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Driving conditions were pretty great despite it being mid-January in one of the northernmost parts of the continental U.S.
This meant that Dean Winchester was a happy driver. He loved the open road, and the less snow and ice in his way as he and his brother Sam tracked down a hunt, the better. The attacks that had gotten the hunters' attention didn't fit any known animal to the average person, but to the Winchesters they screamed "water panther". Water panthers, or mishipeshu, were a creature of Anishnaabe Native American lore. They have the head and paws of a giant cat but are covered in scales and have dagger-like spikes running along their back and tail.
What made this case more than a bit odd, was that mishipeshu tended to live and hunt farther north, around Lake Superior and Thunder Bay, Ontario. Something had drawn this one out and down to Deer Lake in Michigan, and it was terrorizing ice fishermen.
Sam was still reading up on the lake as they entered Marquette county, Michigan. He read aloud:
"So in 1980, Deer Lake was listed as contaminated with high levels of mercury and no fish caught there could be eaten. But last year, it was delisted as mercury levels had gone down, and the lake was reopened as a fishing site."
Dean listened to his brother and came up with a theory.
"So the water Panther and his buddies could have been happily living there for what, 34 years before people came back and invaded his territory."
"Yeah, but that doesn't explain how the things got there from their original place up in Canada," Sam countered.
"Hey, all I know is we gotta get 'em outta here one way or another," Dean looked over at his brother as he pulled into a self serve gas station in the town of Ishpeming. "Want anything?"
Sam shook his head and didn't look up from his phone - he was in full research mode and they hadn't even settled in town yet. Dean exited his beloved 1967 Chevy Impala and filled her up with gas before going into the stand and paying for it with one of his many fraudulent credit cards.
"Okay Sammy," Dean said as he got back in the car. "Motel, or wilderness? Think there's gonna be another attack tonight?"
"There's been attacks pretty much every other night for the past week, lay one being two nights ago... So chances are, yeah tonight there'll be another one."
Dean sighed, but knew he had to do what he had to do. This was the job, after all. He just wished he could sleep in a real, albeit crappy, bed tonight - they'd slept in the car last night after all. He started up the engine again and followed his brother's directions.
It took them about twenty minutes to get through town and up to the narrow road that would take them along the shore of Deer Lake. The fittingly named Deer Lake Road was dotted with some small houses and cottages. When Sam and Dean turned north on a stretch of the road without any homes along it, they found a small parking area and a trailhead that led down through some woods to the shore of the lake.
The hunters had some supplies and packs already made and waiting in the Impala's huge trunk. Each of them had the required weapons; copper daggers, as the only metal that the mishipeshu's hide wasn't impervious to was copper. They also had warmer coats and winter hats and gloves to put on since it was getting colder as night fell. They had warm sleeping bags as well, and another change of clothes. There were also snacks, of course, and Sam had a GPS in case he couldn't get cell service. Dean's pack also included a small collapsible tent.
Once they were ready to go, packs on their backs and bundled up, Dean led the way into the snowy woods. The trail they walked was narrow, and they had to walk single file. The two hunters felt the temperature dropping as they walked towards Deer Lake, and were glad for their attire. Just as it became fully dark, snow started to fall softly and gently down between the gaps in the tree branches.
"How much farther to the lake?" Dean asked, turning to face Sam over his shoulder.
Sam had the GPS out, as he was right about cell signal out there, and he answered his brother, saying they were just a few more minutes of walking until hitting the shore. The trail started to slant steeply downwards as they approached the lake, and it was slick with the new fallen snow over a layer of ice.
The two stopped once they could see the lake, a vast frozen expanse ahead of the steep slope upon which they stood. Neither brother could see anyone out on the lake, but the snow was starting to fall thicker out in the open.
"Hard to see out there," came Sam's voice from behind his brother.
"Yeah, you think anyone's even out here? Or do we have the place to ourselves to kill the son of a bitch?" Dean turned to face him.
"Probably got the place to ourselves," Sam paused. "Set up here then? Or down there on the shore?"
Dean pondered a moment which would be better. On one hand, there was more cover from the snow up there in the woods, but it was going to be hard coming back up the icy slope from the shore. On the other hand, the shore was closer to the actual lake where they would be tracking the water panther, but it was colder in the open and more snowy.
"I say we set up camp here, take turns out on the ice tracking the thing... It's more sheltered up here plus it's a better view - one of us'll be able to see the other better," Dean decided as he slid his pack down off his shoulders to the ground.
Sam followed suit, and helped Dean set up the tent, tossing his sleeping bag and the rest of his pack inside of it, excluding the dagger and GPS.
"I'll go out first, you stay here," he said to his older brother. Dean was about to protest, but Sam interrupted him. "I'll be fine, I won't go that far out, I just want a better look to see if anyone's out there. I'll say I'm with parks or something… that they gotta get out."
"Alright, be careful then," Dean grouched. The older Winchester realized Sam maybe just wanted alone time or something, but Dean wasn't fond of letting his little brother out of his sight lately, not since he went back in the cage with Lucifer. In the meantime, the hunter set out getting some branches together for a fire, always looking out on the lake every couple of minutes for his brother.
Meanwhile, Sam had scaled down the slippery slope to the shore with some ease, and was carefully setting foot on the ice. He looked behind him, but the snow was falling still harder now and it was hard to make out the tent where Dean was. He turned to face forward again, peering out and taking a few more steps, looking for night ice fishers from the nearby communities.
Sam's boots barely made a sound in the freshly fallen snow on the surface of the frozen lake. It was eerily quiet as the snow continued to fall and the younger Winchester made it farther away from the shore... And that's when he felt something beneath his feet.
Dean had a pretty good fire going a few feet from the tent, and he sat by it, watching the lake. Sam had disappeared into the snow some time ago, and the older brother wished he knew what was going on. Maybe Sam had found some other people and was in the process of getting them to safety from their demise by the claws of the water panther. The worst thought that Dean had had, one he was trying to shove into the back of his mind, was that Sam was in danger.
If something happened to Sam, and Dean didn’t know and couldn’t save him… Well, Dean didn’t want to think about it. He just sighed and stared at the fire in front of him, ears listening for any sound coming from the lake.
It was like a soft thud, whatever it was that Sam had felt beneath his boots. He immediately stopped moving forward, focusing on the thud, and trying to see if whatever it was would happen again. Which it did about half a minute later, and this time, the thud was stronger. Sam could feel the vibrations of the under-ice thumping reverberating around his feet. With the third thump from under the ice, cracks began to form under the hunter’s feet.
Sam swore internally, not daring to make a sound. He did dare, however, to back away from the place he was standing. He went slowly at first, then turned around and gained speed as the thuds under his feet kept coming, forming deeper cracks. Soon enough, he could just make out the light of a fire on the shore of the lake. It was as if the thing causing the cracks was chasing Sam…
And then he realized: This must be the water panther.
Before Sam even had the chance to pull out his dagger, or to even turn around, he felt the ice give way beneath him.
Dean looked up when he heard faint crackling noises and thumping footsteps coming from the lake. He stood, listening more intently and peering out at the snowy scene. Then the older Winchester started to make out a single form moving quickly towards the shore – Sam, thank God. Dean went down the incline to the very edge of the lake to meet his brother and switch places with him. Or at least that’s what he intended to do.
Just as Dean could see Sam half-clearly through the still-falling snow, his eyes went wide.
Sam plummeted straight down through the cracked ice on the lake’s surface, frigid water splashing up out of the jagged hole left behind.
“SAM!” Dean cried out, making a running start onto the lake, copper blade ready. He knew the only thing that could have broken through ice that thick was the mishipeshu they were hunting, and he knew he needed to get his brother the hell out of its grip.
Sam felt nothing when he hit the water except an intense burning pain in his right leg where the water panther’s jaws were tightly clamped, and the feeling of all his breath being sucked out by the cold water he was being pulled deeper into. For a moment, he didn’t even struggle. He didn’t move, didn’t thrash, didn’t even look at the thing pulling him down. He just sort of… let it happen.
Just as quickly as he felt that pain in his leg, the pain left, and Sam opened his eyes and looked through somewhat cloudy water to see the mishipeshu swimming up towards the hole it had created, leaving the younger Winchester behind to drown. The thing was huge, sleek dark fur rippling as it swam and fishlike scales glinting through the water. It was well muscled beneath its armour, and had a long tail that propelled it upwards.
Sam’s mind was moving in slow motion from the cold, and he felt himself sinking. And then it hit him: the water panther was going up to Dean. Dean.
By the time Dean had nearly reached the hole left behind by the water panther snatching up his brother, the beast was surfacing. It used its huge webbed paws and thick claws to grip the ice and pull itself up out of the water, snarling at its prey.
Once out of the water, the mishipeshu circled Dean, its long tail leaving a wet trench in the freshly fallen snow. The hunter could see blood in the thing’s mouth as it slunk towards him. Sam’s blood. Dean sprung into action then, copper dagger flashing as he met the beast halfway.
The older Winchester dodged the water panther’s jaws and slid on his back beneath the creature across the slippery ice. With quite a lot of force, Dean kicked out the thing’s back legs and it toppled to its side. It was big, but not so fast out of water. The hunter moved quicker than his predator-turned-prey and stabbed the creature between its ribs, wounding the mishipeshu deeply. Dean removed the blade from the startled, angry beast and plunged it in again, fueled with rage and desperation.
And that’s when he heard a loud crack.
The weight of the water panther on the already cracked ice was doing its damage, and Dean quickly backed away from the thing, watching it bleed out. With a final choked snarl, the creature fell down through the ice and sunk through the icy waters of Deer Lake.
Dean didn’t have time to celebrate his win, he needed to get his brother out of the water. He turned again to see the smaller hole where Sam had been pulled under to see a pale hand and subsequent arm reaching up. Sam.
Sam struggled to swim up with his wounded leg towards the hole he had been pulled through. Black circles pushed at his eyes, vision blurring, but the hunter shoved them away. He could hear through the ice above him the sounds of thumps and footfalls – Dean was fighting the water panther.
The younger Winchester didn’t have the energy to focus on it, he needed to get up to that point of light above him and get out. Out. Up. Surface. Dean. Dean. Dean.
Sam reached, almost in slow motion, one arm up through the hole in the ice. It hurt like hell to be met with the wind, and he wanted to pull it back to himself. He felt tired suddenly, exhausted, and began to let go…
Once Dean had ahold of his brother’s forearm, he didn’t let go. He pulled up until he saw Sam’s shoulders, and soon after his soaked head, surface. He grabbed his unconscious brother up under the armpits from behind, and kept pulling, backing up from the hole. Dean was in an awkward squat position when Sam’s entire body was up out of the water, and with both his arms around the younger hunter’s chest, Dean kept backing up until they were off the more fragile part of the ice. Then he moved to lay Sam down, and assess the situation.
The first thing Dean noticed was that Sam wasn’t breathing. He probably had gulped in a lot of water when the mishipeshu dragged him under and that needed to get OUT. Dean started chest compressions on his younger brother – desperately pressing way harder than he should have been and cursing out loud until the murky and frigid water came sputtering out of Sam’s mouth.
Dean sat back, relieved, but kept a hand on his brother’s freezing chest.
“C’mon, Sammy, wake up…” Dean spoke, shaking Sam by the shoulder with his free hand. “Look at me, man, come on…”
Sam’s lungs and throat burned with cold – if that was even possible – when he felt all the lake water he’d inhaled gush out of his mouth involuntarily. Wait a second… Was that solid ground under him? Solid, freezing ground that made his back hurt and his head ache? Was he feeling wind across him, chilling him deeper than the water had been inside and out?
“…Sammy…”
A voice?
“…Look at me…”
Dean’s voice.
Sam, taking in deep ragged lungfuls of cold air, opened his eyes groggily for a moment long enough to see relief wash across his big brother’s face. When he closed his hazel orbs again, he felt both Dean’s gloved hands – warm by comparison – cup his face. He opened his eyes again and realized Dean was asking him a question.
When Sam cracked open his eyes Dean melted into relief. “There you are, little brother…” But when those hazel eyes fell shut again, Dean grew more worried. He needed to get Sam up and over the slope to the fire he had made. He cupped Sam’s face between his hands, waiting for those eyes to open again before asking: “Think you can stand?”
His little brother answered in a cracked and weak voice.
“…Leg…”
Dean felt like an idiot for not checking his brother for injuries. He then saw the deep bite in Sam’s right calf, which was bleeding profusely but not quickly due to how cold the younger Winchester must be. Dean took off his scarf and wrapped it tightly around the wound, causing his brother to make a pained noise.
“Sorry Sammy, but we gotta get you up outta here.” Dean moved back to his brother’s face, where eyes were open, looking more clearly at Dean now than previously. Sam wasn’t shivering, which meant he was in early hypothermia, meaning the situation was urgent. “You aren’t as small as you used to be…” Dean half-joked. “We’re gonna have to get you to walk over there, oaky? Not far. And then we can get you warmed up.”
Sam just nodded, feeling like he should save his energy for getting up and to camp.
It took two tries to get Sam fully upright, leaning heavily on his brother. And it took almost three times as long as it took to walk out onto the lake for the two brothers to reach the slope up to the camp Dean had set up. The fire was burning kind of low up there, but Dean could worry about that later. The struggle they faced now was the hill. When the two stopped moving at the base of the slope, Sam nearly pitched forward unconscious again. He was barely hanging on.
“Come on, Sammy, not far now… Just hang on. We’ll take it slow.”
Holding onto the arm Sam had slung across his shoulders and supporting his brother’s back firmly with his other arm, Dean started up the slope. Step by small step, the two of them began their ascent. As they were welcomed by the cover of trees and were out of the wind, Sam began to feel marginally warmer. He lifted his heavy head to see the fire’s embers glowing, and it gave him the last bit of strength he needed to get to the top.
When they reached the camp, Dean propped his brother – who was losing consciousness again – against a tree, and quickly made for his brother’s sleeping bag. He laid out the bedroll close to the fire, and helped Sam over to it. The younger Winchester practically collapsed onto it and Dean frowned as he set to work on properly bandaging Sam’s leg with supplies in the first aid kit they had brought. Once done, he zipped the sleeping bag up around his brother. He felt awful that Sam was in such a state. He never should have let him go first out onto the lake.
The hunter had no time for guilt, he needed to get Sam dry and warm. Luckily, Dean had set aside some more firewood nearby, which he began to pile onto the fire. Soon enough, he could see Sam begin to shiver in his sleep. A rather violent shake went through his system and it woke the younger Winchester up.
“C-c-c-cold, D-Dean…” he mumbled through chattering teeth.
Dean then went back to the tent – which confused Sam – then returned with his own sleeping bag. The older brother laid out his sleeping bag right next to Sam’s, and Dean got inside of it. He scooted himself closer to his brother so he was pressed right up against his back, one arm flung out of the bedroll and around Sam.
Sam’s first thought was that this was a lot warmer than it had been, and his shivers began to slow. Sam slowly began to drift off again when he felt Dean’s arm tighten around him, and his older brother’s warm breath down the back of his neck.
“D-Dean… W-what are you d-doing?” he asked in a small voice.
“Gotta keep you warm…” Was the only reply that Sam heard.
The younger brother struggled to roll over with his wounded leg, but did so to face Dean, whose face was etched with guilt.
“Dean, it’s n-not your f-f-fault…”
The older brother just shook his head, shut his eyes and pulled Sam even closer to him. The younger brother would be forever grateful to Dean for saving him out here, for keeping him warm.
He leaned his forehead against his big brother’s and soon fell asleep once again, feeling a lot warmer.
“I love you, little brother…” Dean whispered softly.