Fic: The Memory of Skye (1/4)
Title: The Memory of Skye
Author: miss_annthropic
Spoilers: set in the Skyeverse (surrounding my fic "Wild by Skye")
Summary: Dean and Sam make a detour to Eclipse River, Oregon. Set after my fic "Wild by Skye".
Timeline: See the timeline for a chronological listing of Skyeverse fics to know where exactly this falls in the timeline. Or, you know, just read the fic and figure it out! Or eat pie. I know which one Dean would vote for :)
Disclaimer: None of it's mine. I'm just a sad little fangirl that spends her days writing fanfic and watching DVDs of her favorite shows :(
Author's Note: There are so many moments I want to tell in this continuation of Wild by Skye, but the Muse is being stubborn, so I am hoping a little encouragement from someone other than me will get her to get serious on this one.
*****
It wasn't always the big, nasty monsters that brought down a Winchester. Sometimes, it was something as common-place as the flu.
It was raining in Oregon. Sam was the one driving. It was midday, though it would be hard to tell by the gray, overcast sky, and the fact Dean was asleep. Sam had seen every level and shade of Dean's sleep cycle, and when he glanced over at his older brother curled against the passenger side window, he could tell it was definitely that 'dead to the world, not even a gunshot would wake me' kind of sleep. Dean rarely slept that hard, except when he was sick or hurt.
In this case, it was sick.
The car was silent but for the sound of the engine and the rain beating on the windshield and roof. When they got in the car to hit the road that morning, Dean had habitually turned on some classic rock, but when Sam was sure his brother had fallen asleep he turned it off. He didn't want to chance an errant drum beat disturbing Dean's rest.
Because Dean did need rest. He'd been taken down hard by this flu. Sickness was just about the only thing that laid him out on his back these days. Since becoming a lycanthrope, injuries didn't keep Dean out of the hunt for long. Turning could heal him twice as fast as a human healed, and he made full use of that handy fact.
But viruses couldn't care less how often Dean turned. Just more proof that Dean might be more than human, but he wasn't superman.
A routine exorcism had taken them to Oregon. It was easy enough fair for the Winchester brothers; the biggest complication was Dean coming down sick. Dean was cranky and ready to be done with the job. When they were, he kept quiet about there being any 'next one', which Sam knew meant Dean needed a break to recoup but Dean would rather eat socks than say that. So he just clammed up and grunted a lot. Sam just knew how to speak Deanese.
Testament to how shitty Dean was feeling, he hadn't even asked where Sam was taking them. He just gave Sam the keys, got in the car, and curled up to sleep through most of the ride.
Which was just as well, because Sam didn't know what Dean would say if he knew where Sam was taking them.
Ever since Dean told Sam the story of how he became a lycan, Sam wanted to visit Eclipse River, Oregon, the home of the lycan pack. Dean was the only lycan Sam had ever known. Sam's only understanding of lycanthropy came from Dean, and Dean himself had confessed he was an unusual lycan.
Sam, ever thirsty for understanding, wanted to meet what Dean would call a 'normal' lycanthrope. He wanted to see Skye's home. He wanted to stand in the place where his brother had been transformed in so many ways.
He was going to stop by Eclipse River. He didn't know what he would find or even what he expected, but it would give Sam more than the few details Dean had given him. Dean didn't talk about Eclipse River much - Sam knew it was because Skye's death was still a painful subject for his brother.
Sam might have put a lid on his curiosity about the Oregon lycan town but for something Dean had told him once about the pack at Eclipse River. "I almost joined Skye's… when they offered to take me."
Dean had almost stayed. Dean, the one who had taken to the nomad lifestyle of the Winchesters almost as wholly as John Winchester, considered settling in one place permanently. When nothing in their strange lives before had ever tempted Dean, Skye's pack had.
For that reason, Sam had to go and see the place that Dean had almost called home.
*************
Dean slept through the day, unaware of Sam taking him back to the place where he'd met, and lost, the love of his life.
When the sign for Eclipse River came into view from behind thick pine trees, Sam looked worriedly over at Dean. Almost as if he knew where they were, Dean was starting to stir. He fidgeted like he might soon wake.
It was too late for Sam to change his mind. He looked forward and kept driving.
The town that bloomed from the thick of the forest was small; it had that sense of quaint and friendly. Unassuming, simple homes on the edges of town became moderate-sized, plainly built establishments as Sam drove the Impala into the heart of the town. It looked above-board and beyond suspicion. If anything, it looked almost too perfect average small-town America.
Sam knew better.
Sam's heart was racing, a lot like the way it had pounded against his ribs when he stepped on to the Stanford campus for the first time. He was in Eclipse River. It looked normal and average enough, but he looked at every passer-by on the sidewalk, and he knew they were likely lycans.
Beings like his brother, but entirely foreign at the same time.
It made his stomach tighten. Nervousness he had not expected. He was never nervous around Dean, of course, but he trusted Dean with his life. Whether Dean was a lycan or not had no bearing on Sam's trust; Dean was his brother and he would never hurt Sam. But these lycans were unknowns. Dean was not dangerous, but what about the rest? Maybe that was part of how Dean meant he was unusual. How would they react to a normal human like Sam who knew their secret?
But he had to see it.
The rain had stopped and the world was heavy with the weight of lingering moisture. Sam pulled the car into a space in front of an old, official-looking building (that looked like it could be a courthouse) fronted by a large lawn.
When Sam shut off the engine, it woke Dean.
"Hmmm… where're we?" he grumbled hoarsely as he stirred from his sleep.
Sam didn't answer, couldn't.
"Smm?" Dean croaked, cracking open his eyes and looking over at his younger brother behind the wheel. Sam suddenly didn't have a clue what he could say to Dean. He'd brought him back to Eclipse River without warning, without asking.
Dean frowned at Sam's silence, turned to take in their surroundings … and froze.
Sam watched Dean warily.
Dean tensed and slowly sat upright in his seat. His feet braced against the floorboard and his knees locked, like a passenger tensing for a collision. He stared forward at the town, his body radiating his building… anger? Annoyance? Discomfort? Sam couldn't tell.
Dean didn't move, didn't speak, for a long time. He stared ahead at the green lawn and stately building, his jaw tight, his breathing shallow, his mood completely unreadable.
Slowly, after what seemed forever, he looked over at Sam. His eyes were cold and gave away nothing. "What are we doing here?" His voice, too, was flat. Sam still had no clue what Dean felt or thought about Sam's detour.
Sam stammered, "I… we were close, and I thought…"
Dean continued to stare at him.
"I… I wanted to see it," Sam finished awkwardly.
Dean just stared.
Sam reached anxiously for the keys dangling from the ignition, suddenly desperate to fix it. "I'm sorry, Dean, I shouldn't have brought you here. We can leave; you don't have to stay."
Before Sam could start the car, Dean opened the door and got out. Sam froze with his fingers ready to turn the key and just watched. Dean walked stiffly on to the verdant lawn, his back to the car and his posture rigid.
Sam hesitated a beat then pocketed the keys, got out, and went after his brother.
Dean stood still with his eyes resolutely directed forward when Sam came up alongside him.
Sam, who had been dying to see the town, suddenly couldn't look at anything other than Dean.
Sam couldn't read his brother at all. If Dean was angry, he wished he would show it. Anger he could deal with, atone for his actions that had incited it, but this non-reaction was harder to bear. He didn't know what to do to make things right if he didn't even know what was wrong.
When the silence became deafening, Sam figured he had to try something. "I am really, really sorry, Dean," Sam said earnestly. "This was a mistake. I should have at least asked first. I just..."
"You just what, Sam?"
Sam swallowed. "I know this place meant a lot to you once, and I wanted to come here."
Dean finally looked toward Sam, still expressionless. "What for?"
Why did he feel the need to be where Dean had been while they were separated? Sam looked down, abashed. "Fill in the holes, I guess."
When Dean didn't speak, Sam looked up and saw the questioning look on his brother's face. Questioning was better than nothingness, so Sam was slightly encouraged. "Truth is… Stanford wasn't always great. When I first got there, it was pretty rough." Dean's attention subtly shifted, went from defensive to attentive. Not quite forgiving, but listening.
Sam had never told Dean about how Stanford had been difficult; he didn't want to admit it in the face of what he gave up in order to go. It had to be worth it. He'd walked out on his family for college, so college couldn't be anything negative. It would make what Sam did wrong. Sam didn't like to linger on those hard days.
But Sam had dragged Dean into the past, and a painful one, so it was only fair. Sam confessed haltingly, "I was in a strange place, and I was alone."
Something gave in Dean's hard look, almost like he ached at the words. "You had Jessica."
Sam's smile twisted into a grimace, the memory of her still sharp and beautiful at once. "I didn't meet her my first day there. For a while, for the first time in my life, I was completely alone." Sam didn't even like thinking about those first painful days, but Dean deserved an answer, and Sam's hard days at Stanford were part of it. "I didn't miss Dad… hardly. He made it hard for me to miss him. But you… man, I missed you a lot."
Dean broke eye contact to look away at the confession. Sam could only guess that maybe it was too close to the mark for him, too.
"I can't count how many times I wondered where you were, what you were doing, if you were all right, and this," Sam lifted a hand to gesture abstractly at the town around them, "is part of that answer. I just… I know I had no right, but I wanted to see it."
Still, Dean didn't give Sam any clues. He pressed his lips together like he was thinking, but he didn't even give any hint of those thoughts. He just stood still and took in everything.
The sheer neutrality of it unsettled Sam; he assumed it meant a great storm was going to erupt to break the stillness.
Hoping he might still forestall the explosion, Sam said, "So I've seen it. We can go now."
When Dean made no move to leave, Sam didn't either. He waited entirely on Dean.
The first sign of emotion was when Dean's brow furrowed. "In over three years, I've never come back here."
It wasn't what Sam had been expecting Dean to say. Sensing Dean might not be angry so much as contemplative, Sam ventured to ask, "Did you ever want to?"
Dean flinched slightly. "Honestly… yeah, sometimes."
Sam nodded like he understood, even if he didn't, and waited to follow Dean's lead. He was curious as hell, but even Sam knew he'd amped out on what he could ask of Dean. He would have to be happy with whatever Dean would volunteer.
"The nights of the full moon mostly," Dean continued, voice barely loud enough to carry. Sam didn't dare to speak on the chance it would make Dean stop. "I never ran with the pack. The timing, when I turned and when Skye…" Dean winced, "when I left, I just never did. And since it was such a huge deal to them… sometimes I wondered what it would be like."
Without another word, Dean began walking in the opposite direction of the car, and Sam fell in step beside him.
************
The lawn of the courthouse building was next to a park fenced by trees. There seemed to generally be more grass than pavement in Eclipse River. Children were playing on the playground equipment watched over by their parents.
Dean kept clear of them all, consciously moving away from other people like a man with a social phobia, cutting a wide berth as he walked with his hands stuffed into his pockets. Sam stayed right by his side and did not question, peculiar as Dean's behavior might seem to him. He could only imagine what it would be like to walk through the Stanford campus again.
For the most part, the Winchester brothers seemed to go unnoticed. They were too far from the kids to worry the parents. The children, as ever, were oblivious in the joy of being alive.
Dean stopped near the trees without cause. Sam halted by his side and watched Dean close his eyes and take in a deep breath. His lips parted to let it out, slow and heavy.
The wind stirred in the trees, and Sam took note of the thick scent of pine.
Sam looked sideways at Dean. His brother still looked tense but not necessarily furious. Sam took his chances and asked, "Are you mad?"
Dean slowly opened his eyes and looked over at his brother. He studied him with a scowl. "I don't know yet."
Not a fantastic answer, but Sam figured that was fair. He nodded acceptance of that promise of potential wrath later. "You want to leave?" Sam asked, at that point willing to do anything Dean wanted.
"I don't know yet."
So instead, they walked. Dean's stride was slow, his posture lacking the bravado and confidence it usually bore. Sam wondered how much of that was the flu still dragging him down and how much was the power of Eclipse River.
The children were playing, chasing one another and shrieking gleefully. Sam's eyes were drawn to them, just for being so animated in a world otherwise so stately and controlled.
There were five of them, all about the same age. The child in front of the mob, the on being chased, veered from her pursuers and bolted toward the two wandering Winchesters.
Startled, Sam stopped. Dean followed suit out of habit.
The leading girl, no more than six years old, raced toward the brothers, her blonde hair flying and her eyes full of life. Sam blinked, taken off guard, when the sparkling blue of her irises, as she charged forward full-tilt, for the briefest moment flashed gold.
Without pause or doubt, the little girl flung herself at Dean, skinny arms wrapping around his legs, and she turned to her chasers and cried between breathless laughs, "Safe!"
Dean was frozen in his spot, understandably surprised, as he looked down at child holding on to him.
The other kids slammed to a stop at the girl's yell. Then Sam's eyes widened at what they did next. The children came no closer, but they paced an invisible perimeter around the girl and her 'base', eyes locked on the girl they had been chasing. They were like a pack of restless wolves. Children but wolves. They were all smiling, every one of them. It was still a game. But Sam could see something else in their eyes that was decidedly animalistic.
Then the oldest boy turned on his heel. "Last one to the merry-go-round is it!" And then the pack of children were streaking off toward the equipment, all loud whoops and laughs.
Then Sam and Dean were left alone with the little girl wrapped around Dean's leg.
She tilted her face up to look at him, her smile suggesting not the slightest flicker of mistrust. "Hi! I'm Whitney!"
Dean looked lost for words.
Sam knelt down and offered up his best smile. "Hi there… I'm Sam."
He didn't get the reaction he had expected. Whitney looked over at Sam and suddenly her entire demeanor shifted. With a small scowl transforming her face, Whitney shied away from Sam, put Dean between her and Sam, and peered out at Sam past Dean's legs.
Sam, baffled, looked up at Dean.
Dean looked like he was trying to swallow a tennis ball.
Whitney reached up and fisted the bottom of Dean's jacket in her hands. "I'm not 'spose to talk to him," she whispered gravely.
Dean cleared his throat, lifted one hand like he might try patting the girl's head, then thought better of it and made a helpless arms-out gesture. "He won't hurt you."
Whitney turned her bright blue eyes up to Dean. "Promise?"
"Promise."
Whitney mulled that over. Before she could come to any conclusion, a woman trotted up to them. "Whitney! What have I told you about…" the mom came close to Dean and slowed to a stop, a different disposition overtaking her. "Oh," was all she had to say when she was near her daughter and the strange man she'd clung to.
"Cute kid," Dean said for lack of anything else.
As with the child, the mother's eyes cut to Sam and held there warily.
Sam stood back up and tried his smile on the mom. She looked no more impressed than Whitney had been.
Then he was forgotten as the mother turned her eyes back to Dean. She stared openly at him. She started to frown in that universal look of one trying to place a familiar face.
Dean ducked his head and looked away.
The mother narrowed her eyes at Dean, opened her mouth, then snapped it shut before uttering a word and sent another look Sam's direction. Sam smiled again, but this time it was half-hearted. He'd been pegged the 'riff-raff' of the pair, obviously. It was a first impression usually aimed at Dean.
"Come on, Whitney," the mother finally said, giving up on placing Dean's face. She held her hand out for her daughter, once more giving Sam an assessing and none-too-pleasant look.
When they were gone, Sam looked to his brother. "What was that about?" Sam asked, though he had a pretty good idea.
Dean looked uncomfortable and edgy. "You're a sore thumb, Sammy."
"They can tell right away that you're…"
"One of them? Yeah, they can."
"Can you tell that fast… with them?"
Dean lifted one eyebrow and looked slowly over Sam, the look on his face just shy of condescending. That Sam would blame on the flu.
Dean didn't respond to Sam's question and just started walking again. Sam gauged how upset Dean actually was (or wasn't) by the fact that Dean still checked his pace and waited for Sam to catch up.
When he did, Sam casually asked, "How?"
"Hmm?"
"How can you… you know, tell?"
"The lycanthrope secret handshake," Dean answered dryly.
Sam smirked and shook his head. Dean couldn't be too upset if he was cracking jokes. At least now Sam understood why Dean was making such a conscious effort to stay well away from others. For whatever reasons, he didn't want to be acknowledged by the residents. He wanted to be a shadow in the background, and staying clear of other lycanthropes was the only way to really do that.
If that was what Dean wanted, Sam would do whatever he could not to draw attention to them (a demanding enough task for someone six foot four). He kept quiet and (hopefully) supportive, but the entire time he wondered just where Dean was going.
****************
Dean obviously had a destination in mind, and of all things it was the edge of town, just before it gave ground to woodlands. Dean walked right up to the edge, stopped, and just stared out at the forest.
When they were kids, something like that would have made Sam think his brother had been sniffing glue. Now, it was normal for Dean to gravitate toward wilderness. It brought to Dean a peace Sam never saw in his brother anywhere else.
Although right now, he wasn't exactly peaceful. Sam still had no reading on Dean's mood; there was tension in his face that could be many things, just not peace.
Sam hated to say anything, but it was starting to get dark and cold, and Dean was still sick. "Dean… it's getting late."
Dean didn't react.
"If you want…" Sam tried, "we could find a hotel in town. Or in the next town over. Or we could just leave all together. I'm good to drive. What do you want to do?"
Dean looked over at Sam, that unreadable expression still in place. "I don't know."
Sam hadn't expected a town to leave Dean so shaken. He still looked pale and drawn from the flu, his skin ashen and his hair spiky with dried sweat. His fever came and went. At that moment, Sam suspected it might be back, but he wasn't brave enough to reach over a hand and check. That was best done when Dean slept (while being mindful of Dean's knife hand).
Sam wanted to follow Dean's lead, whatever that might be, but he realized Dean wasn't really in the kind of shape for making big decisions.
"Okay," he said, "let's go back to the car and find a hotel in the nearest town from here. We'll get some sleep, and in the morning you can decide what you want to do. Will that work?"
Dean opened his mouth to speak, but before he got a word out, a voice behind him called, "Dean?!"
Dean went stock still. His face paled.
Sam looked beyond Dean's shoulder. A woman was hurriedly approaching them. She was older with light brown hair touched by gray. She looked familiar to Sam, but he couldn't put his finger on how; he was certain he'd never met her before.
Dean slowly turned and the woman stopped in front of him. They faced each other for a few dragging seconds, neither one seeming to so much as breathe. The woman gazed up into Dean's face, clearly astounded, then she threw her arms around him.
To Sam's complete shock, Dean immediately hugged her back, his body melting into the contact.
The woman held on to Dean tightly. "It is you, Dean, I can hardly believe it. What are you doing here? When did you get back?" Before Dean could answer any of her questions, she buried her nose in his shoulder, inhaled deeply, and frowned. She drew away to look at him critically. "You smell sick. Are you okay?"
Dean barked out a harsh chuckle. "I'm feeling better."
The woman, unhappy with his answer, reached up to check his forehead for fever. Sam was amazed that Dean let her. She narrowed her eyes. "You feel warm."
"I'm alright, I just caught something."
"Are you hungry? But look who I'm asking, when aren't you hungry? I'm taking you to the diner; Tanya makes amazing chicken noodle soup."
"Yeah, I'll bet she does," Dean said in a soft, hoarse voice.
The woman wrapped her hands around Dean's arm, which he seemed content to allow, then she finally noticed Sam standing behind Dean. She eyed him warily.
That made Dean react. "It's okay… this is my brother, Sam." Dean turned to look back at Sam. "Sam, this is Jaina Lauchlan… Skye's mother."
Sam's eyes widened. He understood now why she looked familiar. Dean's picture of Skye. The two women had the same features, if not the same coloring. Sam stepped forward, "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."
Jaina looked up at Dean. "Your brother?" she asked meaningfully.
Dean smirked affectionately. "Yes, he knows."
Jaina looked uncertain by Dean's answer, but she freed one of her hands from Dean to shake Sam's. "Sam… nice to meet you."
Jaina turned her attention back to Dean, no longer asking a million questions. Her expression was only gentle. "It's good to see you again."
Dean's voice was low, almost emotional, as he whispered, "It's good to see you, too."
Sam stood back acting like he wasn't overhearing the whole thing. He wasn't sure how long the uncomfortable moment might have lasted if Dean hadn't shivered in the rapidly cooling night air. Jaina latched on to him again and started to lead him off. "Come on, Dean… Tanya has just the thing for that crud of yours."
Dean began to leave with Jaina but pulled up slightly, just enough to glance back for Sam. Jaina's mouth set in a thin line, but she didn't speak.
"Sammy?" Dean rasped.
Sam strode forward to walk on the opposite side of Dean from Jaina.
With his brother at his side, Dean went where Jaina led him willingly.
************
Sam felt distinctly like an afterthought as he followed Dean and Jaina back into town. When they reached the main street through Eclipse River, Dean noticeably stiffened. Soon, Sam understood why. People on the street either looked curious or surprised. A few looked outright shocked. No one was apathetic. Sam seemed to go unnoticed next to his lycan brother in a lycan town.
Tanya's Diner was obviously a popular eatery, and just as Jaina made to pull Dean inside, Dean balked. "Jaina..." he began, but seemed lost for words beyond a simple protest. To Sam, he sounded worried.
"It's all right, Dean."
Dean looked dubious.
Jaina frowned thoughtfully at him. Then she smiled as kindly as she could when understanding bloomed. "Oh, Dean... it won't be like that. When we-" she stopped mid-sentence and cut another wary look at Sam, the warmth of her manner chilling a little. Sam offered a smile, but it was fleeting, for he had learned quickly how far his charm and personality did not get him with the lycans.
At Jaina's mistrustful glance, Dean took a step back, gently pulling free of Jaina's hold and ending up standing next to his younger brother. Dean's voice was stronger when he prompted, "When I left the pack?" He looked pointedly at Jaina and waited.
Jaina held her breath a second then forced a smile. "When we offered to accept you into the pack, it was after a majority of the town agreed to it. You're not one of them anymore. You're one of us."
Dean still didn't budge.
Sam slid a few inches closer to his brother and touched his arm in passing. "Come on, man, it's freezing out here, and I don't know about you, but I'm hungry."
Dean glanced at Sam, studied him a moment, then nodded, as a matter of principle shook off Sam's too caring hand, and moved forward. Jaina opened the door and Sam held it there while they filed into the diner.
"Tanya! Look who's back," Jaina called the moment she was inside the diner.
Dean stopped so abruptly that Sam slammed into him from behind.
An elderly woman with her hair pinned in a white bun was standing by the counter with an order pad in hand. She turned at Jaina's voice with a smile on her face. A smile that vanished when she set eyes on Dean. Her mouth hung open and her eyes widened.
The diner went deathly quiet as the other patrons turned to look. To their credit, the stunned silence only lasted a second - the lycans were good at appearing normal to the outside world - but Sam felt their intense focus even when they moved their eyes back to their own plates and companions.
Tanya came around the counter and strode toward the three new arrivals. Her eyes were locked on Dean the whole time. She stopped before him and reached out a hand to grip his upper arm, as though testing to see if he was real.
"Dean?! Boy, when did you get here?" she asked.
"Ah... not long ago."
Tanya half-smiled then she turned a steely gaze on Sam.
"Tanya, this is my brother, Sam," Dean introduced.
Sam wondered if there was any point in being polite, but old habits kicked in anyway. "Nice to meet you."
Tanya looked Sam up and down with an assessing eye, then looked over at Jaina.
It was Dean who answered (sounding quite annoyed in the process), "Sam knows."
Tanya looked sharply at Dean then. "You told him?"
Dean's posture radiated tension. "He's my brother."
Tanya seemed less than pleased with that, but she didn't pursue the matter. She nodded grimly, as if accepting bad news with grace, and dropped her hand from Dean's arm.
"Dean's not feeling well," Jaina jumped in helpfully. "I told him you had just the thing for that."
Tanya eyed Dean shrewdly. "Bet your ass I do. Go have a seat, I'll bring you some of my soup." She looked toward Sam almost reluctantly. "What would you like?"
"Get the meatloaf," Dean advised, "it's awesome."
"Uh, sure, meatloaf," Sam said.
Tanya nodded, turned to see to their food, then stopped and looked back at Dean. "You seen Lucas yet?"
Dean flinched. "No."
"You should... whenever you come to town, first thing you should do is meet with him."
"Who's Lucas?" Sam asked.
Heedless of Sam's question, Jaina said, "I'm sure Lucas is going to know soon, if he doesn't already. Quite a few townspeople recognized Dean on the street."
Tanya made a thoughtful humming sound. "Still, you should go to him. It's only right." Then she left.
"Come on, Dean," Jaina led them toward a vacant table.
"Who's Lucas?" Sam asked again when they were seated, Dean and Sam sharing a bench seat and Jaina sitting across from them.
Dean looked to Jaina expectantly, clearly making her answer Sam's question.
She looked remiss to do it, but then she replied, "Our alpha. He's the leader of our community."
Dean sank down in his seat, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, and scrunched his body down like a petulant preteen. Dean did brusque and blustering more than he did pouting and withdrawn; the latter were usually only part of Dean's hurt or sick repertoire.
To Jaina's words, he provided only a scowl.
Undeterred, Jaina asked, "How long will you be staying?"
Sam looked briefly down at his brother. Dean only offered a stilted shrug. "I'm not sure." Dean sniffled and looked across the table at Jaina. "How's Ramon?"
"He's fine." Jaina faltered. "I mean, you know, as fine as either of us can ever be." She gave a weak smile.
Dean locked up next to Sam. Discomfort and heartache landed hard and heavy on the table.
"I got your letter," Dean finally mumbled, the defensiveness gone from his voice, replaced by that note of heartache Dean's voice took on when he spoke of lost loved ones.
Jaina swallowed. "I wasn't sure you ever got it. When I never heard from you… I worried."
Dean fidgeted uneasily. "Sorry, I didn't mean to… I got it. I just… didn't know what to say." Dean pressed his lips together a second. "But I got the picture… thank you."
Sam thought of the picture Dean was talking about, the one of Dean and Skye together that the elder Winchester brother carried in his wallet. It was the only reason Sam knew what Skye had looked like.
"You're welcome." Jaina looked away a moment, her expression awash with grief just barely contained, then she said, "Tanya's right, you know. You need to see Lucas."
Dean narrowed his eyes like a kid staring at his peas.
"Dean…" Jaina chided softly.
Sam looked between the two. "What's the deal with this Lucas guy?" Sam looked toward his brother. "Did you deck him?"
Dean smiled then, a sly curve of the mouth that would have been a full-out cocky grin if Dean wasn't feeling so under the weather. "Nah… but sure wanted to."
"He did what he had to," Jaina interjected firmly. When Dean just grunted and looked out the window with a stifled cough, Jaina looked toward Sam and seemed to take pity on the poor, confused human. "Dean didn't much care for Lucas."
"Understatement," Dean grumbled.
"He never did anything for you to dislike him."
Dean looked quickly and keenly at Jaina. "He's the reason Skye… he… never mind." Dean frowned angrily and looked out the window again. He looked aloof and dismissive, but Sam could practically feel Dean's body shaking with disguised tension.
Jaina's brow furrowed. "You don't blame Lucas for Skye's death."
Dean brought up a hand and scrubbed his face roughly, then scruffed his hand through his hair, leaving it standing up in haphazard spikes. "No, but… I ran with Skye that night because she was banned from the pack run."
Jaina let slip a knowing smile. "You would have run with Skye anyway, regardless of her sentence."
Dean's breathing faltered, stuttered in and shuddered out. For a second, Sam actually worried Dean would lose control and maybe almost cry at the table. He tensed, wondering how he could get Dean out of the diner before his cracks showed.
Before anything could happen, Tanya returned to the table with a bowl and a plate that she set before the Winchester boys. "Here you are," she said, her look noticeably kinder toward Dean than Sam. Sam didn't bother trying to win her over with his innocent charm - the locals seemed well and fully immune.
Dean quickly curled over his soup bowl and took up his spoon. Sam suspected it was more to turn his face down and hide in his dinner than any real hunger. Dean hadn't had much of an appetite since he came down sick.
The meatloaf, however, was fantastic just as Dean claimed.
Dean ate a few spoonfuls of soup before he glanced up at Jaina again and grumbled, "Town sure seems friendlier than the last time I was here."
Sam and his brother obviously had very different definitions of 'friendly'. He cast a 'seriously?!' look at his brother, who ignored it.
"We weren't so much hostile toward you as afraid of you," Jaina explained.
Dean eyed her dubiously.
"Your kind is the reason we're so few," Jaina continued. "But you were turned more than three years ago, and in that time, you haven't brought the hunters down on us. You kept your word. That went a long way toward proving your loyalty. No lycan died because of you."
Dean paled slightly and put down his spoon. "Yeah, well, I get the feeling not everyone agrees with you on that."
Obviously, Jaina knew exactly what Dean was talking about, even if Sam was baffled. Her expression turned grim. "Jeremy and Skye were close," Jaina said slowly. "They grew up together. The three of them: Skye, Jeremy, and Trey, they were inseparable. It's hard for Jeremy to be the only one left. He just… needed someone to blame."
With a sardonic grunt, Dean leaned back in his seat again. Only Sam noticed that Dean slid fractionally closer to his younger brother in the process. Feeling all the more protective, Sam casually reached across Dean to grab the bottle of ketchup, coming back to his place but marginally closer to Dean, close enough that Sam could feel Dean's body heat where their thighs almost touched.
Dean glanced very briefly at Sam, but the light in his eyes seemed appreciative.
The intervention of Sam caught Jaina's attention and she looked toward the younger Winchester. She seemed to balk a moment, then asked, "How much has Dean told you?"
Sam felt startled into a spotlight, then cleared his throat to speak.
"Dean Winchester," a deep voice resonated from the entrance of the diner.
All talk in the diner came to an abrupt halt. Jaina looked past Sam and sat up straight. Dean went rigid.
Sam felt an uneasy sensation crawl up his spine and raise the hairs on the back of his neck. Slowly, he turned and looked toward the entrance.
There was a man standing in the doorway, and he was looking directly at Dean. He was a dignified figure and about him was a sense of power. Authority. He immediately reminded Sam of John Winchester. Like a reflex, Sam's stomach tightened and his jaw clenched.
The man strode slowly into the diner on a direct path toward the Winchesters.
Sam was so focused on the man, it took him a moment to notice the reaction of all the diners around them. As the man passed, each one of them canted their head to the side.
Before Sam could puzzle that out, he felt Dean insistently nudging him in the shoulder. He wanted out of the seat.
Sam slid out of the booth and Dean followed. Then, quite deliberately, Dean stepped around Sam and stood between him and the new arrival. That made Sam even edgier; it was an overtly protective gesture. This man, for whatever reason, set off Dean's defenses.
The man came to a stop right in front of Dean. The two men stood face to face and looked long and hard at each other. Sam glanced toward Jaina and saw that she was copying the behavior of the others in the diner with her head turned and neck exposed.
Sam looked back Dean and the man.
There was a tense atmosphere around the two men as they stared at one another.
"Lucas," Dean said in a low voice.
The older man just continued to stare.
Sam wasn't sure what was going on, but there was a building discontent that he was sure everyone in the diner felt. Sam looked at the others and they were clearly agitated. Their expressions were tight and some looked almost afraid.
Then, very slowly, Dean turned his head. At great length and noticeable hesitation, he too offered his throat to Lucas.
It was as if the diner let out a collective breath.
The stone of Lucas's face cracked. He almost even smiled. "Dean… it's been years."
"More than three," Dean confirmed. "Last time I saw you was…"
"At the invitation," Lucas finished. Then he looked pointedly at Dean. "Are you back to accept?"
Dean seemed startled by the question. Sam stepped closer to stand behind his brother.
Lucas finally turned his attention to Sam. Any hint of openness or friendliness in his face vanished.
"I'm Sam Winchester," Sam introduced himself, allowing Dean time to collect himself. "I'm Dean's brother." Remembering the gesture all the others had presented to Lucas, Sam followed their example and presented the side of his throat, too.
Unexpectedly, Lucas chuckled. Sam looked back at him, and the man looked no gentler for his amusement. "I don't expect that of your kind." Then Lucas looked at Dean and asked pointedly, "He knows?"
"He's no threat," Dean answered.
Lucas lifted one eyebrow. "Is he a hunter?"
Dean stiffened.
Sam stepped forward and to the side to stand alongside his brother. "Sir… I understand your… caution, but Dean's right. I assure you that I'm no threat to you."
"We'll see," Lucas rumbled.
"Lucas…" Jaina got up and came next to the Winchester boys. "Dean's not feeling well… couldn't this wait until later?"
Lucas looked between the two Winchesters, his gaze considerably longer on Sam, then he said, "Of course." He looked toward Dean, notably excluding Sam. "You're welcome here, Dean." Then, with a dominating sweep of his eyes over the diner patrons, he left.
Dean visibly relaxed. He turned to Jaina and shook his head, "I heard all of that before, 'we'll see', only he was talking about me."
"Try to see his side of it," Jaina said, "you came back and brought another hunter with you."
"It's just Sam."
"Gee, thanks, Dean," Sam grumbled.
Dean cast him a long-suffering look and said to Jaina, "I mean Sam's not the type to hurt anyone. He's a hunter, yes, but he doesn't see us as dangerous."
"Well, forgive those of us who don't see the difference," Jaina responded, softening her words with a touch to Dean's arm. "Some in town are going to see Sam being here as the worst fears about your change coming true."
"You mean people like Jeremy," Dean said pointedly.
Jaina sighed. "I don't want to argue, Dean. We can talk about it tomorrow if you really insist on questioning centuries of our survival wisdom."
"Sounds awesome," Dean groaned, then sniffled as he turned to Sam. "Well, let's find a motel. Looks like we're sticking around, at least for now."
"Don't do that," Jaina interjected. "You already have a place to stay."
Dean eyed Jaina warily, "We do?"
Jaina smiled thinly and took his arm again. "Come on."
**************
From his place standing in front of the Impala's grill, Sam looked from the house to Dean. When he saw the look on Dean's face, his attention stayed on his brother. Dean looked like he was going to throw up.
"I don't understand," Dean croaked as he stared up at the small house in front of them.
Jaina held something small out to Dean and pressed it into his palm. When she drew her hand away, Sam saw a key lying in Dean's hand.
"It's yours," Jaina said gently.
Dean glanced down at the key in his hand, dumbstruck, then at Jaina. "I don't get it."
That earned Dean a smile, like he was a little boy and Jaina every inch a mother. "What's there to get? It belongs to you," Jaina answered.
"But… how? We were never… and I never signed anything or…"
Jaina laughed. "Of course you didn't. Men have their laws, and we have ours. You were Skye's mate. What was hers is yours." Jaina looked sadly at the house, a small smile on her lips. "It's almost exactly how she left it."
Sam watched Dean closely, worried how he might be handling this latest unexpected news.
"I… I thought you said you'd cleaned it out. In your letter, you said you went through her things."
Jaina pressed her lips together tightly for a second. "At first I just cleaned out the perishables. Then, later, I put the sheets away, covered the furniture, developed the film in her camera when I saw it on the bookshelf… things like that. Sometimes someone in the pack would need odds and ends, a lamp or toaster that I knew Skye would have been happy to loan them… but her personal possessions are still here, and most of her belongings…" Jaina paused then said, "it wasn't ours to give away. It was yours."
Dean turned to Jaina. "Before I left, or in your letter… why didn't you tell me?"
"Lucas forbade it. He said the thirst for material possessions shouldn't be the reason you came back. He said if you were truly pack, your heart would lead you home."
Dean swallowed thickly and closed his fingers over the key.
Jaina moved closer to Dean. "Would you like me to go in with you?"
"No," Dean said thickly, his jaw tight and shoulders tense. He looked like a rubber band stretched too taut and ready to break. Even on the hunt, Sam rarely saw his older brother that tightly wound.
"All right…" Jaina said, backing off slightly, "you'll come see me tomorrow?"
Dean only nodded.
Jaina seemed to accept that and moved away from Dean. Her eyes fell on Sam, briefly, and she looked torn on how to react. In the end, she gave a polite smile and left.
Leaving the two brothers alone in front of the house.
Sam felt like he was standing next to a rabid dog ready to snap. He looked carefully over at Dean and spoke hesitantly, "Umm… hey… we don't have to go in, you know."
Dean's face set in determination and without answering he moved toward the house. Sam, not all sure this was such a good idea, followed a few steps behind.
Dean opened the door with the key given to him by Jaina. He stepped inside almost as if he expected an attack. Fleetingly, Sam wished he had a gun on him… when Dean was rigid like that, Sam was trained from childhood to be backup.
But there was no attack from the empty house. Only thick silence, the heaviness of air in the wake of the dead.
It had the feel of a place long abandoned. The furniture was covered and there was a dusty smell in the air. Dean stopped in the living room and seemed to get lost in the ghosts only he could see, the kind Winchesters couldn't shoot full of rock salt.
Intent on giving his brother some space, Sam left Dean's side and explored the house on his own a bit. It wasn't big, but Sam could imagine how it would be cozy if the place had some life back in it. Two bedrooms, a small spare room, the living room, kitchen, and a master bathroom.
It was all so normal, and Sam tried to imagine Dean here calling it home. He couldn't see it.
In the hallway, he stopped at a row of hung photographs. One was of Jaina with a man her own age, only with a darker complexion. Skye's parents. Another picture had three children about the same age, eight or nine years, two boys and a girl in the middle. They reminded Sam of the pack children he'd seen earlier. Even their grins seemed somehow wolfish… feral. The third picture made Sam stop dead in his tracks. That photograph Skye's mother must have added after Skye died. It was Dean and Skye. The camera was obviously put on the ground… in the foreground were blurry outlines of blades of grass. Beyond them Dean lay on his back on the grass, smiling up at Skye who was on top of him, braced on her hands and knees and smiling back down at him, her hair falling down over one shoulder. Dean's hands were almost absently on her hips… absent in the way only hands that belonged there could be. Sam recognized their clothes… this picture was taken on the same day as the photo Dean carried in his wallet. They looked so happy together. Sam suddenly thought of Jessica, her smile as she held out a plate of freshly-baked cookies like bait, and he had to look away from the picture.
He wandered back toward the living room and found Dean standing stock still at the entrance to the master bedroom. He looked ghostly pale, his jaw muscles jumping and his hands fisted at his side.
Sam came up alongside Dean and saw that Dean was staring at the bed.
The realization made Sam ache for his brother. No question why seeing that bed was making Dean look ready to either pass out or throw up.
"You okay?" Sam asked gently.
Dean swallowed thickly. "Not really, Sammy."
Sam frowned, lifted a hand to touch Dean's shoulder, then thought better of it and dropped his hand helplessly to his side.
"We could still leave," Sam offered softly.
Dean took a deep, bracing breath. He held it, froze, then exhaled.
"If you're not comfortable…" Sam said, his tone leaving the statement open for Dean to finish.
Dean looked torn for a second, like he wanted to go just as much as he wanted to stay, and either one would be painful, then he wearily brought up a hand and pinched his temples. "No... let's just... we're here. The sheets are in the spare bedroom closet."
Sam nodded agreement; he wouldn't make Dean say more.
Together, the brothers put clean sheets on the bed in the master bedroom, then they fixed up the bed in the spare bedroom for Sam. By the time they finished, it was late and Dean looked wiped out. Testament to the fact he was still feeling under the weather, he actually admitted it, too. "All right, I'm throwing in the towel," Dean grunted and turned toward the master bedroom only to pause uncertainly, as if the bedroom held a dangerous animal he dreaded to face. Sam knew from experience memories could be almost as cowing as a Black Dog.
Sam started to reach for Dean's shoulder, determined to be a comfort somehow, when Dean said, "Sam?"
Sam drew up his hand shy of touching Dean. "Yeah?"
Dean turned to look at his younger brother, his expression unreadable once more. "You should have asked me before bringing us here."
Sam looked down contritely. "I know, Dean. I'm sorry... I had no right to make you face all this again."
Dean's look hardened. "No, you didn't. But that's not even what I mean. This place might not be safe for you." With that, Dean went into the master bedroom and almost shut the door, leaving it open a crack so he could listen to the rest of the house. Something told Sam it was more than just Dean's over-protective big brother streak that made him do it.
Sam stared for a second at the bedroom door behind which Dean had disappeared. He wasn't tired yet, too wound up after seeing Eclipse River and meeting some of its residents. As quietly as he could, Sam went through the living room and kitchen, uncovering furniture and absently dusting off counters with a swipe of his hand. Maybe it would seem less ghostly to Dean in the morning if it didn't look so much like the home of the deceased.
He noticed a few things, being trained for observation as he was. The most obvious were that the electricity and water were still on (Sam didn't know who had been paying them all these years). There was even a wash towel setting out next to the sink. There were still canned goods in the kitchen cabinets and an answering machine hooked up to the telephone. The house wasn't closed up and forgotten. It had all the indications of a place waiting for its owner to come home any day.
It had been left in wait for Dean.
Satisfied the house was as good as he could get it for the time being, Sam went to turn in for the night.
On his way back down the hall, Sam stopped again and stared at the hung photograph of Dean and Skye. They were a very attractive couple. Sam didn't have to be into guys to know it was just pure fact that Dean was good-looking. All the women who gave him the hungry eyes were proof of that. Sam did know from personal judgment that Skye was beautiful. He could easily see Dean falling for her.
Sam stared at her in the picture and wished he had met her. If she hadn't died, how would their lives be different now? Would Dean have married Skye, moved in with her? Hell, would they have children?
It was a Dean Winchester Sam could not really imagine, but looking at the picture of Dean and Skye, it didn't seem so impossible. Maybe Sam didn't know his brother down to the core like he thought he did.
It made him think of Jessica, and the life so far from his upbringing he had been so bound and determined to build with her. Maybe, deep down, the things he and Dean wanted were more alike than Dean would ever admit.
With a sad smile to himself, Sam went to the guest bedroom and went to sleep.
******************
Not unexpectedly, Sam was up before Dean the next morning. Sam intended to let Dean sleep as long as his brother would stay down. He slipped into the master bedroom and checked on Dean, who was lying curled on his side sleeping. Dean only slept curled up when he wasn't well, otherwise it was on his stomach or his back. Dean only snored if he was congested, too… not a sawing sound so much as a rhythmic wheezing. Sam wondered if all siblings knew so much about each other, or if it was a byproduct of the uniquely Winchester upbringing they'd had, living so wholly in the same space.
Sam fished Dean's jeans off the floor and dug into the pockets until he found the keys to the car. After a second, he took out Dean's cell phone, too, so if it rang it wouldn't wake Dean up.
Sam went out to the car and brought in their bags, setting them both on the couch in the living room. He and Dean had both crashed in what they wore into the house last night, but morning meant necessities like a change of clothes and a toothbrush.
Sam set about taking care of his sick brother first. He knew Dean would just pull on the same jeans from yesterday, but Sam rooted around in the bottom of Dean's bag and found his hoodie, the one Sam only ever saw Dean wear when he was sick. It was like a child's teddy bear or a baby's blanket - Dean found comfort in it. Dean would never confess as much, but the hoodie had stuck with Dean for years, always at the bottom of the bag in wait. It was faded and worn, and Sam held it in his hands a second before sneaking back into the bedroom and laying it on the end of the bed near Dean's feet.
Sam brushed his teeth, put on a change of clothes, and was contemplating going out and finding something to bring back for breakfast when a knock at the door startled him. From the bedroom, Dean grumbled sleepily then settled.
Sam went quickly to the door to answer it before the person knocked again.
He opened the door to find a young woman standing there with a toaster in her hands. She was about Sam's age with straight, dark blonde hair and green eyes that widened when she saw Sam.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, "You're the brother." It sounded distinctly awkward, like Sam made her uncomfortable on sight.
It seemed Sam wouldn't have much of his own identity in Eclipse River beyond 'the brother' and 'the non-lycan hunter' while he was in town. He snorted and stepped out on to the porch, closing the door behind him to keep the noise from reaching Dean. "My name's actually Sam."
The woman took a step back and stared at him uneasily a moment. Her gaze was unwavering and almost uncomfortable for its intensity. Then she introduced herself. "Selene."
Then there was a strained silence as they looked at one another.
"I brought back Dean's toaster," Selene finally said, holding up the appliance in her hands.
Sam looked down at it, baffled. "Um… okay?"
A crinkle formed between Selene's brows and she seemed to weigh the decision to explain to him or not. "Jaina let me borrow it a while back, and when I heard Dean was home…"
Sam smiled thinly at the way she so confidently called Eclipse River's Dean 'home' and took the toaster from her. "I'll take it in. Dean's asleep right now." When Selene didn't budge from her place, Sam resisted a sigh and asked, "Was there something else?"
Selene opened her mouth, closed it uncertainly, then stopped to study him again. She narrowed her eyes, the corners of her mouth tugged downward, then she asked in a surprisingly gentle voice, "How's he been?" She seemed genuinely concerned about Dean's well-being.
"Fine, I guess," Sam hedged, not really comfortable talking about his brother with this stranger.
"Good." Selene nodded to herself. "Good." She glanced up and the look on Sam's face must have plied her. She clarified, "The way he was when he left… none of us was sure he'd be okay. Then there was no word from him, and... I'm glad he's okay."
Despite himself, Sam was curious. He'd been away at Stanford when Dean found - and lost - the love of his life. By the time Dean came and got Sam at college, the wound was scabbed over and Dean was more or less the same big brother Sam remembered (besides the whole lycanthropy thing).
"He was pretty tore up, huh? When Skye died?" Sam opened in his best conversational tone, the one that worked to get people talking when he and Dean were looking for information on a hunt from civilians. Sam was the people person of the Winchester hunting team for a reason.
"Yeah…" Selene frowned to herself, crossing her arms over her chest. She spared a glance at Sam and seemed swayed by the look of worry on the younger Winchester's face. "You know, a lot of us in town, we didn't really believe he loved her until we saw how he acted when he lost her."
Sam could only imagine. He remembered what it was like to lose Jess, but trying to imagine Dean like that was hard. Dean didn't let people outside the family get that close. He insulated himself against that kind of pain.
But the idea of Dean letting go and falling in love like that honestly kind of scared Sam. He knew (as the little brother Dean had always protected like nothing else in the world mattered) that Dean's devotion and love could be diamond-hard and to the core. He had the capacity to be helplessly committed, locked on like a ballistic missile (which Sam always suspected was the reason Dean kept his relationship with women so casual - he knew he was prone to fall hard if he let down his guard).
Dean fell hard for Skye, and he lost her.
In the middle of his ruminations, Sam felt himself being watched. He looked up and saw Selene was giving him the critical eye again, part wary assessment and part of her dying to ask him something.
"What?"
Selene pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "You're a Barely… doesn't it bother you? What your brother is?"
"No. Should it?" Sam returned airily.
Selene looked taken aback by Sam's nonchalance. She pursed her lips in thought. "You're a hunter, aren't you?"
"I'm Dean's brother first." Sam scowled at Selene. "Are you actually suggesting I would hunt my own brother?"
"Isn't that what your kind does when they don't understand something? Kill it?"
Sam wanted to argue in his own defense, but the truth was he imagined any other hunter would shoot first, ask questions later. Even their own father, when he found out what Dean was, could think only of killing the wolf.
"Being a lycanthrope makes Dean happy," Sam answered finally, "he loves being the wolf. That's all I need to know."
Selene didn't have a response to that, but there was a lot said in her face. She looked surprised, then contemplative, and Sam could almost swear some of her animosity dissipated as she stood facing him and turning over his words.
Finally, she broke from standing rooted on the spot. "Tell Dean it's good to have him home… Sam." His name seemed to come out with effort, but she at least made the effort. Sam would take from that what encouragement he could. He really wanted to prove to these people, to the lycanthrope pack that Dean had almost joined, that he was not a threat.
"I will… thanks for the… toaster," Sam finished lamely.
Selene's green eyes glinted with something (maybe humor), then she turned and left.
Sam watched her leave, wondering if everyone in Eclipse River was going to be so hard to convince, when Dean's cell phone, stuffed in his pants pocket, began to sound out a classic rock tune.
Sam put the toaster down on the porch rail and retrieved the phone.
"Hello."
There was a breath, a pause. "Sam?"
Sam reflexively locked up. "Dad?"
"Where's your brother?"
Sam felt his jaw tense. "He's here. He hasn't been feeling well, so I'm letting him sleep in. What is it, Dad?" Their father never called just to say hi.
"I needed him to look up something in my journal. Something I wrote down years ago about a possible hunt… didn't know if it would ever come in handy. Now I need it."
"What are you hunting?"
"Don't worry about that," John said gruffly.
Sam fumed silently and briefly entertained the notion of hanging up. Sam didn't get along with John on a good day, but the last time the brothers had seen their father, John had tried to tear the wolf out of Dean. And damn near succeeded. He'd backed off under the pressure of both brothers to protect Dean's new identity, but John had not accepted it by any means when they parted ways.
"I can look it up for you," Sam bit out between clenched teeth.
"Fine." John paused a beat. "How's Dean?"
"I told you, he's sick."
"I mean is he still… you know."
Sam frowned. "That's not exactly something that's going to go away."
"He hasn't changed his mind about ridding himself of it?"
Sam really did almost hang up then. "No, Dad. Can't you accept that this is who he is now? That this is what he wants?"
"I might if it made a damn bit of sense," John growled. "But Dean should know better."
The emphasis made Sam's skin crawl. "Oh, so if this was me you wouldn't be shocked at all, right? Just another predictable screw-up by the black sheep of the family."
"I just called for a note out of my journal," John retorted. "You're the one turning it into an argument, Sam."
Sam growled under his breath as he marched toward the Impala, "Hold on." He went to the trunk and began digging around for John's journal.
"You boys on a hunt?" John asked to fill the silence.
"Just finished a job," Sam answered evenly. "We're… visiting some old friends for a few days."
"Where are you?"
"Eclipse River, Oregon," Sam answered off-handedly as he found the journal and closed the trunk to use it as a makeshift desk.
There was a dead-silent pause on the phone line. "… Oregon… Eclipse River?"
"Yeah. I've got the journal, Dad, now what did you want out of it?"
John explained to Sam what he was looking for, and a lifetime of learning his father's scrawl and sense of organization made it fairly easy for Sam to find the obscure tidbit scribbled in the margin of a full page that John was after.
"That's all I needed," John said to wind up the call, "take care of your brother, Sam."
"You know I will." Without further parting words, Sam closed the phone and replaced the journal in the trunk.
A second later, Dean came shuffled out the front door barefoot in jeans and his hoodie. His hair was in disarray, his eyes sleepy, and he yawned before spotting his brother.
"Yo, Sammy… you get breakfast?"
Sam smirked as he approached the house. "Did I or will I?"
Dean offered up an exaggerated cough. "You'd make a sick person go out?"
Sam smiled. Dean only played the sick invalid card when he was feeling markedly better. He looked better, too. Not so pale or sweaty, and on closer inspection his eyes were free of that glassy look from yesterday.
"The air would do you good," Sam said as he mounted the stairs. "Go shower, then let's go eat."
Dean grumbled as he turned, "Ungrateful… all the times I doted on your sick ass when you were little… you'd think a little gratitude…" he looked to the side, stopped, and frowned. "Is that a toaster?"
************
Whatever his social failings, certain things could be said about John Winchester. He was meticulous and methodical on a hunt. He never gave up. He would seek out and take revenge on anything that hurt his family.
His hunt for the demon that killed his Mary, now ongoing for more than two decades, was still his all-consuming mission. He would find that son of a bitch and make it pay for what it did to Mary. That demon was John's first target, his primary goal, the first and foremost evil to suffer for crossing the Winchesters.
But now there was a second foe in John Winchester's sights. Someone had turned his oldest boy into a creature. A lycanthrope. A Winchester was harmed by the supernatural, and John Winchester would hunt it down and kill it. That was what John Winchester did. And now John had a likely town where the culprit to Dean's change could be found.
It didn't matter to him which order he killed them in, as long as they both paid in blood. That was the price for messing with the Winchesters.
Next
Author: miss_annthropic
Spoilers: set in the Skyeverse (surrounding my fic "Wild by Skye")
Summary: Dean and Sam make a detour to Eclipse River, Oregon. Set after my fic "Wild by Skye".
Timeline: See the timeline for a chronological listing of Skyeverse fics to know where exactly this falls in the timeline. Or, you know, just read the fic and figure it out! Or eat pie. I know which one Dean would vote for :)
Disclaimer: None of it's mine. I'm just a sad little fangirl that spends her days writing fanfic and watching DVDs of her favorite shows :(
Author's Note: There are so many moments I want to tell in this continuation of Wild by Skye, but the Muse is being stubborn, so I am hoping a little encouragement from someone other than me will get her to get serious on this one.
*****
It wasn't always the big, nasty monsters that brought down a Winchester. Sometimes, it was something as common-place as the flu.
It was raining in Oregon. Sam was the one driving. It was midday, though it would be hard to tell by the gray, overcast sky, and the fact Dean was asleep. Sam had seen every level and shade of Dean's sleep cycle, and when he glanced over at his older brother curled against the passenger side window, he could tell it was definitely that 'dead to the world, not even a gunshot would wake me' kind of sleep. Dean rarely slept that hard, except when he was sick or hurt.
In this case, it was sick.
The car was silent but for the sound of the engine and the rain beating on the windshield and roof. When they got in the car to hit the road that morning, Dean had habitually turned on some classic rock, but when Sam was sure his brother had fallen asleep he turned it off. He didn't want to chance an errant drum beat disturbing Dean's rest.
Because Dean did need rest. He'd been taken down hard by this flu. Sickness was just about the only thing that laid him out on his back these days. Since becoming a lycanthrope, injuries didn't keep Dean out of the hunt for long. Turning could heal him twice as fast as a human healed, and he made full use of that handy fact.
But viruses couldn't care less how often Dean turned. Just more proof that Dean might be more than human, but he wasn't superman.
A routine exorcism had taken them to Oregon. It was easy enough fair for the Winchester brothers; the biggest complication was Dean coming down sick. Dean was cranky and ready to be done with the job. When they were, he kept quiet about there being any 'next one', which Sam knew meant Dean needed a break to recoup but Dean would rather eat socks than say that. So he just clammed up and grunted a lot. Sam just knew how to speak Deanese.
Testament to how shitty Dean was feeling, he hadn't even asked where Sam was taking them. He just gave Sam the keys, got in the car, and curled up to sleep through most of the ride.
Which was just as well, because Sam didn't know what Dean would say if he knew where Sam was taking them.
Ever since Dean told Sam the story of how he became a lycan, Sam wanted to visit Eclipse River, Oregon, the home of the lycan pack. Dean was the only lycan Sam had ever known. Sam's only understanding of lycanthropy came from Dean, and Dean himself had confessed he was an unusual lycan.
Sam, ever thirsty for understanding, wanted to meet what Dean would call a 'normal' lycanthrope. He wanted to see Skye's home. He wanted to stand in the place where his brother had been transformed in so many ways.
He was going to stop by Eclipse River. He didn't know what he would find or even what he expected, but it would give Sam more than the few details Dean had given him. Dean didn't talk about Eclipse River much - Sam knew it was because Skye's death was still a painful subject for his brother.
Sam might have put a lid on his curiosity about the Oregon lycan town but for something Dean had told him once about the pack at Eclipse River. "I almost joined Skye's… when they offered to take me."
Dean had almost stayed. Dean, the one who had taken to the nomad lifestyle of the Winchesters almost as wholly as John Winchester, considered settling in one place permanently. When nothing in their strange lives before had ever tempted Dean, Skye's pack had.
For that reason, Sam had to go and see the place that Dean had almost called home.
*************
Dean slept through the day, unaware of Sam taking him back to the place where he'd met, and lost, the love of his life.
When the sign for Eclipse River came into view from behind thick pine trees, Sam looked worriedly over at Dean. Almost as if he knew where they were, Dean was starting to stir. He fidgeted like he might soon wake.
It was too late for Sam to change his mind. He looked forward and kept driving.
The town that bloomed from the thick of the forest was small; it had that sense of quaint and friendly. Unassuming, simple homes on the edges of town became moderate-sized, plainly built establishments as Sam drove the Impala into the heart of the town. It looked above-board and beyond suspicion. If anything, it looked almost too perfect average small-town America.
Sam knew better.
Sam's heart was racing, a lot like the way it had pounded against his ribs when he stepped on to the Stanford campus for the first time. He was in Eclipse River. It looked normal and average enough, but he looked at every passer-by on the sidewalk, and he knew they were likely lycans.
Beings like his brother, but entirely foreign at the same time.
It made his stomach tighten. Nervousness he had not expected. He was never nervous around Dean, of course, but he trusted Dean with his life. Whether Dean was a lycan or not had no bearing on Sam's trust; Dean was his brother and he would never hurt Sam. But these lycans were unknowns. Dean was not dangerous, but what about the rest? Maybe that was part of how Dean meant he was unusual. How would they react to a normal human like Sam who knew their secret?
But he had to see it.
The rain had stopped and the world was heavy with the weight of lingering moisture. Sam pulled the car into a space in front of an old, official-looking building (that looked like it could be a courthouse) fronted by a large lawn.
When Sam shut off the engine, it woke Dean.
"Hmmm… where're we?" he grumbled hoarsely as he stirred from his sleep.
Sam didn't answer, couldn't.
"Smm?" Dean croaked, cracking open his eyes and looking over at his younger brother behind the wheel. Sam suddenly didn't have a clue what he could say to Dean. He'd brought him back to Eclipse River without warning, without asking.
Dean frowned at Sam's silence, turned to take in their surroundings … and froze.
Sam watched Dean warily.
Dean tensed and slowly sat upright in his seat. His feet braced against the floorboard and his knees locked, like a passenger tensing for a collision. He stared forward at the town, his body radiating his building… anger? Annoyance? Discomfort? Sam couldn't tell.
Dean didn't move, didn't speak, for a long time. He stared ahead at the green lawn and stately building, his jaw tight, his breathing shallow, his mood completely unreadable.
Slowly, after what seemed forever, he looked over at Sam. His eyes were cold and gave away nothing. "What are we doing here?" His voice, too, was flat. Sam still had no clue what Dean felt or thought about Sam's detour.
Sam stammered, "I… we were close, and I thought…"
Dean continued to stare at him.
"I… I wanted to see it," Sam finished awkwardly.
Dean just stared.
Sam reached anxiously for the keys dangling from the ignition, suddenly desperate to fix it. "I'm sorry, Dean, I shouldn't have brought you here. We can leave; you don't have to stay."
Before Sam could start the car, Dean opened the door and got out. Sam froze with his fingers ready to turn the key and just watched. Dean walked stiffly on to the verdant lawn, his back to the car and his posture rigid.
Sam hesitated a beat then pocketed the keys, got out, and went after his brother.
Dean stood still with his eyes resolutely directed forward when Sam came up alongside him.
Sam, who had been dying to see the town, suddenly couldn't look at anything other than Dean.
Sam couldn't read his brother at all. If Dean was angry, he wished he would show it. Anger he could deal with, atone for his actions that had incited it, but this non-reaction was harder to bear. He didn't know what to do to make things right if he didn't even know what was wrong.
When the silence became deafening, Sam figured he had to try something. "I am really, really sorry, Dean," Sam said earnestly. "This was a mistake. I should have at least asked first. I just..."
"You just what, Sam?"
Sam swallowed. "I know this place meant a lot to you once, and I wanted to come here."
Dean finally looked toward Sam, still expressionless. "What for?"
Why did he feel the need to be where Dean had been while they were separated? Sam looked down, abashed. "Fill in the holes, I guess."
When Dean didn't speak, Sam looked up and saw the questioning look on his brother's face. Questioning was better than nothingness, so Sam was slightly encouraged. "Truth is… Stanford wasn't always great. When I first got there, it was pretty rough." Dean's attention subtly shifted, went from defensive to attentive. Not quite forgiving, but listening.
Sam had never told Dean about how Stanford had been difficult; he didn't want to admit it in the face of what he gave up in order to go. It had to be worth it. He'd walked out on his family for college, so college couldn't be anything negative. It would make what Sam did wrong. Sam didn't like to linger on those hard days.
But Sam had dragged Dean into the past, and a painful one, so it was only fair. Sam confessed haltingly, "I was in a strange place, and I was alone."
Something gave in Dean's hard look, almost like he ached at the words. "You had Jessica."
Sam's smile twisted into a grimace, the memory of her still sharp and beautiful at once. "I didn't meet her my first day there. For a while, for the first time in my life, I was completely alone." Sam didn't even like thinking about those first painful days, but Dean deserved an answer, and Sam's hard days at Stanford were part of it. "I didn't miss Dad… hardly. He made it hard for me to miss him. But you… man, I missed you a lot."
Dean broke eye contact to look away at the confession. Sam could only guess that maybe it was too close to the mark for him, too.
"I can't count how many times I wondered where you were, what you were doing, if you were all right, and this," Sam lifted a hand to gesture abstractly at the town around them, "is part of that answer. I just… I know I had no right, but I wanted to see it."
Still, Dean didn't give Sam any clues. He pressed his lips together like he was thinking, but he didn't even give any hint of those thoughts. He just stood still and took in everything.
The sheer neutrality of it unsettled Sam; he assumed it meant a great storm was going to erupt to break the stillness.
Hoping he might still forestall the explosion, Sam said, "So I've seen it. We can go now."
When Dean made no move to leave, Sam didn't either. He waited entirely on Dean.
The first sign of emotion was when Dean's brow furrowed. "In over three years, I've never come back here."
It wasn't what Sam had been expecting Dean to say. Sensing Dean might not be angry so much as contemplative, Sam ventured to ask, "Did you ever want to?"
Dean flinched slightly. "Honestly… yeah, sometimes."
Sam nodded like he understood, even if he didn't, and waited to follow Dean's lead. He was curious as hell, but even Sam knew he'd amped out on what he could ask of Dean. He would have to be happy with whatever Dean would volunteer.
"The nights of the full moon mostly," Dean continued, voice barely loud enough to carry. Sam didn't dare to speak on the chance it would make Dean stop. "I never ran with the pack. The timing, when I turned and when Skye…" Dean winced, "when I left, I just never did. And since it was such a huge deal to them… sometimes I wondered what it would be like."
Without another word, Dean began walking in the opposite direction of the car, and Sam fell in step beside him.
************
The lawn of the courthouse building was next to a park fenced by trees. There seemed to generally be more grass than pavement in Eclipse River. Children were playing on the playground equipment watched over by their parents.
Dean kept clear of them all, consciously moving away from other people like a man with a social phobia, cutting a wide berth as he walked with his hands stuffed into his pockets. Sam stayed right by his side and did not question, peculiar as Dean's behavior might seem to him. He could only imagine what it would be like to walk through the Stanford campus again.
For the most part, the Winchester brothers seemed to go unnoticed. They were too far from the kids to worry the parents. The children, as ever, were oblivious in the joy of being alive.
Dean stopped near the trees without cause. Sam halted by his side and watched Dean close his eyes and take in a deep breath. His lips parted to let it out, slow and heavy.
The wind stirred in the trees, and Sam took note of the thick scent of pine.
Sam looked sideways at Dean. His brother still looked tense but not necessarily furious. Sam took his chances and asked, "Are you mad?"
Dean slowly opened his eyes and looked over at his brother. He studied him with a scowl. "I don't know yet."
Not a fantastic answer, but Sam figured that was fair. He nodded acceptance of that promise of potential wrath later. "You want to leave?" Sam asked, at that point willing to do anything Dean wanted.
"I don't know yet."
So instead, they walked. Dean's stride was slow, his posture lacking the bravado and confidence it usually bore. Sam wondered how much of that was the flu still dragging him down and how much was the power of Eclipse River.
The children were playing, chasing one another and shrieking gleefully. Sam's eyes were drawn to them, just for being so animated in a world otherwise so stately and controlled.
There were five of them, all about the same age. The child in front of the mob, the on being chased, veered from her pursuers and bolted toward the two wandering Winchesters.
Startled, Sam stopped. Dean followed suit out of habit.
The leading girl, no more than six years old, raced toward the brothers, her blonde hair flying and her eyes full of life. Sam blinked, taken off guard, when the sparkling blue of her irises, as she charged forward full-tilt, for the briefest moment flashed gold.
Without pause or doubt, the little girl flung herself at Dean, skinny arms wrapping around his legs, and she turned to her chasers and cried between breathless laughs, "Safe!"
Dean was frozen in his spot, understandably surprised, as he looked down at child holding on to him.
The other kids slammed to a stop at the girl's yell. Then Sam's eyes widened at what they did next. The children came no closer, but they paced an invisible perimeter around the girl and her 'base', eyes locked on the girl they had been chasing. They were like a pack of restless wolves. Children but wolves. They were all smiling, every one of them. It was still a game. But Sam could see something else in their eyes that was decidedly animalistic.
Then the oldest boy turned on his heel. "Last one to the merry-go-round is it!" And then the pack of children were streaking off toward the equipment, all loud whoops and laughs.
Then Sam and Dean were left alone with the little girl wrapped around Dean's leg.
She tilted her face up to look at him, her smile suggesting not the slightest flicker of mistrust. "Hi! I'm Whitney!"
Dean looked lost for words.
Sam knelt down and offered up his best smile. "Hi there… I'm Sam."
He didn't get the reaction he had expected. Whitney looked over at Sam and suddenly her entire demeanor shifted. With a small scowl transforming her face, Whitney shied away from Sam, put Dean between her and Sam, and peered out at Sam past Dean's legs.
Sam, baffled, looked up at Dean.
Dean looked like he was trying to swallow a tennis ball.
Whitney reached up and fisted the bottom of Dean's jacket in her hands. "I'm not 'spose to talk to him," she whispered gravely.
Dean cleared his throat, lifted one hand like he might try patting the girl's head, then thought better of it and made a helpless arms-out gesture. "He won't hurt you."
Whitney turned her bright blue eyes up to Dean. "Promise?"
"Promise."
Whitney mulled that over. Before she could come to any conclusion, a woman trotted up to them. "Whitney! What have I told you about…" the mom came close to Dean and slowed to a stop, a different disposition overtaking her. "Oh," was all she had to say when she was near her daughter and the strange man she'd clung to.
"Cute kid," Dean said for lack of anything else.
As with the child, the mother's eyes cut to Sam and held there warily.
Sam stood back up and tried his smile on the mom. She looked no more impressed than Whitney had been.
Then he was forgotten as the mother turned her eyes back to Dean. She stared openly at him. She started to frown in that universal look of one trying to place a familiar face.
Dean ducked his head and looked away.
The mother narrowed her eyes at Dean, opened her mouth, then snapped it shut before uttering a word and sent another look Sam's direction. Sam smiled again, but this time it was half-hearted. He'd been pegged the 'riff-raff' of the pair, obviously. It was a first impression usually aimed at Dean.
"Come on, Whitney," the mother finally said, giving up on placing Dean's face. She held her hand out for her daughter, once more giving Sam an assessing and none-too-pleasant look.
When they were gone, Sam looked to his brother. "What was that about?" Sam asked, though he had a pretty good idea.
Dean looked uncomfortable and edgy. "You're a sore thumb, Sammy."
"They can tell right away that you're…"
"One of them? Yeah, they can."
"Can you tell that fast… with them?"
Dean lifted one eyebrow and looked slowly over Sam, the look on his face just shy of condescending. That Sam would blame on the flu.
Dean didn't respond to Sam's question and just started walking again. Sam gauged how upset Dean actually was (or wasn't) by the fact that Dean still checked his pace and waited for Sam to catch up.
When he did, Sam casually asked, "How?"
"Hmm?"
"How can you… you know, tell?"
"The lycanthrope secret handshake," Dean answered dryly.
Sam smirked and shook his head. Dean couldn't be too upset if he was cracking jokes. At least now Sam understood why Dean was making such a conscious effort to stay well away from others. For whatever reasons, he didn't want to be acknowledged by the residents. He wanted to be a shadow in the background, and staying clear of other lycanthropes was the only way to really do that.
If that was what Dean wanted, Sam would do whatever he could not to draw attention to them (a demanding enough task for someone six foot four). He kept quiet and (hopefully) supportive, but the entire time he wondered just where Dean was going.
****************
Dean obviously had a destination in mind, and of all things it was the edge of town, just before it gave ground to woodlands. Dean walked right up to the edge, stopped, and just stared out at the forest.
When they were kids, something like that would have made Sam think his brother had been sniffing glue. Now, it was normal for Dean to gravitate toward wilderness. It brought to Dean a peace Sam never saw in his brother anywhere else.
Although right now, he wasn't exactly peaceful. Sam still had no reading on Dean's mood; there was tension in his face that could be many things, just not peace.
Sam hated to say anything, but it was starting to get dark and cold, and Dean was still sick. "Dean… it's getting late."
Dean didn't react.
"If you want…" Sam tried, "we could find a hotel in town. Or in the next town over. Or we could just leave all together. I'm good to drive. What do you want to do?"
Dean looked over at Sam, that unreadable expression still in place. "I don't know."
Sam hadn't expected a town to leave Dean so shaken. He still looked pale and drawn from the flu, his skin ashen and his hair spiky with dried sweat. His fever came and went. At that moment, Sam suspected it might be back, but he wasn't brave enough to reach over a hand and check. That was best done when Dean slept (while being mindful of Dean's knife hand).
Sam wanted to follow Dean's lead, whatever that might be, but he realized Dean wasn't really in the kind of shape for making big decisions.
"Okay," he said, "let's go back to the car and find a hotel in the nearest town from here. We'll get some sleep, and in the morning you can decide what you want to do. Will that work?"
Dean opened his mouth to speak, but before he got a word out, a voice behind him called, "Dean?!"
Dean went stock still. His face paled.
Sam looked beyond Dean's shoulder. A woman was hurriedly approaching them. She was older with light brown hair touched by gray. She looked familiar to Sam, but he couldn't put his finger on how; he was certain he'd never met her before.
Dean slowly turned and the woman stopped in front of him. They faced each other for a few dragging seconds, neither one seeming to so much as breathe. The woman gazed up into Dean's face, clearly astounded, then she threw her arms around him.
To Sam's complete shock, Dean immediately hugged her back, his body melting into the contact.
The woman held on to Dean tightly. "It is you, Dean, I can hardly believe it. What are you doing here? When did you get back?" Before Dean could answer any of her questions, she buried her nose in his shoulder, inhaled deeply, and frowned. She drew away to look at him critically. "You smell sick. Are you okay?"
Dean barked out a harsh chuckle. "I'm feeling better."
The woman, unhappy with his answer, reached up to check his forehead for fever. Sam was amazed that Dean let her. She narrowed her eyes. "You feel warm."
"I'm alright, I just caught something."
"Are you hungry? But look who I'm asking, when aren't you hungry? I'm taking you to the diner; Tanya makes amazing chicken noodle soup."
"Yeah, I'll bet she does," Dean said in a soft, hoarse voice.
The woman wrapped her hands around Dean's arm, which he seemed content to allow, then she finally noticed Sam standing behind Dean. She eyed him warily.
That made Dean react. "It's okay… this is my brother, Sam." Dean turned to look back at Sam. "Sam, this is Jaina Lauchlan… Skye's mother."
Sam's eyes widened. He understood now why she looked familiar. Dean's picture of Skye. The two women had the same features, if not the same coloring. Sam stepped forward, "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."
Jaina looked up at Dean. "Your brother?" she asked meaningfully.
Dean smirked affectionately. "Yes, he knows."
Jaina looked uncertain by Dean's answer, but she freed one of her hands from Dean to shake Sam's. "Sam… nice to meet you."
Jaina turned her attention back to Dean, no longer asking a million questions. Her expression was only gentle. "It's good to see you again."
Dean's voice was low, almost emotional, as he whispered, "It's good to see you, too."
Sam stood back acting like he wasn't overhearing the whole thing. He wasn't sure how long the uncomfortable moment might have lasted if Dean hadn't shivered in the rapidly cooling night air. Jaina latched on to him again and started to lead him off. "Come on, Dean… Tanya has just the thing for that crud of yours."
Dean began to leave with Jaina but pulled up slightly, just enough to glance back for Sam. Jaina's mouth set in a thin line, but she didn't speak.
"Sammy?" Dean rasped.
Sam strode forward to walk on the opposite side of Dean from Jaina.
With his brother at his side, Dean went where Jaina led him willingly.
************
Sam felt distinctly like an afterthought as he followed Dean and Jaina back into town. When they reached the main street through Eclipse River, Dean noticeably stiffened. Soon, Sam understood why. People on the street either looked curious or surprised. A few looked outright shocked. No one was apathetic. Sam seemed to go unnoticed next to his lycan brother in a lycan town.
Tanya's Diner was obviously a popular eatery, and just as Jaina made to pull Dean inside, Dean balked. "Jaina..." he began, but seemed lost for words beyond a simple protest. To Sam, he sounded worried.
"It's all right, Dean."
Dean looked dubious.
Jaina frowned thoughtfully at him. Then she smiled as kindly as she could when understanding bloomed. "Oh, Dean... it won't be like that. When we-" she stopped mid-sentence and cut another wary look at Sam, the warmth of her manner chilling a little. Sam offered a smile, but it was fleeting, for he had learned quickly how far his charm and personality did not get him with the lycans.
At Jaina's mistrustful glance, Dean took a step back, gently pulling free of Jaina's hold and ending up standing next to his younger brother. Dean's voice was stronger when he prompted, "When I left the pack?" He looked pointedly at Jaina and waited.
Jaina held her breath a second then forced a smile. "When we offered to accept you into the pack, it was after a majority of the town agreed to it. You're not one of them anymore. You're one of us."
Dean still didn't budge.
Sam slid a few inches closer to his brother and touched his arm in passing. "Come on, man, it's freezing out here, and I don't know about you, but I'm hungry."
Dean glanced at Sam, studied him a moment, then nodded, as a matter of principle shook off Sam's too caring hand, and moved forward. Jaina opened the door and Sam held it there while they filed into the diner.
"Tanya! Look who's back," Jaina called the moment she was inside the diner.
Dean stopped so abruptly that Sam slammed into him from behind.
An elderly woman with her hair pinned in a white bun was standing by the counter with an order pad in hand. She turned at Jaina's voice with a smile on her face. A smile that vanished when she set eyes on Dean. Her mouth hung open and her eyes widened.
The diner went deathly quiet as the other patrons turned to look. To their credit, the stunned silence only lasted a second - the lycans were good at appearing normal to the outside world - but Sam felt their intense focus even when they moved their eyes back to their own plates and companions.
Tanya came around the counter and strode toward the three new arrivals. Her eyes were locked on Dean the whole time. She stopped before him and reached out a hand to grip his upper arm, as though testing to see if he was real.
"Dean?! Boy, when did you get here?" she asked.
"Ah... not long ago."
Tanya half-smiled then she turned a steely gaze on Sam.
"Tanya, this is my brother, Sam," Dean introduced.
Sam wondered if there was any point in being polite, but old habits kicked in anyway. "Nice to meet you."
Tanya looked Sam up and down with an assessing eye, then looked over at Jaina.
It was Dean who answered (sounding quite annoyed in the process), "Sam knows."
Tanya looked sharply at Dean then. "You told him?"
Dean's posture radiated tension. "He's my brother."
Tanya seemed less than pleased with that, but she didn't pursue the matter. She nodded grimly, as if accepting bad news with grace, and dropped her hand from Dean's arm.
"Dean's not feeling well," Jaina jumped in helpfully. "I told him you had just the thing for that."
Tanya eyed Dean shrewdly. "Bet your ass I do. Go have a seat, I'll bring you some of my soup." She looked toward Sam almost reluctantly. "What would you like?"
"Get the meatloaf," Dean advised, "it's awesome."
"Uh, sure, meatloaf," Sam said.
Tanya nodded, turned to see to their food, then stopped and looked back at Dean. "You seen Lucas yet?"
Dean flinched. "No."
"You should... whenever you come to town, first thing you should do is meet with him."
"Who's Lucas?" Sam asked.
Heedless of Sam's question, Jaina said, "I'm sure Lucas is going to know soon, if he doesn't already. Quite a few townspeople recognized Dean on the street."
Tanya made a thoughtful humming sound. "Still, you should go to him. It's only right." Then she left.
"Come on, Dean," Jaina led them toward a vacant table.
"Who's Lucas?" Sam asked again when they were seated, Dean and Sam sharing a bench seat and Jaina sitting across from them.
Dean looked to Jaina expectantly, clearly making her answer Sam's question.
She looked remiss to do it, but then she replied, "Our alpha. He's the leader of our community."
Dean sank down in his seat, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, and scrunched his body down like a petulant preteen. Dean did brusque and blustering more than he did pouting and withdrawn; the latter were usually only part of Dean's hurt or sick repertoire.
To Jaina's words, he provided only a scowl.
Undeterred, Jaina asked, "How long will you be staying?"
Sam looked briefly down at his brother. Dean only offered a stilted shrug. "I'm not sure." Dean sniffled and looked across the table at Jaina. "How's Ramon?"
"He's fine." Jaina faltered. "I mean, you know, as fine as either of us can ever be." She gave a weak smile.
Dean locked up next to Sam. Discomfort and heartache landed hard and heavy on the table.
"I got your letter," Dean finally mumbled, the defensiveness gone from his voice, replaced by that note of heartache Dean's voice took on when he spoke of lost loved ones.
Jaina swallowed. "I wasn't sure you ever got it. When I never heard from you… I worried."
Dean fidgeted uneasily. "Sorry, I didn't mean to… I got it. I just… didn't know what to say." Dean pressed his lips together a second. "But I got the picture… thank you."
Sam thought of the picture Dean was talking about, the one of Dean and Skye together that the elder Winchester brother carried in his wallet. It was the only reason Sam knew what Skye had looked like.
"You're welcome." Jaina looked away a moment, her expression awash with grief just barely contained, then she said, "Tanya's right, you know. You need to see Lucas."
Dean narrowed his eyes like a kid staring at his peas.
"Dean…" Jaina chided softly.
Sam looked between the two. "What's the deal with this Lucas guy?" Sam looked toward his brother. "Did you deck him?"
Dean smiled then, a sly curve of the mouth that would have been a full-out cocky grin if Dean wasn't feeling so under the weather. "Nah… but sure wanted to."
"He did what he had to," Jaina interjected firmly. When Dean just grunted and looked out the window with a stifled cough, Jaina looked toward Sam and seemed to take pity on the poor, confused human. "Dean didn't much care for Lucas."
"Understatement," Dean grumbled.
"He never did anything for you to dislike him."
Dean looked quickly and keenly at Jaina. "He's the reason Skye… he… never mind." Dean frowned angrily and looked out the window again. He looked aloof and dismissive, but Sam could practically feel Dean's body shaking with disguised tension.
Jaina's brow furrowed. "You don't blame Lucas for Skye's death."
Dean brought up a hand and scrubbed his face roughly, then scruffed his hand through his hair, leaving it standing up in haphazard spikes. "No, but… I ran with Skye that night because she was banned from the pack run."
Jaina let slip a knowing smile. "You would have run with Skye anyway, regardless of her sentence."
Dean's breathing faltered, stuttered in and shuddered out. For a second, Sam actually worried Dean would lose control and maybe almost cry at the table. He tensed, wondering how he could get Dean out of the diner before his cracks showed.
Before anything could happen, Tanya returned to the table with a bowl and a plate that she set before the Winchester boys. "Here you are," she said, her look noticeably kinder toward Dean than Sam. Sam didn't bother trying to win her over with his innocent charm - the locals seemed well and fully immune.
Dean quickly curled over his soup bowl and took up his spoon. Sam suspected it was more to turn his face down and hide in his dinner than any real hunger. Dean hadn't had much of an appetite since he came down sick.
The meatloaf, however, was fantastic just as Dean claimed.
Dean ate a few spoonfuls of soup before he glanced up at Jaina again and grumbled, "Town sure seems friendlier than the last time I was here."
Sam and his brother obviously had very different definitions of 'friendly'. He cast a 'seriously?!' look at his brother, who ignored it.
"We weren't so much hostile toward you as afraid of you," Jaina explained.
Dean eyed her dubiously.
"Your kind is the reason we're so few," Jaina continued. "But you were turned more than three years ago, and in that time, you haven't brought the hunters down on us. You kept your word. That went a long way toward proving your loyalty. No lycan died because of you."
Dean paled slightly and put down his spoon. "Yeah, well, I get the feeling not everyone agrees with you on that."
Obviously, Jaina knew exactly what Dean was talking about, even if Sam was baffled. Her expression turned grim. "Jeremy and Skye were close," Jaina said slowly. "They grew up together. The three of them: Skye, Jeremy, and Trey, they were inseparable. It's hard for Jeremy to be the only one left. He just… needed someone to blame."
With a sardonic grunt, Dean leaned back in his seat again. Only Sam noticed that Dean slid fractionally closer to his younger brother in the process. Feeling all the more protective, Sam casually reached across Dean to grab the bottle of ketchup, coming back to his place but marginally closer to Dean, close enough that Sam could feel Dean's body heat where their thighs almost touched.
Dean glanced very briefly at Sam, but the light in his eyes seemed appreciative.
The intervention of Sam caught Jaina's attention and she looked toward the younger Winchester. She seemed to balk a moment, then asked, "How much has Dean told you?"
Sam felt startled into a spotlight, then cleared his throat to speak.
"Dean Winchester," a deep voice resonated from the entrance of the diner.
All talk in the diner came to an abrupt halt. Jaina looked past Sam and sat up straight. Dean went rigid.
Sam felt an uneasy sensation crawl up his spine and raise the hairs on the back of his neck. Slowly, he turned and looked toward the entrance.
There was a man standing in the doorway, and he was looking directly at Dean. He was a dignified figure and about him was a sense of power. Authority. He immediately reminded Sam of John Winchester. Like a reflex, Sam's stomach tightened and his jaw clenched.
The man strode slowly into the diner on a direct path toward the Winchesters.
Sam was so focused on the man, it took him a moment to notice the reaction of all the diners around them. As the man passed, each one of them canted their head to the side.
Before Sam could puzzle that out, he felt Dean insistently nudging him in the shoulder. He wanted out of the seat.
Sam slid out of the booth and Dean followed. Then, quite deliberately, Dean stepped around Sam and stood between him and the new arrival. That made Sam even edgier; it was an overtly protective gesture. This man, for whatever reason, set off Dean's defenses.
The man came to a stop right in front of Dean. The two men stood face to face and looked long and hard at each other. Sam glanced toward Jaina and saw that she was copying the behavior of the others in the diner with her head turned and neck exposed.
Sam looked back Dean and the man.
There was a tense atmosphere around the two men as they stared at one another.
"Lucas," Dean said in a low voice.
The older man just continued to stare.
Sam wasn't sure what was going on, but there was a building discontent that he was sure everyone in the diner felt. Sam looked at the others and they were clearly agitated. Their expressions were tight and some looked almost afraid.
Then, very slowly, Dean turned his head. At great length and noticeable hesitation, he too offered his throat to Lucas.
It was as if the diner let out a collective breath.
The stone of Lucas's face cracked. He almost even smiled. "Dean… it's been years."
"More than three," Dean confirmed. "Last time I saw you was…"
"At the invitation," Lucas finished. Then he looked pointedly at Dean. "Are you back to accept?"
Dean seemed startled by the question. Sam stepped closer to stand behind his brother.
Lucas finally turned his attention to Sam. Any hint of openness or friendliness in his face vanished.
"I'm Sam Winchester," Sam introduced himself, allowing Dean time to collect himself. "I'm Dean's brother." Remembering the gesture all the others had presented to Lucas, Sam followed their example and presented the side of his throat, too.
Unexpectedly, Lucas chuckled. Sam looked back at him, and the man looked no gentler for his amusement. "I don't expect that of your kind." Then Lucas looked at Dean and asked pointedly, "He knows?"
"He's no threat," Dean answered.
Lucas lifted one eyebrow. "Is he a hunter?"
Dean stiffened.
Sam stepped forward and to the side to stand alongside his brother. "Sir… I understand your… caution, but Dean's right. I assure you that I'm no threat to you."
"We'll see," Lucas rumbled.
"Lucas…" Jaina got up and came next to the Winchester boys. "Dean's not feeling well… couldn't this wait until later?"
Lucas looked between the two Winchesters, his gaze considerably longer on Sam, then he said, "Of course." He looked toward Dean, notably excluding Sam. "You're welcome here, Dean." Then, with a dominating sweep of his eyes over the diner patrons, he left.
Dean visibly relaxed. He turned to Jaina and shook his head, "I heard all of that before, 'we'll see', only he was talking about me."
"Try to see his side of it," Jaina said, "you came back and brought another hunter with you."
"It's just Sam."
"Gee, thanks, Dean," Sam grumbled.
Dean cast him a long-suffering look and said to Jaina, "I mean Sam's not the type to hurt anyone. He's a hunter, yes, but he doesn't see us as dangerous."
"Well, forgive those of us who don't see the difference," Jaina responded, softening her words with a touch to Dean's arm. "Some in town are going to see Sam being here as the worst fears about your change coming true."
"You mean people like Jeremy," Dean said pointedly.
Jaina sighed. "I don't want to argue, Dean. We can talk about it tomorrow if you really insist on questioning centuries of our survival wisdom."
"Sounds awesome," Dean groaned, then sniffled as he turned to Sam. "Well, let's find a motel. Looks like we're sticking around, at least for now."
"Don't do that," Jaina interjected. "You already have a place to stay."
Dean eyed Jaina warily, "We do?"
Jaina smiled thinly and took his arm again. "Come on."
**************
From his place standing in front of the Impala's grill, Sam looked from the house to Dean. When he saw the look on Dean's face, his attention stayed on his brother. Dean looked like he was going to throw up.
"I don't understand," Dean croaked as he stared up at the small house in front of them.
Jaina held something small out to Dean and pressed it into his palm. When she drew her hand away, Sam saw a key lying in Dean's hand.
"It's yours," Jaina said gently.
Dean glanced down at the key in his hand, dumbstruck, then at Jaina. "I don't get it."
That earned Dean a smile, like he was a little boy and Jaina every inch a mother. "What's there to get? It belongs to you," Jaina answered.
"But… how? We were never… and I never signed anything or…"
Jaina laughed. "Of course you didn't. Men have their laws, and we have ours. You were Skye's mate. What was hers is yours." Jaina looked sadly at the house, a small smile on her lips. "It's almost exactly how she left it."
Sam watched Dean closely, worried how he might be handling this latest unexpected news.
"I… I thought you said you'd cleaned it out. In your letter, you said you went through her things."
Jaina pressed her lips together tightly for a second. "At first I just cleaned out the perishables. Then, later, I put the sheets away, covered the furniture, developed the film in her camera when I saw it on the bookshelf… things like that. Sometimes someone in the pack would need odds and ends, a lamp or toaster that I knew Skye would have been happy to loan them… but her personal possessions are still here, and most of her belongings…" Jaina paused then said, "it wasn't ours to give away. It was yours."
Dean turned to Jaina. "Before I left, or in your letter… why didn't you tell me?"
"Lucas forbade it. He said the thirst for material possessions shouldn't be the reason you came back. He said if you were truly pack, your heart would lead you home."
Dean swallowed thickly and closed his fingers over the key.
Jaina moved closer to Dean. "Would you like me to go in with you?"
"No," Dean said thickly, his jaw tight and shoulders tense. He looked like a rubber band stretched too taut and ready to break. Even on the hunt, Sam rarely saw his older brother that tightly wound.
"All right…" Jaina said, backing off slightly, "you'll come see me tomorrow?"
Dean only nodded.
Jaina seemed to accept that and moved away from Dean. Her eyes fell on Sam, briefly, and she looked torn on how to react. In the end, she gave a polite smile and left.
Leaving the two brothers alone in front of the house.
Sam felt like he was standing next to a rabid dog ready to snap. He looked carefully over at Dean and spoke hesitantly, "Umm… hey… we don't have to go in, you know."
Dean's face set in determination and without answering he moved toward the house. Sam, not all sure this was such a good idea, followed a few steps behind.
Dean opened the door with the key given to him by Jaina. He stepped inside almost as if he expected an attack. Fleetingly, Sam wished he had a gun on him… when Dean was rigid like that, Sam was trained from childhood to be backup.
But there was no attack from the empty house. Only thick silence, the heaviness of air in the wake of the dead.
It had the feel of a place long abandoned. The furniture was covered and there was a dusty smell in the air. Dean stopped in the living room and seemed to get lost in the ghosts only he could see, the kind Winchesters couldn't shoot full of rock salt.
Intent on giving his brother some space, Sam left Dean's side and explored the house on his own a bit. It wasn't big, but Sam could imagine how it would be cozy if the place had some life back in it. Two bedrooms, a small spare room, the living room, kitchen, and a master bathroom.
It was all so normal, and Sam tried to imagine Dean here calling it home. He couldn't see it.
In the hallway, he stopped at a row of hung photographs. One was of Jaina with a man her own age, only with a darker complexion. Skye's parents. Another picture had three children about the same age, eight or nine years, two boys and a girl in the middle. They reminded Sam of the pack children he'd seen earlier. Even their grins seemed somehow wolfish… feral. The third picture made Sam stop dead in his tracks. That photograph Skye's mother must have added after Skye died. It was Dean and Skye. The camera was obviously put on the ground… in the foreground were blurry outlines of blades of grass. Beyond them Dean lay on his back on the grass, smiling up at Skye who was on top of him, braced on her hands and knees and smiling back down at him, her hair falling down over one shoulder. Dean's hands were almost absently on her hips… absent in the way only hands that belonged there could be. Sam recognized their clothes… this picture was taken on the same day as the photo Dean carried in his wallet. They looked so happy together. Sam suddenly thought of Jessica, her smile as she held out a plate of freshly-baked cookies like bait, and he had to look away from the picture.
He wandered back toward the living room and found Dean standing stock still at the entrance to the master bedroom. He looked ghostly pale, his jaw muscles jumping and his hands fisted at his side.
Sam came up alongside Dean and saw that Dean was staring at the bed.
The realization made Sam ache for his brother. No question why seeing that bed was making Dean look ready to either pass out or throw up.
"You okay?" Sam asked gently.
Dean swallowed thickly. "Not really, Sammy."
Sam frowned, lifted a hand to touch Dean's shoulder, then thought better of it and dropped his hand helplessly to his side.
"We could still leave," Sam offered softly.
Dean took a deep, bracing breath. He held it, froze, then exhaled.
"If you're not comfortable…" Sam said, his tone leaving the statement open for Dean to finish.
Dean looked torn for a second, like he wanted to go just as much as he wanted to stay, and either one would be painful, then he wearily brought up a hand and pinched his temples. "No... let's just... we're here. The sheets are in the spare bedroom closet."
Sam nodded agreement; he wouldn't make Dean say more.
Together, the brothers put clean sheets on the bed in the master bedroom, then they fixed up the bed in the spare bedroom for Sam. By the time they finished, it was late and Dean looked wiped out. Testament to the fact he was still feeling under the weather, he actually admitted it, too. "All right, I'm throwing in the towel," Dean grunted and turned toward the master bedroom only to pause uncertainly, as if the bedroom held a dangerous animal he dreaded to face. Sam knew from experience memories could be almost as cowing as a Black Dog.
Sam started to reach for Dean's shoulder, determined to be a comfort somehow, when Dean said, "Sam?"
Sam drew up his hand shy of touching Dean. "Yeah?"
Dean turned to look at his younger brother, his expression unreadable once more. "You should have asked me before bringing us here."
Sam looked down contritely. "I know, Dean. I'm sorry... I had no right to make you face all this again."
Dean's look hardened. "No, you didn't. But that's not even what I mean. This place might not be safe for you." With that, Dean went into the master bedroom and almost shut the door, leaving it open a crack so he could listen to the rest of the house. Something told Sam it was more than just Dean's over-protective big brother streak that made him do it.
Sam stared for a second at the bedroom door behind which Dean had disappeared. He wasn't tired yet, too wound up after seeing Eclipse River and meeting some of its residents. As quietly as he could, Sam went through the living room and kitchen, uncovering furniture and absently dusting off counters with a swipe of his hand. Maybe it would seem less ghostly to Dean in the morning if it didn't look so much like the home of the deceased.
He noticed a few things, being trained for observation as he was. The most obvious were that the electricity and water were still on (Sam didn't know who had been paying them all these years). There was even a wash towel setting out next to the sink. There were still canned goods in the kitchen cabinets and an answering machine hooked up to the telephone. The house wasn't closed up and forgotten. It had all the indications of a place waiting for its owner to come home any day.
It had been left in wait for Dean.
Satisfied the house was as good as he could get it for the time being, Sam went to turn in for the night.
On his way back down the hall, Sam stopped again and stared at the hung photograph of Dean and Skye. They were a very attractive couple. Sam didn't have to be into guys to know it was just pure fact that Dean was good-looking. All the women who gave him the hungry eyes were proof of that. Sam did know from personal judgment that Skye was beautiful. He could easily see Dean falling for her.
Sam stared at her in the picture and wished he had met her. If she hadn't died, how would their lives be different now? Would Dean have married Skye, moved in with her? Hell, would they have children?
It was a Dean Winchester Sam could not really imagine, but looking at the picture of Dean and Skye, it didn't seem so impossible. Maybe Sam didn't know his brother down to the core like he thought he did.
It made him think of Jessica, and the life so far from his upbringing he had been so bound and determined to build with her. Maybe, deep down, the things he and Dean wanted were more alike than Dean would ever admit.
With a sad smile to himself, Sam went to the guest bedroom and went to sleep.
******************
Not unexpectedly, Sam was up before Dean the next morning. Sam intended to let Dean sleep as long as his brother would stay down. He slipped into the master bedroom and checked on Dean, who was lying curled on his side sleeping. Dean only slept curled up when he wasn't well, otherwise it was on his stomach or his back. Dean only snored if he was congested, too… not a sawing sound so much as a rhythmic wheezing. Sam wondered if all siblings knew so much about each other, or if it was a byproduct of the uniquely Winchester upbringing they'd had, living so wholly in the same space.
Sam fished Dean's jeans off the floor and dug into the pockets until he found the keys to the car. After a second, he took out Dean's cell phone, too, so if it rang it wouldn't wake Dean up.
Sam went out to the car and brought in their bags, setting them both on the couch in the living room. He and Dean had both crashed in what they wore into the house last night, but morning meant necessities like a change of clothes and a toothbrush.
Sam set about taking care of his sick brother first. He knew Dean would just pull on the same jeans from yesterday, but Sam rooted around in the bottom of Dean's bag and found his hoodie, the one Sam only ever saw Dean wear when he was sick. It was like a child's teddy bear or a baby's blanket - Dean found comfort in it. Dean would never confess as much, but the hoodie had stuck with Dean for years, always at the bottom of the bag in wait. It was faded and worn, and Sam held it in his hands a second before sneaking back into the bedroom and laying it on the end of the bed near Dean's feet.
Sam brushed his teeth, put on a change of clothes, and was contemplating going out and finding something to bring back for breakfast when a knock at the door startled him. From the bedroom, Dean grumbled sleepily then settled.
Sam went quickly to the door to answer it before the person knocked again.
He opened the door to find a young woman standing there with a toaster in her hands. She was about Sam's age with straight, dark blonde hair and green eyes that widened when she saw Sam.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, "You're the brother." It sounded distinctly awkward, like Sam made her uncomfortable on sight.
It seemed Sam wouldn't have much of his own identity in Eclipse River beyond 'the brother' and 'the non-lycan hunter' while he was in town. He snorted and stepped out on to the porch, closing the door behind him to keep the noise from reaching Dean. "My name's actually Sam."
The woman took a step back and stared at him uneasily a moment. Her gaze was unwavering and almost uncomfortable for its intensity. Then she introduced herself. "Selene."
Then there was a strained silence as they looked at one another.
"I brought back Dean's toaster," Selene finally said, holding up the appliance in her hands.
Sam looked down at it, baffled. "Um… okay?"
A crinkle formed between Selene's brows and she seemed to weigh the decision to explain to him or not. "Jaina let me borrow it a while back, and when I heard Dean was home…"
Sam smiled thinly at the way she so confidently called Eclipse River's Dean 'home' and took the toaster from her. "I'll take it in. Dean's asleep right now." When Selene didn't budge from her place, Sam resisted a sigh and asked, "Was there something else?"
Selene opened her mouth, closed it uncertainly, then stopped to study him again. She narrowed her eyes, the corners of her mouth tugged downward, then she asked in a surprisingly gentle voice, "How's he been?" She seemed genuinely concerned about Dean's well-being.
"Fine, I guess," Sam hedged, not really comfortable talking about his brother with this stranger.
"Good." Selene nodded to herself. "Good." She glanced up and the look on Sam's face must have plied her. She clarified, "The way he was when he left… none of us was sure he'd be okay. Then there was no word from him, and... I'm glad he's okay."
Despite himself, Sam was curious. He'd been away at Stanford when Dean found - and lost - the love of his life. By the time Dean came and got Sam at college, the wound was scabbed over and Dean was more or less the same big brother Sam remembered (besides the whole lycanthropy thing).
"He was pretty tore up, huh? When Skye died?" Sam opened in his best conversational tone, the one that worked to get people talking when he and Dean were looking for information on a hunt from civilians. Sam was the people person of the Winchester hunting team for a reason.
"Yeah…" Selene frowned to herself, crossing her arms over her chest. She spared a glance at Sam and seemed swayed by the look of worry on the younger Winchester's face. "You know, a lot of us in town, we didn't really believe he loved her until we saw how he acted when he lost her."
Sam could only imagine. He remembered what it was like to lose Jess, but trying to imagine Dean like that was hard. Dean didn't let people outside the family get that close. He insulated himself against that kind of pain.
But the idea of Dean letting go and falling in love like that honestly kind of scared Sam. He knew (as the little brother Dean had always protected like nothing else in the world mattered) that Dean's devotion and love could be diamond-hard and to the core. He had the capacity to be helplessly committed, locked on like a ballistic missile (which Sam always suspected was the reason Dean kept his relationship with women so casual - he knew he was prone to fall hard if he let down his guard).
Dean fell hard for Skye, and he lost her.
In the middle of his ruminations, Sam felt himself being watched. He looked up and saw Selene was giving him the critical eye again, part wary assessment and part of her dying to ask him something.
"What?"
Selene pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "You're a Barely… doesn't it bother you? What your brother is?"
"No. Should it?" Sam returned airily.
Selene looked taken aback by Sam's nonchalance. She pursed her lips in thought. "You're a hunter, aren't you?"
"I'm Dean's brother first." Sam scowled at Selene. "Are you actually suggesting I would hunt my own brother?"
"Isn't that what your kind does when they don't understand something? Kill it?"
Sam wanted to argue in his own defense, but the truth was he imagined any other hunter would shoot first, ask questions later. Even their own father, when he found out what Dean was, could think only of killing the wolf.
"Being a lycanthrope makes Dean happy," Sam answered finally, "he loves being the wolf. That's all I need to know."
Selene didn't have a response to that, but there was a lot said in her face. She looked surprised, then contemplative, and Sam could almost swear some of her animosity dissipated as she stood facing him and turning over his words.
Finally, she broke from standing rooted on the spot. "Tell Dean it's good to have him home… Sam." His name seemed to come out with effort, but she at least made the effort. Sam would take from that what encouragement he could. He really wanted to prove to these people, to the lycanthrope pack that Dean had almost joined, that he was not a threat.
"I will… thanks for the… toaster," Sam finished lamely.
Selene's green eyes glinted with something (maybe humor), then she turned and left.
Sam watched her leave, wondering if everyone in Eclipse River was going to be so hard to convince, when Dean's cell phone, stuffed in his pants pocket, began to sound out a classic rock tune.
Sam put the toaster down on the porch rail and retrieved the phone.
"Hello."
There was a breath, a pause. "Sam?"
Sam reflexively locked up. "Dad?"
"Where's your brother?"
Sam felt his jaw tense. "He's here. He hasn't been feeling well, so I'm letting him sleep in. What is it, Dad?" Their father never called just to say hi.
"I needed him to look up something in my journal. Something I wrote down years ago about a possible hunt… didn't know if it would ever come in handy. Now I need it."
"What are you hunting?"
"Don't worry about that," John said gruffly.
Sam fumed silently and briefly entertained the notion of hanging up. Sam didn't get along with John on a good day, but the last time the brothers had seen their father, John had tried to tear the wolf out of Dean. And damn near succeeded. He'd backed off under the pressure of both brothers to protect Dean's new identity, but John had not accepted it by any means when they parted ways.
"I can look it up for you," Sam bit out between clenched teeth.
"Fine." John paused a beat. "How's Dean?"
"I told you, he's sick."
"I mean is he still… you know."
Sam frowned. "That's not exactly something that's going to go away."
"He hasn't changed his mind about ridding himself of it?"
Sam really did almost hang up then. "No, Dad. Can't you accept that this is who he is now? That this is what he wants?"
"I might if it made a damn bit of sense," John growled. "But Dean should know better."
The emphasis made Sam's skin crawl. "Oh, so if this was me you wouldn't be shocked at all, right? Just another predictable screw-up by the black sheep of the family."
"I just called for a note out of my journal," John retorted. "You're the one turning it into an argument, Sam."
Sam growled under his breath as he marched toward the Impala, "Hold on." He went to the trunk and began digging around for John's journal.
"You boys on a hunt?" John asked to fill the silence.
"Just finished a job," Sam answered evenly. "We're… visiting some old friends for a few days."
"Where are you?"
"Eclipse River, Oregon," Sam answered off-handedly as he found the journal and closed the trunk to use it as a makeshift desk.
There was a dead-silent pause on the phone line. "… Oregon… Eclipse River?"
"Yeah. I've got the journal, Dad, now what did you want out of it?"
John explained to Sam what he was looking for, and a lifetime of learning his father's scrawl and sense of organization made it fairly easy for Sam to find the obscure tidbit scribbled in the margin of a full page that John was after.
"That's all I needed," John said to wind up the call, "take care of your brother, Sam."
"You know I will." Without further parting words, Sam closed the phone and replaced the journal in the trunk.
A second later, Dean came shuffled out the front door barefoot in jeans and his hoodie. His hair was in disarray, his eyes sleepy, and he yawned before spotting his brother.
"Yo, Sammy… you get breakfast?"
Sam smirked as he approached the house. "Did I or will I?"
Dean offered up an exaggerated cough. "You'd make a sick person go out?"
Sam smiled. Dean only played the sick invalid card when he was feeling markedly better. He looked better, too. Not so pale or sweaty, and on closer inspection his eyes were free of that glassy look from yesterday.
"The air would do you good," Sam said as he mounted the stairs. "Go shower, then let's go eat."
Dean grumbled as he turned, "Ungrateful… all the times I doted on your sick ass when you were little… you'd think a little gratitude…" he looked to the side, stopped, and frowned. "Is that a toaster?"
************
Whatever his social failings, certain things could be said about John Winchester. He was meticulous and methodical on a hunt. He never gave up. He would seek out and take revenge on anything that hurt his family.
His hunt for the demon that killed his Mary, now ongoing for more than two decades, was still his all-consuming mission. He would find that son of a bitch and make it pay for what it did to Mary. That demon was John's first target, his primary goal, the first and foremost evil to suffer for crossing the Winchesters.
But now there was a second foe in John Winchester's sights. Someone had turned his oldest boy into a creature. A lycanthrope. A Winchester was harmed by the supernatural, and John Winchester would hunt it down and kill it. That was what John Winchester did. And now John had a likely town where the culprit to Dean's change could be found.
It didn't matter to him which order he killed them in, as long as they both paid in blood. That was the price for messing with the Winchesters.
Next