The Runt of the Litter

Could Happen to Anyone

Note: Thanks for the comments, views, etc. It is all very much appreciated. I liked writing the chapter about promises because it was fun doing Anna at all different ages and connecting the one shots by a common theme so... I may have done it a second time but with a different theme... Hopefully you guys like this. Basically, it's a bunch of normal hurts that come with growing up. I also, for some reason, decided to go backwards so for these one shots Anna is seventeen, fifteen, thirteen, eleven, six, four, and eleven months.

Could Happen to Anyone

Her backpack felt heavy on her shoulder. Her whole body felt heavy as Anna trudged down the stairs of the men of letters bunker with care. Her left ankle was swollen and discoloured beneath the leg of her sweatpants. She tried not to put any weight on it as she moved from step to step, but it was virtually impossible. Even when she resorted to gripping the railing with both hands and hopping on one foot down each step, her hurt ankle was jarred with every movement.

Fortunately, she reminded herself once she'd finally made it to the bottom of the stairs, her ankle wasn't broken. Or at least she was pretty sure that it wasn't. It didn't quite feel like a break. Anyway, it couldn't be one because she'd gotten it in too normal a way. All her worst injuries in life had been a direct result of hunting, of the family business. It just seemed fitting that she only ever twisted or sprained when she was being regular, normal Anna Campbell.

Still, she began a careful quest around the bunker, trying to find one of her brothers. They could look at it, assure her that it was just a sprain, and tell her to be more careful.

Dropping her backpack in the doorway of the Deancave as her brother had so cleverly named the room, Anna used one hand to steady herself against the doorframe.

"Bad one, huh?" she asked casually.

Inside, Dean was sitting on the couch with his head tilted back holding an ice pack to his face and leaning against the armrest like he was exhausted. His eyes flicked sideways when she spoke and he pulled the ice pack away from his head. "Had worse," was all he said, tossing the ice pack on the table next to the couch and straightening. "What's up?"

Anna looked down at her foot, unsure whether she should still even ask him to look at it. It wasn't bad, really. She was about ninety percent sure that it was only a sprain, and Dean was clearly not in great shape after whatever hunt had come up while she was at school.

"You okay, Runt?"

Anna looked up quickly at the question, catching his suspicious, concerned gaze. Decision made, she started forward, careful not to put much weight on her bad foot as she limped toward the couch. "I, uh, did a very normal and stupid thing earlier which landed me with a very swollen ankle," she admitted.

Dean raised both eyebrows and leaned sideways to look down at her feet. "Let me see," he said, shifting in place so he had one foot on the floor and the other knee bent so there was room for Anna on the couch.

Anna sighed and sat down heavily on the other end of the couch, swinging her leg up so her hurt foot rested in her brother's lap. "Where's Sam?" she asked as means of distraction while Dean pulled her shoe off and gingerly started removing her sock.

"Uh, we're fresh outta grub. He's makin' a run, probably filling a cart with rabbit food as we speak," he said distractedly, much more focused on the swollen ankle before him as he rolled the leg of her sweatpants up out of the way. "How the hell'd you do this?" he asked, prodding carefully at the injury.

Anna looked sheepishly at her brother. "Skateboard," she admitted quietly.

Dean's head shot up, surprise and delight on his face. Anna's dread expanded. She would be not only chastised for this by Sam, but teased by Dean. Great. "Seriously?" Dean asked, hands hovering over her ankle.