#open fracture

Twilight heard Wild’s cry of pain from across the battlefield. Their yell was loud and clear over the clashing of swords and battle cries of the other heroes, like Twilight’s ear was specifically attuned to it. Against his better judgment, Twilight’s eyes left his own battle to search the field for Wild. 

A weight slammed into his side. Twilight faltered, but quickly regained his balance and planted his feet securely into his battle stance. 

“Focus, pup!” Time yelled. His shield was raised against the lizalfo Twilight had been fighting, and there was a spike from its tail embedded in the splintering wood. Twilight shook his head to clear his racing mind.

Twilight leapt around the monster, dealing a killing blow to the lizalfo while it was distracted. It fell to the ground with a horrid screech, and just as it hit the dirt it exploded into a cloud of black dust. Twilight took a step back, chest heaving, and locked eyes with Time. Time sent a cursory glance around the battlefield and his gaze landed on Wild.

Even from here, Twilight could see the break. Wild’s left arm hung limply by their side, crooked and misshapen. It was steadily dripping blood. Wild had dropped their sword, but still held a shield in a loose grip in their right hand. They were swaying on their feet, being driven back by a moblin.

“Go,” Time instructed. Twilight tore his eyes from Wild to meet Time’s. 

“Battle’s almost over, we’ll take care of the rest,” Time said, then jumped back into the battlefield. 

Twilight ran across the field. His gaze landed on Wild just in time to see their shield shatter into pieces. Wild barely paused, backflipping out of reach of the moblin’s club. They landed next to a discarded tree branch, picked it up, and hurled it at the moblin. The sharp end of the stick embedded itself into the middle of the moblins throat. 

The monster dropped its club and its hands went to its neck. It stood motionless, choking on its own blood, before Twilight reached it and drove his sword through its heart. Twilight pushed it off his blade with his foot as he scanned his immediate surroundings. No other monsters nearby, just the ones across the field the others were finishing off. 

“Nice throw,” Twilight said, sheathing his sword and stepping up to Wild. They were hunched over slightly, right hand cradling their left arm. Wild raised their head and offered Twilight a shaky smirk.

“I was aiming for its chest,” Wild said, huffing a breathy laugh. Twilight reached out his hands toward Wild’s arm, eyebrows raised in question. Wild sucked in a breath and nodded, letting their right hand fall from the injury. 

“What happened?” Twilight asked. He took Wild’s arm as gently as he could, and did his best to hide his flinch as Wild hissed in pain.

“Bad angle, lucky hit,” Wild muttered through clenched teeth. “Heavy club.”

Now that Twilight had a closer look, he couldn’t keep the grimace off his face. Wild’s forearm was bent unnaturally, and already swollen to twice its size. It was hard to see through the bruising and the blood, but it looked like at least one of the bones had pierced the skin. Twilight felt his heart stutter in his chest, and he swallowed hard.

“That bad, huh?” Wild asked, voice small and shaking. Twilight glanced up to meet their eyes, but Wild had screwed them shut. Their face was pale and they were leaning to the side. 

“Why don’t you sit down,” Twilight said gently, bracing Wild’s arm. Wild nodded.

Twilight held Wild’s arm as they lowered themself to the ground shakily. Wild paled further, even as careful as Twilight tried to be with their arm. Twilight knew special care had to be taken when bones pierced the skin, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what. Twilight looked desperately around him, ready to call out for help to whoever was nearby.

Warriors was the closest, and Twilight let out a breath of relief. He knew field medicine, and would be able to keep a level head. Twilight felt like he was struggling with that one at the moment. 

Just as Warriors finished off his monster, Twilight called out to him. “Wars!” 

Warriors’ head swiveled towards him, and his eyes widened when he saw the pair on the ground. He briefly turned to say something to Four that Twilight couldn’t make out, then ran over. He slid to his knees next to Twilight, hands already hovering over Wild’s arm. 

“I think the bone pierced their skin,” Twilight said. Warriors nodded, already turning to pull his bag off his shoulder. 

“Lean them against you,” Warriors said as he dug through his bag. 

Twilight nodded, giving Wild a gentle nudge. Wild blinked their eyes open, and Twilight gave them what he hoped was a smile. 

“Still with us?” Twilight asked. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Wild said, but his voice was shaking and he was still alarmingly pale. 

Warriors huffed. “Not quite.”

“I’m gonna shift around, can you manage for a second?” Twilight asked. Wild blinked at him in confusion. 

“I need to reset the bone and clean the wound before I give you a potion,” Warriors explained. 

“Ah,” Wild said, barely audible. After only a moment of hesitation, they nodded. Twilight placed their arm in their lap as gently as he could, but Wild still couldn’t hold back a sharp gasp of pain. Twilight felt the sound piece through his own heart.  As soon as their arm was down, Twilight shifted so that Wild was leaning against his chest. 

“This is going to hurt like hell, Champion, but you have to stay perfectly still,” Warriors said. Wild nodded, staring up at him with wide eyes. 

“Twilight, hold them down,” Warriors instructed. Twilight wrapped his arms tightly around Wild and closed his eyes. He needed to keep Wild still, and he wasn’t completely confident in his ability to do so while watching. He was so grateful Warriors had experience with this, even if he hated the circumstances that gave him the experience.

“Are you ready?” Warriors asked. Wild shifted, shoving their face into Twilight’s shoulder.  

“Do it,” Wild said. 

“On three. One-”

“Since when do we forget the silver bullets?” 

“Check your gun,” Dean replies, already taking out his clip, and he can hear Sam doing the same. Both clips are full--but with regular ol’ lead.

After a moment Sam says, “Huh. We forgot the silver bullets. We didn’t switch ‘em back after target shooting last night...Which is exactly what I told you would happen!”

Dean sighs. Sam had told him. “‘kay, well, you’ve gotta go get ‘em.”

“What and leave you here alone?” Sam scoffs. “Forget it.”

Dean reaches down to the sheath in his boot and pulls out a small silver blade he keeps there. “I’ll be fine, Sammy. Now go, it’s almost sundown.”

“Why do I have to go?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “We both know you’re faster than me, with those freaky giraffe legs. You wanna hurry up?”

Sam pulls one final face before running back the way they’d come. Dean watches him until he’s out of sight, then runs his fingers through his hair and rubs at the back of his head. He doubts Sam will be able to get back before the sun is fully set, which means Dean will be vulnerable. Frankly, he doesn’t think his little knife will do much against the Proctor Valley Monster, whatever it turns out to actually be. He paces the small clearing, kicking a pinecone back and forth. 

He’s about to see if he still remembers how to kick around the ol’ hacky sack when he hears something snap behind him, and he suddenly realizes how dark the woods have become. He takes a breath. He has to stay calm. None of that Sammy, is that you? bullshit like in the movies. Another breath, and he turns, knife raised. 

And it’s right in front of him, a hulking figure like nothing he’s ever seen. He lets out a shout and plunges the knife forward, burying it deep between where he approximates the thing’s ribs are, and is dismayed but not overly surprised when nothing happens.

“Damn it Sammy, hurry up,” he mutters, backing up. He barely makes it two steps before the thing grabs his arm with two clawed hands and snaps.

xxx 

Sam is running back up the path when he hears it--a scream that makes his heart skip a beat, his stomach clench, and the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He runs faster. 

He’s never heard Dean make that sound before.

“Dean!” he calls, thankful he’d though to grab a flashlight along with the silver bullets. “Dean!”

He could’ve sworn the clearing was closer to the edge of the forest. “Dean!”

“I’m here,” Dean’s voice finally comes, and it’s close. Sam stumbles into the clearing. Dean is lying on his back, panting. 

“Dean!” Sam cries, collapsing onto his knees next to his brother and searching with trembling hands for any outward injury. Legs, fine. Torso, fine. He gets to Dean’s left arm and feels the air rush out of him as the flashlight catches on something white. 

Dean’s forearm is at practically a ninety-degree angle and his bone is protruding through the skin, streaked with blood. Sam’s stomach turns, and he has to swallow back bile. 

“What the hell happened?” he asks, looking at Dean and trying not to freak out. His brother’s face is pale and drawn, sweat beading his forehead. 

“The monster, what the hell do you think? It snapped my arm like a fucking toothpick.”

“Did you see where it went?”

Dean shakes his head once. “No. But I stabbed it. Didn’t seem to do much, but maybe…”

“Okay,” Sam says. “Okay, we, uh. We’re just going to have to hope that it stays away long enough for us to get you back to the Impala. Can you stand?”

Dean grunts. “Think so. Are you gonna...gonna set the bone or something?”

“Uh…” Sam looks over at the injured limb and swallows. “With a break that bad, and the bone out like that...I don’t think I should chance it. But we should try and stabilize it as much as possible before we move. Let’s get you up.”

He grabs Dean’s right hand and pulls him upright, trying to ignore the cry that rips from him. His knees buckle, and Sam has to keep him on his feet.

“Hey, hey, hey. C’mon, Dean.” He leans Dean up against a tree, hands gripping his shoulders. “Dean!”

Dean’s eyes flutter open and immediately close again, tightening with pain, and he grits his teeth. “God damnit.”

“You big baby,” Sam says, pulling his off his jacket before taking off his thinner second layer. “I’m going to fashion this into a sling, alright?”

“Okay, Doogie Howser.” He’s holding his arm against his body as if his life depends on it. 

“I’ll do my best to move your arm as little as possible, but this is probably going to hurt.”

“That your official diagnosis, doc?”

“Shut up.” He puts the body of his shirt under Dean’s arm and pulls the sleeves up to tie them around the back of Dean’s neck. He’s as careful as he can, but he must jostle it a little because Dean screams and his head dips forward, and Sam has to hold him again. “Dean, no! Come on.” He uses the hand that isn’t supporting Dean to tip his face up and he gives it a pat. “Come on!”

Dean lets out a groan and lifts his head. His eyes are glassy. 

“Hey,” Sam says. “We have to get you out of here.”

“‘t hurts,” he slurs. 

“I know, Dean. I know it does but that thing is still out there.”

“My fingers’re goin’ numb. ‘sat normal?”

Sam’s heart jumps. “It’s fine,” he says. “Let’s just get out of here.”

As long as it felt getting out here, he knows it’s going to be a hell of a lot longer on the way back out.