SuperWhoLock: When the Shadows Rage

Episode 1: Tin Men part 1

~*~Hi all! Just a quick note to introduce this latest story! This is my first fanfic...so of course I had to pull out all the stops and make it a SuperWhoLock. ;) I've had a great time writing this and I hope you guys enjoy it as well!

Each episode has 3-5 parts of 1,000-1,500 words each. I'm planning to post each part once a week, on Mondays, for as long as the fanfic goes on (which, at this point, is unknown.) :) Also, for those interested, this fanfic takes place: somewhere between Supernatural S2 episodes "Bloodlust" and "Croatoan"; at the end of Sherlock S3; and between S6 and S7 of Doctor Who. I know in real life the timelines don't match up...and I will probably get a few minor details wrong here or there...but let's just play along and say it's slightly AU. ;) (Also, for those wondering...no slash, no Johnlock, and no Destiel.)

Questions and critiques are welcome! Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters, even though I wish I did.~*~

EPISODE 1: TIN MEN PART 1

"I wish you'd given me more time to research." Sam flipped through his dad's notebook, re-reading the section on wendigos over and over.

"Relax." Dean hung his right arm over the seat, driving with two fingers of his left hand hooked over the bottom of the Impala steering wheel.

Sam glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes, then shook his head. It wasn't worth critiquing his older brother's driving skills yet again. He rubbed his eyes and leaned back in the seat. "Relax? We don't know anything about this thing. All you did was talk to a few locals, then you were all gung-ho about getting out here to hunt."

"Claw marks on trees? People disappearing mysteriously, campsites trashed? It's a wendigo, dude. Just like out in Colorado." Dean turned onto a gravel road and stopped, squinting up at the streetsign that was partially hidden by a scrubby pine. "This is it, right?"

"Yeah. But—"

Dean stomped the gas, throwing gravel as they headed down the road. He grinned.

Sam sighed. He shifted sideways in the seat to face his brother. "Dean, listen to me. In Colorado, we studied the records. We knew when the thing hibernated and when it came out to eat and approximately how many people it took each time. We don't know anything about this wendigo. What if it's not even a wendigo? Maybe it's a lake monster of some kind, or something entirely different. Werewolf? Vampire? Or maybe it's not anything supernatural at all, and it's just a bear."

Dean gave him a 'you're being stupid' look. "Eating people? You are listening to yourself, right?"

A yellow-and-white striped gate came into view, blocking the rest of the road. Dean turned down a slight incline into the graveled parking lot and stopped. He got out.

"I just don't like going in blind," Sam muttered under his breath, shoving the door open.

Dean tossed him a flare gun, then a shotgun, then a handful of rock salt shells. Sam pocketed the shells and raised his eyebrows.

Dean shrugged. "Just in case. But I don't think we're going to find anything other than a wendigo. We're in the things' backyard, dude. This is where the myth originated." He belted a machete around his waist and stuck a flare gun in his jacket pocket. "Heck, they even have an island out there with a camping spot named Wendigo. You ask me, that's just asking for trouble."

"You're running your mouth. That means you don't know what's out there either, and you're nervous about it, whether you admit it or not." Sam slung the shotgun over his shoulder.