A SIMPLE MAN || Dean Winchester

A SIMPLE MAN

1990
DEAN

Even with my family, tripping through the front door with a lump of cloth in your arms is weird. Especially not for my dad. "Bobby! I'm going to need some help in here," he yells.

I guess something went wrong on the hunt.

I was only eleven, so I still had to go to Bobby's house when he went out, but I knew where he went. I wish I could go sometimes, but I also know it's my job to take care of Sammy. I can't do that if I'm not here. So watching TV in Bobby's living room and sleeping on a spare bed would be good enough for now.

Bobby came racing out of the kitchen where he'd been making lunch and I followed him into the living room. Dad's still holding the thing close to him, and he's being really careful not to bump it on anything so whatever it is, it's important. Dad wouldn't have brought it back otherwise.

Maybe it's a demon, possessing someone and he needs help getting it out. That would cool. Horrible...but really cool.

The thing is shaking in its wrappings and the screams and sobs that come out of it sound like an animal. Dad doesn't loosen his grasp until Bobby throws a towel down on top of the couch cushions. He tosses dad a bottle of holy water a second later, but dad swats it away. It lands on the floor.

Not a demon then.

He was after skinwalkers, is this one of them?

Did he bring one back?

In a flurry of movement dad was reaching under the wrapping of jackets and grabbing something that flew out the first chance it got. It was dirty, caked with mud and pine needles and something that really smelled like an outhouse.

An arm.

Bobby moves to the opposite end dad has to pin the thing to the couch so it doesn't lurch up. He moved another jacket from it and reveals what looks like two narrow logs when they're stretched out. They each have one point that bends.

Legs.

At the end of the legs are what tells me this is definitely a person.

Feet.

They were dirtier than the rest of her, and they looked pretty scratched up, but they're definitely human feet. She's gone still for a moment to catch her breath.

The person screams and begs to be let go.

It's a girl.

"What the hell," Bobby breathed out, taking in her bruised, muddy, and shaking form. He grabs another old blanket from back of the couch and laid in on the floor for dad to put her on. It would be easier on a wider surface. As soon as he laid her down she began whimpering again, the tears turning into muddy water.

"Skinwalkers," Dad grunts as he dodged a kick aimed for his head. "Had her chained up in a cave," Dad explained.

Bobby turned to me. "Dean, go grab some wet towels, some of Karen's clothes, and a first aid kit," he instructed, and I immediately ran up the stairs. He looked pained when he said Karen but I didn't have time to think about that.

In about three minutes I was shuffling down the stairs trying not to drop anything. "Alright, good, I need you to start washing her face off," Bobby instructed.

I nodded and pulling a rag out of the bowl of warm water that I'd grabbed.

I brought it up to her face and she screamed, bringing a thin, bony hand up to protect her face. "Please don't hurt me, I won't try to run again, I swear," she sobbed and tried to curl into herself again. I looked up at Dad in alarm. He grimaced and forced her hands open, holding her wrists together and gestured for me to continue with my task.