Title: The Sounds of Camping
Author: P.L. Wynter (wynter_rebel)
Pairings: gen
Rating: G
Spoilers: Maybe just for Wendigo, but not even. Just camping reference.
Warnings: None.
Summary: John takes the boys camping. Sam and Dean fight a monster they can never win against.


Sam woke with a start. The sounds of crickets and rustling leaves reminded him of where he was; camping with Dad and Dean. He turned his head and caught sight of his brother's unruly mop of tangled hair poking from beneath the sleeping bag he had somehow completely cocooned himself in. Dean was asleep, looking content nonetheless. Sam relaxed. If Dean was okay, then so was he.

Their Dad had been the one to suggest the camping trip. Neither of the boys had been on one before, so it was about time they got around to it. Sam was five years old, life was getting away from him, he had to start living while he was young, before it was too late. Or at least that's what Dean had told him. And who was Sam to question Dean? He was nine years old after all and well experienced with things like these.

It started out fun. They'd set up the tents, cooked hotdogs, and their Dad had even shown them how to cook Marshmallows so they were just right, not too burnt, just a slight browning of the surface. That's the way Sam loved them. Dean, on the other hand, seemed to always burn his. He'd set the Marshmallow on fire, let it burn, and then extinguish it only when the entire thing was blackened and crisp. He'd pull off the black part and do it all over again until he was left with just remains on the end of his stick. Dean claimed he liked them that way, but Sam thought he just liked blowing out the fire. His brother always looked triumphant when he saved his Marshmallow from the flames. Sam didn't know why, it was only a Marshmallow.

Later in the day, their Dad had taken them fishing by the river. Sam had gotten upset when Dean caught a bigger fish than him, but then Dean had promptly told him that he only caught a bigger one so they could share it. That had made Sam feel better. They'd give up on fishing after that and Dean made an impromptu decision to go swimming when he slipped off the dock they'd been sitting on. Their father had jumped in after him, and of course, Sam wouldn't be left alone so he'd quickly followed, forgetting that he really didn't know how to swim. John had managed to pull both the boy out, Sam giggling and Dean looking very perturbed.

By the time night had fallen, both boys were exhausted and their Dad had decided they should call it an early night. Dean had helped John put a protection ring around the campsite, which had prompted Sam to ask why one was needed out in the woods anyway. Their Dad was quick to explain that it probably wasn't needed, but it was always good to be safe. Then he'd tucked his boys into their sleeping bags and had gone off to "check the perimeter." Sam didn't know what a perimeter was, but if his Dad said it needed to be checked, then it needed to be checked.

And now Sam was here, laying in his sleeping bag, staring at the top of the tent. It was really dark. The fire must have gone out some time ago. Sam wondering why he was suddenly awake again. He usually didn't wake up during the night. Maybe it was the cold air, or the annoying crickets, or the lumpy ground, or