldn't waste any time in leaving the crime scene, he nodded for Sam to get in, wanting to put as much distance between them and the witches as possible until they could finally meet up with her father.

    The rumble of the Impala was like a lullaby and caused Jennifer to drift asleep almost instantly. Despite her broken and disheveled state, there was an innocence to her that caught Dean's eye, making him wonder why someone like her deserved to be put through all this.

    In the passenger seat, Sam let out a frustrated sigh and shut the flip phone closed. "Nothing." He spoke, shaking his head as he looked out the window. It was the third time they tried to get ahold of Frank Knox within the last hour and it had been in vain. The man wasn't going to answer.

    "Awesome." Dean said sarcastically, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. "The hell we supposed to do now?" He questioned more himself, knowing that now he wasn't just responsible for Sam but for the girl they had just saved too.

    The headlights gave a steady stream of light to the road ahead of them as the miles drifted past, Dean wondering what they got themselves into but knowing there was only one thing they could do. First things first, they needed her wounds tended and a warm meal. Not exactly how Dean planned out his week but Sam had been right, it was part of what they did.

Saving people. 

this lovely gif banner has been made by my loveliest friend, @coast_by_coast <33 

𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝: march 1st, 2024

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝: n/a