Second Nature 3/?
Chapter 3
Dean spun around, half-expecting to find his wolfed-out brother standing right behind him ready to rip Dean's heart out. But there was nobody, no Sam, wolfed-out or otherwise. Which made sense Sam had been sleeping a minute ago and for sure he hadn't sneaked by Dean.
There was the noise again, a rattling at the door, and this time Dean saw the doorknob moving.
Dean backed off slowly to the bedroom where he'd left his gun. One quick glance assured him that Sam was still peacefully asleep in the bed but he'd doubted anyway that Sam would even fit through the small window of the bedroom to get outside in the first place.
"Sam." Dean hissed but Sam didn't stir. "Sam." Louder now and Sam snapped awake. He had a confused look around before his eyes settled on the gun in Dean's hand.
"Dean?" All of a sudden there were tears in Sam's eyes. His gaze lingered on the gun before he teared it away and forced himself to look up to meet his brother's eye. "I'm sorry."
It took Dean a second to realize that the good news hadn't reached Sam yet.
"You're not a werewolf." Dean was already half-way back to the main room where whoever was outside had given up on the doorknob and was now softly knocking at the door. "There's somebody outside."
"I'm not?" Sam huffed out a laugh of relief but then the second part of Dean's statement caught up with him. "Who?"
That was a good question. It was past midnight and they were in the middle of nowhere. The only persons who knew where they were, were the guy who'd rented them the cabin and Bobby, neither of them had business up here at this time of the night.
Adjusting his grip on the gun Dean made his way back to the door with Sam now a solid presence right behind his right shoulder, barefoot, in his sleepwear and without a weapon whatsoever, so Dean made sure to stay between his brother and the door. Not for the first time he wished they'd brought more weapons in.
"Who's there?" Sam's shout made Dean jump but he kept the gun trained at the door. The knocking stopped and there was a croaky sound that sounded more like an animal than anything else. Not a very frightening animal, though.
Years of practice got them in position without a second thought, Sam behind the door, ready to yank it open, and Dean with his gun ready to shoot at whatever evil may wait outside.
What Dean didn't expect to see when the door flew open was a woman hanging on to the door frame for dear life. A naked woman, to be exact. That is, if he didn't count the mud coating her legs up to the knees with splashes all over smooth dark skin up to her head. There was even mud in her hair and probably on her face, too, but with her head hanging like it was too heavy to lift up, it was hard to tell.
"Did she walk up here?" Was Sam's input on the bizarre scenario.
Dean didn't answer but didn't let his aim falter either. Women didn't just appear in the middle of the night somewhere at an isolated hunting cabin. And they would put on some clothes before going on a hiking trip in this weather. At least outside of porn.
The woman slowly lifted her head and her eyes found Dean's.
"What are you?" Dean snarled, forgetting for a moment the naked with really nice curves part, only focused on the fact that silver wasn't a natural eye-color.
Her face lit up with a warm smile and she totally dismissed his tone and the gun pointing at her.
"D..." She grimaced, trying to get a word out but it was more of an inarticulate sound than anything else. With some imagination she could have tried to say Dean, though.
Completely ignoring the gun she let go of the door frame and made a wobbly step towards Dean.
Dean's reflexes were the only thing saving her from face-planting right in front of him. Hands full with his gun and the naked woman he threw a glance at his brother but Sam looked as lost as Dean felt.
The woman sneaked her arms around Dean's waist, leaning heavily on him, and rested her head on his chest with a happy sigh.
"What the hell?" Dean had to hug her back to prevent her from just sliding down to the floor like a rag doll. Which was more than awkward because, hello, naked woman, but she didn't seem to have full control over her legs.
Sam closed the door and a second later he draped a blanket over the woman's shoulders. She frowned at him as if she wasn't sure what the blanket was for but then she gave Sam a warm smile.
"Okay, don't get me wrong here." Dean had to adjust his grip on her and he really tried to not think about her breasts pressing against him or the soft curve of her ass just inches from his hands. "But for a woman your size you're quite heavy."
She wasn't exactly petite but round in the right places, sleek lines was for some reason the term in Dean's mind, without an ounce of too much fat. However, Dean swore she outweighed Sam with ease.
"C'mon, Bambi. Use your legs."
She tried to help but in the end Dean had to more or less drag her the few steps over to the fireplace. He let her flop down in the chair and then straightened his back with a groan.
She just sat there and watched him with her strange eyes, the silver stood in stark contrast to her dark face which made her stare even more eery.
"Let's try this again." Dean didn't point the gun back at her, she didn't seem threatening at all, but he kept it in hand, just in case. "What are you?"
"K...k..." She tried to speak but growled in frustration, deep and rumbling, when she couldn't bring the words out. She didn't seem to mind that the blanket was hanging loosely around her shoulders and she did nothing to cover herself up.
"Sam?" At a loss Dean looked over to Sam, seeking for help, but Sam only did this little jaw jerking thing he did when he'd no clue what was going on either.
"Maybe we should test her?" Sam suggested but looked anything but certain. "You know, silver, holy water, the usual?"
At least that sounded like a plan.
"Keep an eye on her." Dean handed Sam the gun. Barefoot as he was Sam better stayed inside or he would end up like their mysterious visitor with mud boots and goosebumps. They probably should light the fireplace, she must be freezing. Dean didn't allow himself to think about why he suddenly cared if a supernatural thing was comfy or not.
When Dean grabbed the keys the woman tried to talk again and the hoarse croaking came closer to words this time. Not close enough to understand what she was trying to say, though. If she was trying to say anything at all, which Dean wasn't so sure about.
"Sorry, sweetheart. I don't understand you." Dean smiled at her in a what he hoped was a reassuring way. They had to make sure she wasn't a monster of some kind but he didn't get any evil vibes from her and he didn't want to scare her more than necessary. Maybe she really was just a woman lost in the woods. Without her clothes and not able to walk or talk. Yeah, right.
She returned his smile, showing perfect white teeth and the beginning of laugh lines around her strange silver eyes.
Just a normal woman, Dean thought with a bitter hint of humor when he opened the door and stepped out into the rainy night.
He ducked his head against the rain and jogged over to where he'd parked the Impala. Which wasn't there.
Confused Dean looked around, maybe he'd parked a little more at the side?
The place in front of the cabin wasn't that big, the trees formed a dark wall just a few yards away, and even in the middle of the night and in this rain it should be easy to find a car as big as the Impala. Hell, everything bigger than a Matchbox car should be easy to find.
"What the hell?" In disbelief Dean turned the whole 360 but the muddy place in front of the cabin stayed Impala free. Close to hyperventilating Dean ran around the cabin, he had no idea why or how she could have gotten to the back but he checked anyway. Sure enough he found what he'd feared. No Impala.
"What have you done to my car?" Furious Dean stormed back in the cabin. He snagged the gun out of Sam's hand and pointed it directly at the woman's head.
"What's with the car?" Sam asked but Dean didn't bother with an explanation.
"Where is my car?" He was right in the woman's face who didn't seem to be impressed. She locked eyes with him and tried to say something but the only recognizable word was "I", the rest was inarticulate nonsense.
Dean flicked the safety off.
The woman rolled her eyes at him and then she moved. She swatted the gun out of her face with more force than either of them had expected. Her uncoordinated blow hit Dean's forearm like a truck and the gun cluttered to the floor. Carried by the force of her own movement the woman fell out of the chair and landed in a tangled heap of limbs and blanket on the floor.
"Fuuuug." She groaned into the floorboards.
"Did she just say fuck?" Holding his hand Dean stood over her while Sam scooped up the gun and joined them. He didn't aim at the woman who had trouble to fight her way out of the blanket.
She finally managed to prop herself up on her left elbow, leaving most of the blanket behind and Dean did his best to not stare at her bare chest.
"What the …?" Sam didn't seem to have that decency because he crouched next to her to have a better look. "Dean, look."
Gently but firmly Sam grabbed her right shoulder and moved it backwards to gain them an even better view.
"Sam." Dean hissed. Staring down on naked women on the floor like some creep wasn't Dean's idea of a gentleman but then he noticed the scars under her right collarbone. Not just scars, letters carved into her flesh.
S.W. and D.W.
Crude lines like a kid had drawn them. Two kids, to be exact, with knives on the wooden floor of the Impala.
Dean met Sam's eyes and saw the same realization dawning on his brother's face.
"Baby?" Dean almost didn't dare to ask. This was too weird even for their standards.
The woman gave him a small nod and said something that came close to "Finally, dumbass."
Dean took in the sight in front of him. She still lay on the floor with the blanket barely covering anything. In the poor light her dark skin almost looked black and the way she was holding herself up on one elbow emphasized the curves of her body, clearly feminine but in a more solid way. Her silver, no chrome, eyes were fixed on him and she patiently waited for him to come to terms.
Sam drew the blanket over her shoulder to cover her up again and helped her up to get back in the chair. He groaned under her weight Dean noticed not without satisfaction.
When she was settled once again in the chair Sam stepped back and unsure what to do next the brothers just stood there for a moment.
"Dude." Dean rubbed the back of his head with a wary look over to the woman. "Baby is a babe."
Chapter 4
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