While These Visions Did Appear (4/8)
The world didn’t fall apart. In fact, hunting with Sam after that became even better. Without Dean taking off every few nights with whatever pair of arms he could find, Sam didn’t mind being in the bar. He seemed to enjoy watching Dean’s back when he didn’t have to leave alone at the end of the night. There was a lot less tension between them but when it was there, they both knew what it was. And the sex was amazing.
Sam was passionate about everything he did and his curiosity and energy followed into the bedroom the same as it did everywhere else. There was nothing Sam wouldn’t do or try and if Dean had ever had a more responsive lover he couldn’t remember it. It still bothered him, from time to time, that Sam was young, but Sam always reminded Dean that he was only four years older. When he pressed about getting Sam back into school, Sam countered by suggesting he get his GED since they didn’t know what he’d been doing at school anyway. It was a compromise, but Sam took to the studying like he did research for a hunt and he passed the GED with flying colors. When pressed about college though Sam had pushed Dean back against a wall, kissed him senseless and told him he was right where he wanted to be. After a staggering blow job, Dean had let it drop.
Hunting together had become their life, living in each other’s pockets, bad motel room after bad motel room, and Dean didn’t think he’d ever been happier. He didn’t think he could be even if he regained more than a year and a half of memories. He just didn’t believe it was possible to be more content than he was. He had his car and he travelled all over the United States, he made a difference in people’s lives in ways that most people could never imagine, and he had Sam, a loyal partner, lover, and best friend.
They got to know a few more hunters, developed a bit of a network of their own, mostly people that Bobby Singer knew and hooked them up with from time to time. Bobby was a brilliant hunter, an intriguing combination of tough love, southern comfort wisdom, and book learned archaism.
“Dean? Where are you boys at?”
Dean looked up at the ceiling, wishing he’d just ignored the ringing of his phone. There weren’t that many people that had his number though, so he figured it was important. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to Bobby, it was just that they’d had a late hunt the night before and a hard time coming down from it so he’d managed to get about three hours of sleep before the phone rang.
“Hey Bobby. Um, we’re in Michigan. Why?”
“Good. I got a friend out in Ohio that needs some help. You don’t have anything else lined up do you?”
“Nah, what’s going on?”
“He thinks he’s got a pair of werewolves.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah.”
“Like howl at the money, silver bullets, man turned monster werewolves?”
“You make it sound like it’s a good thing.”
“Of course not,” Dean said, looking down at Sam. Sam had his chin propped up on Dean’s chest, eyes still half lidded but aware enough to listen in. He covered the phone with one hand. “Werewolves Sammy, how awesome is that?”
“Dean?”
“Yeah Bobby. When and where?”
“Can you be there tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah we can make that. Just email Sammy the time and place and we’ll be there.”
“Thanks Dean. I owe you boys.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I keep meaning it. Just… take it easy with him Dean. This guy is a bit of a loner. He’s got revenge in his head and the rest of this is all just practice for him. He’s not used to working with other people and he tends to piss people off at the drop of a hat.”
“Nice guy. We’ll get on fine Bobby. Sam and I will get the job done, regardless of what type of ass this guy is.”
Sam smiled at that, then dropped his head back down to go back to sleep. The Ohio border wasn’t that far and they still had some time to sleep in.
“What’s his name?”
“John Winchester.”
They got up in the afternoon, not well rested, but rested enough for the road. Sam got the address and then they were on the road, take out in the front seat and miles between themselves and the rhine maidens they’d destroyed.
They only stopped when the Impala needed gas, getting out to stretch their legs and refuel on snacks. When they got to Franklin, Ohio it was already dark so they stopped at a motel and checked in for the night. The drove to the diner they were supposed to meet Winchester at in the morning and grabbed dinner. They went to bed early that night, trying to get their rest before what would probably be an aggressive hunt.
The next morning they were both feeling more energetic. They were at the dinner early, having breakfast as they waited for the other hunter to show. Sam was talking animatedly with his hands and it was one of the ways Dean could tell that his lover was well rested and ready for the next hunt. The more tired or hurt Sam was, the less energy he used to tell his stories. Dean really liked the way Sam used his hands, hell his whole body to tell a story. He wasn’t even sure what he was talking about anymore because his eyes were too focused on Sam’s lips. They were too close together, seated side by side as they waited in the booth for the other man. He knew he had a goofy grin on his face as he listened but then Sam stopped talking and tilted his head.
“Are you listening at all?”
“Of course Sammy.”
“To what?”
“You were talking?”
“About what?”
“Not a clue. I was distracted.”
“By?”
“Your lips.”
Sam looked away for a second but Dean already knew the blush that would be tingeing his cheeks. When Sam looked back at him there was a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. They might not be overly emotional or affectionate all the time, but Dean never hesitated to tell Sam when something he did fascinated him.
Sam opened his mouth to say something but then he stopped, looking up as a shadow crossed their table.
Dean looked up and found himself staring at the grizzled remains of a man. He might have been attractive once but now his face was lined with a scowl that seemed perpetual, and he gazed at them with eyes that looked like there was no light left in the world. They’d met other hunters like that, but they never survived long, too caught up in their need to kill something that they usually got themselves killed pretty quickly in return.
This man was like death walking, a study of a warrior in search of his final battle.
“Winchester?” Dean asked in a soft voice, trying not to spook the man.
“You’re Young and Anderson?”
“Sam,” Sam held his hand out and the other man took it, albeit hesitantly. “And this is Dean,” he said as the other man took a seat across from them.
Dean nodded as the waitress came over with coffee for Sam and Dean and brought a quick mug over for the other hunter as well. He placed his food order and then the waitress was off, leaving them alone.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but Bobby didn’t say anything about babysitting rookies.”
Dean could see Sam dump another packet of sugar into his coffee, joining the two creamers and other two sugars he’d put into the once black liquid, a smile on his lips at the reaction from the older man. He stirred it all up, licking the spoon and smacking his lips loudly as he sat it down on the napkin.
Dean shook his head, a smile creeping out as he rolled his eyes. “One of these days Sammy boy, we’ll make a man out of you and then they’ll have to come up with something original to say.”
“We’ve been hunting together for almost two years,” Sam answered as Dean sat back, drinking his coffee. “Never needed a babysitter, though I suppose we could always make an exception and watch your geriatric ass.”
Dean nearly snorted into his coffee, but managed to keep his reaction under control. Barely. It was a common problem for them when meeting hunters for the first time. People might look at Dean and think he was a bit young for the game, but they thought Sam was a downright child. That normally didn’t last past the first hunt and they were beginning to get a reputation but that didn’t change anyone’s initial reaction. Especially not in a community so full of superstition and mistrust. He watched the other man’s reaction to Sam and was relieved to see a smile twitch at the corner of his lips.
“Fair enough.”
“You think Bobby would stick you with rookies on something like this?”
“If he thought he could get away with it.”
“Yeah?” Dean looked over at Sam and Sam shook his head with a smile. “Yeah, he probably would. We haven’t faced down werewolves yet, but we’ve been around Winchester.”
“It’s John,” the other man said after he regarded them for a moment. “Guess we’ll see how you do tonight then. When we finish eating I can take you back to my motel and show you the research I’ve got on it. We can check out the site of the last attack to get you familiar with its hunting grounds, and then we’ll try to track it tonight.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“Really?” Sam asked.
“Well, you know, we’ll go to his motel and you can look at his research.”
“What’s wrong with you looking at it?” John interrupted.
Dean shook his head. “Nothing at all. I’m more of a doer though and Sam is the researcher.”
“Meaning Dean has the temperament of a bumble bee when it comes to research. You saw something you liked last night?” He asked, ignoring John for a minute.
“Yeah. You pinpointed the other two attacks last night and I saw something I wanted to look at this morning. You can fill me in on the rest when I get back.”
“Gonna let me in on where you’re going?” John asked, his face one part annoyance and one part amusement.
“Don’t worry, Sammy will protect you from the big bad wolves until I get back.”
The waitress chose that moment to come back with their plates, Dean and John with the breakfast special and Sam with his toast and fruit and egg white omelet.
“Hunters don’t eat like that,” John noted as he grabbed a piece of bacon from his plate.
“Hunters don’t normally live long enough to worry about cholesterol. I plan to be the first.”
John let out an honest laugh and the tension that had been slowly dissipating around their table was completely gone. Dean joined the laughter even as he let his hand slide under the table and squeeze Sam’s thigh gently. There were a lot of reasons Dean liked to have Sam around. The back up and the sex were only part of it.
“Sam!”
Sam turned without hesitation, his gun firing into the mass of fur that was riding down on them. Dean was struggling to keep John upright as they moved through the dense forest. The werewolf fell to the ground as Sam’s bullet finally took it through the heart and Sam rushed to the other side of John, trying to help Dean.
“Need to get the last one,” John was saying. Dean wasn’t sure how he was still talking. He’d been thrown by the bigger of the two. Dean didn’t know if he’d broken something or not, but John couldn’t put any weight on his leg. The uneven terrain made it harder to try to get John out even with Sam helping him.
“We will,” Dean reassured the man. “We’re getting you to the car though. Not going to leave you sitting out there in the open while we track this thing.”
“You should. Leave me as bait.”
Dean looked over at Sam and he could just hear his lover’s response over John’s labored breathing. “And Bobby calls us idjits.”
“Keep moving. It’s not gonna come slow when it finds its mate down,” Dean said, adjusting his grip on John’s waist.
“Least we’ll hear it coming.”
“We hope.”
They moved quicker with Sam helping them and they were almost to the car when they heard the blood curdling howl from behind them.
“Looks like he found her.”
Dean didn’t bother to answer Sam, just continued to push until they were at the Impala. They propped John up on the hood where he could sit with a clear vision of the forest around him. Dean handed him his shot gun and then he and Sam were circling the clearing, listening for any signs of where the beast might come from. And come it would. Everything John told them about werewolves said it would come after its revenge.
There was no warning this time as the monster tore out of the woods, making a leap for Dean. Sam must have seen it before Dean though because he was knocked off his feet by his lover. The beast went skidding on the small gravel turnout and growled into the air as it turned to face them.
Sam and Dean both rolled to their feet, side by side with their weapons drawn.
“You alright?” Sam asked without taking his eyes from the beast.
Dean knew what it cost him to trust Dean on that, to ask instead of look, to keep facing the werewolf instead of checking Dean over, so he nodded quickly. “Nothing so bad as rug burn.”
He heard Sam snicker at the inside joke, something stupid and inane but Dean hated rug burn. After a particularly rough hunt and an even rougher night of sex to prove they’d made it out alive, Dean admitted he hated the rug burn more than the twelve stitches Sam had sewn into his skin that night.
“Rug burn later, werewolf now,” Sam answered as he took aim.
They both fired and the beast came charging towards them. John was at an angle to fire as well and Dean heard the sound of the shotgun.
He wasn’t sure which one of them hit it, but Dean and Sam both rolled in opposite directions as it plowed into the ground at their feet. It twitched where it fell and Sam and Dean both unloaded their weapons into it, Sam firing into the brain as Dean turned it over and began firing straight into the heart.
“I think you got it,” John said, a faint smile on his lips as they walked away from the beast.
Sam was already opening the secret compartment in the trunk and reloading his weapon when Dean joined him. He handed his gun to his lover and Sam took it, handing Dean the newly loaded gun. Dean shoved it in the waist of his jeans before grabbing the salt and accelerant.
“Artifacts out here?” Sam asked as he closed the trunk, his gun tucked away already.
“No one is likely to find it here. We’ll mail it on the way out.”
“What are you boys talking about?” John asked.
“We don’t like to salt and burn the victims without letting the families know something happened to them. When we can, we just leave their personal affects at the scene for someone else to find. When we can’t, we take them to a mailbox on the way out of town and send them to the police,” Sam answered as Dean threw salt over the body. It was already turning human and it would only take a few more minutes before they’d be able to get what they needed and burn the bodies.
“That’s gonna bite you in the ass some day,” John said with a shake of the head.
“Maybe, but I can’t imagine having someone I love missing without ever knowing what happened to them. At least the families will know they aren’t coming home. There will be a printed note telling them about the fire in the woods and then they’ll be able to come out and see it themselves. It’s the best we can do.”
“Come on Sammy. Let’s get the other one. It should be ready to burn by now.”
Sam followed him into the woods and they were barely out of sight of the other hunter before Sam had Dean pushed up against a tree, his hands feeling over Dean’s chest. “Take it off,” Sam ordered and Dean didn’t fight him. He shrugged out of his jacket and Sam’s hands were all over him, looking for blood and injury.
“I’m alright Sammy. Told you, I’m fine.”
Sam’s eyes were slightly frantic and Dean knew something else has spooked him tonight so he caught the younger man’s face in his hands and pulled him in, kissing him deep and rough. When Sam’s hands fisted in his shirt he just held on until Sam was relaxing in his arms. “I’m alright,” he said again and this time Sam huffed slightly as he stepped back.
“Yeah, I just. Jesus Dean. Could you do it? Could you be like that old man out there, nothing to live for but revenge?”
Dean shook his head. “Won’t ever have to find out, will I?”
Sam smiled at that. “Nope. If I die before you I’ll haunt your ass.”
“Come on Sammy, let’s finish this.”
The first werewolf had already taken on its former form, Nora Endlas, supermarket clerk and mother of four. Dean took her personal affects like he always did, not wanting Sam to have to look at the humanity in the beast they had killed, and put them in the bag he’d brought. They salted the body then and lit her up, knowing that it was better to burn her now to keep her from coming back to haunt the living.
Dean took the affects of the second victim when the other was well lit. They set him on fire as well, leaving only a wallet, his keys, and his watch to bare witness to the fate of Charlie Morlan.
Sam got John settled into the back of the car and then they were off. “Emergency room?” Dean asked the rear view mirror.
“Nah, I got a friend. I’ll call him over once I get to the motel.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I might have made a nuisance of myself at the hospital when I went looking at the bodies. The staff will remember me and they don’t like me much.”
Dean chuckled at that, but he drove on past the hospital and to the motel where the other hunter was staying. They got him settled into his bed and listened as he called for help.
“Looks like the way you organize things,” Sam said with a smile, looking at the way everything was taped up on the walls of the room.
Dean smiled because it was almost exactly the way he would have put it. He understood the way John thought and that suddenly bothered him. When John hung up Dean looked over at the hunter. “Where’d you learn this?” He asked, breaking one of the main tenets of hunters. You never asked a hunter how they got on the job or how he worked.
John’s eyes hardened a minute before he looked away. “Here and there. A hodgepodge of everything I learned from anyone else. Throw in some good old detective shows too.”
“And you’ve never met us before this hunt?”
Sam looked up at him in surprise and John’s normal blank face was covered in surprise. “You’d think you’d remember meeting me before, don’t you?”
“Yes or no.”
“No, I haven’t met you before. Why the hell are you asking me that?”
He could see the understanding in Sam’s eyes and he hated it for a minute, not knowing where he’d come from or what might have happened to them. He left it alone most of the time, let the sore scab and scar until it was just another wound on his body, but sometimes the goddamn scar itched all to hell.
“Doesn’t matter. Just had to ask.”
John started to open his mouth but then Sam jumped in. “You’re sure you’re okay like this John? We can stay and wait for your friend.”
“Nah, he’s skittish and doesn’t like a crowd,” John said, letting himself get distracted from the questioning.
“Then I guess we better head out,” Sam said, motioning Dean to the door with his head.
Dean nodded as he walked forward and offered John his hand. John shook it and then Sam’s when he came over. “You boys ever need back up, you know where to find me.”
Dean smiled because he knew John wouldn’t offer if he thought they were going to get him killed. Considering the man’s gruff nature he figured it was as good a compliment as they were ever going to get from him.
“You too. Never know when your geriatric ass might need carried out of the woods again.”
John laughed as they walked out and Sam was smiling. When they got to the car, Sam pressed a kiss into the crook of Dean’s neck quickly, an affectionate gesture that rocked Dean hard for its simplicity and unexpectedness.
He looked at Sam and Sam looked back, smiling.
“What was that for?”
“We’re alive. We’re together. You need anything else?”
Dean turned the keys and started the Impala, smiling as he pulled out of the motel parking lot, ready to head to their own. He shook his head as he watched Sam out of the corner of his eye. “Just a little rug burn.”
On to Chapter Five
Sam was passionate about everything he did and his curiosity and energy followed into the bedroom the same as it did everywhere else. There was nothing Sam wouldn’t do or try and if Dean had ever had a more responsive lover he couldn’t remember it. It still bothered him, from time to time, that Sam was young, but Sam always reminded Dean that he was only four years older. When he pressed about getting Sam back into school, Sam countered by suggesting he get his GED since they didn’t know what he’d been doing at school anyway. It was a compromise, but Sam took to the studying like he did research for a hunt and he passed the GED with flying colors. When pressed about college though Sam had pushed Dean back against a wall, kissed him senseless and told him he was right where he wanted to be. After a staggering blow job, Dean had let it drop.
Hunting together had become their life, living in each other’s pockets, bad motel room after bad motel room, and Dean didn’t think he’d ever been happier. He didn’t think he could be even if he regained more than a year and a half of memories. He just didn’t believe it was possible to be more content than he was. He had his car and he travelled all over the United States, he made a difference in people’s lives in ways that most people could never imagine, and he had Sam, a loyal partner, lover, and best friend.
They got to know a few more hunters, developed a bit of a network of their own, mostly people that Bobby Singer knew and hooked them up with from time to time. Bobby was a brilliant hunter, an intriguing combination of tough love, southern comfort wisdom, and book learned archaism.
“Dean? Where are you boys at?”
Dean looked up at the ceiling, wishing he’d just ignored the ringing of his phone. There weren’t that many people that had his number though, so he figured it was important. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to Bobby, it was just that they’d had a late hunt the night before and a hard time coming down from it so he’d managed to get about three hours of sleep before the phone rang.
“Hey Bobby. Um, we’re in Michigan. Why?”
“Good. I got a friend out in Ohio that needs some help. You don’t have anything else lined up do you?”
“Nah, what’s going on?”
“He thinks he’s got a pair of werewolves.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah.”
“Like howl at the money, silver bullets, man turned monster werewolves?”
“You make it sound like it’s a good thing.”
“Of course not,” Dean said, looking down at Sam. Sam had his chin propped up on Dean’s chest, eyes still half lidded but aware enough to listen in. He covered the phone with one hand. “Werewolves Sammy, how awesome is that?”
“Dean?”
“Yeah Bobby. When and where?”
“Can you be there tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah we can make that. Just email Sammy the time and place and we’ll be there.”
“Thanks Dean. I owe you boys.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I keep meaning it. Just… take it easy with him Dean. This guy is a bit of a loner. He’s got revenge in his head and the rest of this is all just practice for him. He’s not used to working with other people and he tends to piss people off at the drop of a hat.”
“Nice guy. We’ll get on fine Bobby. Sam and I will get the job done, regardless of what type of ass this guy is.”
Sam smiled at that, then dropped his head back down to go back to sleep. The Ohio border wasn’t that far and they still had some time to sleep in.
“What’s his name?”
“John Winchester.”
They got up in the afternoon, not well rested, but rested enough for the road. Sam got the address and then they were on the road, take out in the front seat and miles between themselves and the rhine maidens they’d destroyed.
They only stopped when the Impala needed gas, getting out to stretch their legs and refuel on snacks. When they got to Franklin, Ohio it was already dark so they stopped at a motel and checked in for the night. The drove to the diner they were supposed to meet Winchester at in the morning and grabbed dinner. They went to bed early that night, trying to get their rest before what would probably be an aggressive hunt.
The next morning they were both feeling more energetic. They were at the dinner early, having breakfast as they waited for the other hunter to show. Sam was talking animatedly with his hands and it was one of the ways Dean could tell that his lover was well rested and ready for the next hunt. The more tired or hurt Sam was, the less energy he used to tell his stories. Dean really liked the way Sam used his hands, hell his whole body to tell a story. He wasn’t even sure what he was talking about anymore because his eyes were too focused on Sam’s lips. They were too close together, seated side by side as they waited in the booth for the other man. He knew he had a goofy grin on his face as he listened but then Sam stopped talking and tilted his head.
“Are you listening at all?”
“Of course Sammy.”
“To what?”
“You were talking?”
“About what?”
“Not a clue. I was distracted.”
“By?”
“Your lips.”
Sam looked away for a second but Dean already knew the blush that would be tingeing his cheeks. When Sam looked back at him there was a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. They might not be overly emotional or affectionate all the time, but Dean never hesitated to tell Sam when something he did fascinated him.
Sam opened his mouth to say something but then he stopped, looking up as a shadow crossed their table.
Dean looked up and found himself staring at the grizzled remains of a man. He might have been attractive once but now his face was lined with a scowl that seemed perpetual, and he gazed at them with eyes that looked like there was no light left in the world. They’d met other hunters like that, but they never survived long, too caught up in their need to kill something that they usually got themselves killed pretty quickly in return.
This man was like death walking, a study of a warrior in search of his final battle.
“Winchester?” Dean asked in a soft voice, trying not to spook the man.
“You’re Young and Anderson?”
“Sam,” Sam held his hand out and the other man took it, albeit hesitantly. “And this is Dean,” he said as the other man took a seat across from them.
Dean nodded as the waitress came over with coffee for Sam and Dean and brought a quick mug over for the other hunter as well. He placed his food order and then the waitress was off, leaving them alone.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but Bobby didn’t say anything about babysitting rookies.”
Dean could see Sam dump another packet of sugar into his coffee, joining the two creamers and other two sugars he’d put into the once black liquid, a smile on his lips at the reaction from the older man. He stirred it all up, licking the spoon and smacking his lips loudly as he sat it down on the napkin.
Dean shook his head, a smile creeping out as he rolled his eyes. “One of these days Sammy boy, we’ll make a man out of you and then they’ll have to come up with something original to say.”
“We’ve been hunting together for almost two years,” Sam answered as Dean sat back, drinking his coffee. “Never needed a babysitter, though I suppose we could always make an exception and watch your geriatric ass.”
Dean nearly snorted into his coffee, but managed to keep his reaction under control. Barely. It was a common problem for them when meeting hunters for the first time. People might look at Dean and think he was a bit young for the game, but they thought Sam was a downright child. That normally didn’t last past the first hunt and they were beginning to get a reputation but that didn’t change anyone’s initial reaction. Especially not in a community so full of superstition and mistrust. He watched the other man’s reaction to Sam and was relieved to see a smile twitch at the corner of his lips.
“Fair enough.”
“You think Bobby would stick you with rookies on something like this?”
“If he thought he could get away with it.”
“Yeah?” Dean looked over at Sam and Sam shook his head with a smile. “Yeah, he probably would. We haven’t faced down werewolves yet, but we’ve been around Winchester.”
“It’s John,” the other man said after he regarded them for a moment. “Guess we’ll see how you do tonight then. When we finish eating I can take you back to my motel and show you the research I’ve got on it. We can check out the site of the last attack to get you familiar with its hunting grounds, and then we’ll try to track it tonight.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“Really?” Sam asked.
“Well, you know, we’ll go to his motel and you can look at his research.”
“What’s wrong with you looking at it?” John interrupted.
Dean shook his head. “Nothing at all. I’m more of a doer though and Sam is the researcher.”
“Meaning Dean has the temperament of a bumble bee when it comes to research. You saw something you liked last night?” He asked, ignoring John for a minute.
“Yeah. You pinpointed the other two attacks last night and I saw something I wanted to look at this morning. You can fill me in on the rest when I get back.”
“Gonna let me in on where you’re going?” John asked, his face one part annoyance and one part amusement.
“Don’t worry, Sammy will protect you from the big bad wolves until I get back.”
The waitress chose that moment to come back with their plates, Dean and John with the breakfast special and Sam with his toast and fruit and egg white omelet.
“Hunters don’t eat like that,” John noted as he grabbed a piece of bacon from his plate.
“Hunters don’t normally live long enough to worry about cholesterol. I plan to be the first.”
John let out an honest laugh and the tension that had been slowly dissipating around their table was completely gone. Dean joined the laughter even as he let his hand slide under the table and squeeze Sam’s thigh gently. There were a lot of reasons Dean liked to have Sam around. The back up and the sex were only part of it.
“Sam!”
Sam turned without hesitation, his gun firing into the mass of fur that was riding down on them. Dean was struggling to keep John upright as they moved through the dense forest. The werewolf fell to the ground as Sam’s bullet finally took it through the heart and Sam rushed to the other side of John, trying to help Dean.
“Need to get the last one,” John was saying. Dean wasn’t sure how he was still talking. He’d been thrown by the bigger of the two. Dean didn’t know if he’d broken something or not, but John couldn’t put any weight on his leg. The uneven terrain made it harder to try to get John out even with Sam helping him.
“We will,” Dean reassured the man. “We’re getting you to the car though. Not going to leave you sitting out there in the open while we track this thing.”
“You should. Leave me as bait.”
Dean looked over at Sam and he could just hear his lover’s response over John’s labored breathing. “And Bobby calls us idjits.”
“Keep moving. It’s not gonna come slow when it finds its mate down,” Dean said, adjusting his grip on John’s waist.
“Least we’ll hear it coming.”
“We hope.”
They moved quicker with Sam helping them and they were almost to the car when they heard the blood curdling howl from behind them.
“Looks like he found her.”
Dean didn’t bother to answer Sam, just continued to push until they were at the Impala. They propped John up on the hood where he could sit with a clear vision of the forest around him. Dean handed him his shot gun and then he and Sam were circling the clearing, listening for any signs of where the beast might come from. And come it would. Everything John told them about werewolves said it would come after its revenge.
There was no warning this time as the monster tore out of the woods, making a leap for Dean. Sam must have seen it before Dean though because he was knocked off his feet by his lover. The beast went skidding on the small gravel turnout and growled into the air as it turned to face them.
Sam and Dean both rolled to their feet, side by side with their weapons drawn.
“You alright?” Sam asked without taking his eyes from the beast.
Dean knew what it cost him to trust Dean on that, to ask instead of look, to keep facing the werewolf instead of checking Dean over, so he nodded quickly. “Nothing so bad as rug burn.”
He heard Sam snicker at the inside joke, something stupid and inane but Dean hated rug burn. After a particularly rough hunt and an even rougher night of sex to prove they’d made it out alive, Dean admitted he hated the rug burn more than the twelve stitches Sam had sewn into his skin that night.
“Rug burn later, werewolf now,” Sam answered as he took aim.
They both fired and the beast came charging towards them. John was at an angle to fire as well and Dean heard the sound of the shotgun.
He wasn’t sure which one of them hit it, but Dean and Sam both rolled in opposite directions as it plowed into the ground at their feet. It twitched where it fell and Sam and Dean both unloaded their weapons into it, Sam firing into the brain as Dean turned it over and began firing straight into the heart.
“I think you got it,” John said, a faint smile on his lips as they walked away from the beast.
Sam was already opening the secret compartment in the trunk and reloading his weapon when Dean joined him. He handed his gun to his lover and Sam took it, handing Dean the newly loaded gun. Dean shoved it in the waist of his jeans before grabbing the salt and accelerant.
“Artifacts out here?” Sam asked as he closed the trunk, his gun tucked away already.
“No one is likely to find it here. We’ll mail it on the way out.”
“What are you boys talking about?” John asked.
“We don’t like to salt and burn the victims without letting the families know something happened to them. When we can, we just leave their personal affects at the scene for someone else to find. When we can’t, we take them to a mailbox on the way out of town and send them to the police,” Sam answered as Dean threw salt over the body. It was already turning human and it would only take a few more minutes before they’d be able to get what they needed and burn the bodies.
“That’s gonna bite you in the ass some day,” John said with a shake of the head.
“Maybe, but I can’t imagine having someone I love missing without ever knowing what happened to them. At least the families will know they aren’t coming home. There will be a printed note telling them about the fire in the woods and then they’ll be able to come out and see it themselves. It’s the best we can do.”
“Come on Sammy. Let’s get the other one. It should be ready to burn by now.”
Sam followed him into the woods and they were barely out of sight of the other hunter before Sam had Dean pushed up against a tree, his hands feeling over Dean’s chest. “Take it off,” Sam ordered and Dean didn’t fight him. He shrugged out of his jacket and Sam’s hands were all over him, looking for blood and injury.
“I’m alright Sammy. Told you, I’m fine.”
Sam’s eyes were slightly frantic and Dean knew something else has spooked him tonight so he caught the younger man’s face in his hands and pulled him in, kissing him deep and rough. When Sam’s hands fisted in his shirt he just held on until Sam was relaxing in his arms. “I’m alright,” he said again and this time Sam huffed slightly as he stepped back.
“Yeah, I just. Jesus Dean. Could you do it? Could you be like that old man out there, nothing to live for but revenge?”
Dean shook his head. “Won’t ever have to find out, will I?”
Sam smiled at that. “Nope. If I die before you I’ll haunt your ass.”
“Come on Sammy, let’s finish this.”
The first werewolf had already taken on its former form, Nora Endlas, supermarket clerk and mother of four. Dean took her personal affects like he always did, not wanting Sam to have to look at the humanity in the beast they had killed, and put them in the bag he’d brought. They salted the body then and lit her up, knowing that it was better to burn her now to keep her from coming back to haunt the living.
Dean took the affects of the second victim when the other was well lit. They set him on fire as well, leaving only a wallet, his keys, and his watch to bare witness to the fate of Charlie Morlan.
Sam got John settled into the back of the car and then they were off. “Emergency room?” Dean asked the rear view mirror.
“Nah, I got a friend. I’ll call him over once I get to the motel.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I might have made a nuisance of myself at the hospital when I went looking at the bodies. The staff will remember me and they don’t like me much.”
Dean chuckled at that, but he drove on past the hospital and to the motel where the other hunter was staying. They got him settled into his bed and listened as he called for help.
“Looks like the way you organize things,” Sam said with a smile, looking at the way everything was taped up on the walls of the room.
Dean smiled because it was almost exactly the way he would have put it. He understood the way John thought and that suddenly bothered him. When John hung up Dean looked over at the hunter. “Where’d you learn this?” He asked, breaking one of the main tenets of hunters. You never asked a hunter how they got on the job or how he worked.
John’s eyes hardened a minute before he looked away. “Here and there. A hodgepodge of everything I learned from anyone else. Throw in some good old detective shows too.”
“And you’ve never met us before this hunt?”
Sam looked up at him in surprise and John’s normal blank face was covered in surprise. “You’d think you’d remember meeting me before, don’t you?”
“Yes or no.”
“No, I haven’t met you before. Why the hell are you asking me that?”
He could see the understanding in Sam’s eyes and he hated it for a minute, not knowing where he’d come from or what might have happened to them. He left it alone most of the time, let the sore scab and scar until it was just another wound on his body, but sometimes the goddamn scar itched all to hell.
“Doesn’t matter. Just had to ask.”
John started to open his mouth but then Sam jumped in. “You’re sure you’re okay like this John? We can stay and wait for your friend.”
“Nah, he’s skittish and doesn’t like a crowd,” John said, letting himself get distracted from the questioning.
“Then I guess we better head out,” Sam said, motioning Dean to the door with his head.
Dean nodded as he walked forward and offered John his hand. John shook it and then Sam’s when he came over. “You boys ever need back up, you know where to find me.”
Dean smiled because he knew John wouldn’t offer if he thought they were going to get him killed. Considering the man’s gruff nature he figured it was as good a compliment as they were ever going to get from him.
“You too. Never know when your geriatric ass might need carried out of the woods again.”
John laughed as they walked out and Sam was smiling. When they got to the car, Sam pressed a kiss into the crook of Dean’s neck quickly, an affectionate gesture that rocked Dean hard for its simplicity and unexpectedness.
He looked at Sam and Sam looked back, smiling.
“What was that for?”
“We’re alive. We’re together. You need anything else?”
Dean turned the keys and started the Impala, smiling as he pulled out of the motel parking lot, ready to head to their own. He shook his head as he watched Sam out of the corner of his eye. “Just a little rug burn.”
On to Chapter Five