Every Line Around Your Smile
Every Line Around Your Smile
Author: enigmaticblue
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters; too bad, so sad.
Pairings/Characters: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: Set in during Somewhere Back of the Sun, sometime during the fall of 2015.
Word Count: ~4300
Summary: As far as Dean was concerned, werewolves were right up there with witches.
A/N: Written for the
hc_bingo prompt, “blood loss”. Title from the Over the Rhine song, “When I Go.”
Dean rubbed his hands on the thighs of his jeans, leaning back against the threadbare cushions of their couch. “Are you sure it’s not just a rabid dog?”
When Maryanne had arrived with a request to speak to him and Cas privately, Dean had helped get the little kids into their jackets and hats, and sent them outside to play. He’d left the living room window cracked just a bit so he could keep an ear out.
“No, not entirely certain,” Maryanne replied. “But the deaths are all occurring around a full moon, and it’s been going on for a few months now.”
Dean figured he didn’t have a choice. Werewolves were bad news, and while he would have been just as happy passing on this hunt, werewolves were best left to the professionals.
He glanced over at Cas, sighed, and said reluctantly, “Yeah, I can go.”
Cas cleared his throat. “You mean, we can go.”
Dean offered a strained smile. “Fine. We can go. We’re going to need someone to watch the kids.”
“You know I will,” Maryanne replied. “As long as you need.”
“When’s the next full moon?” Dean asked.
“Next weekend,” Cas said immediately.
Dean glanced at him, surprised that Cas would have that information right off the top of his head. “Really? You know that?”
“It’s one of those things that’s useful to know,” Cas replied equably.
“It’s going to take you a couple of days to get there,” Maryanne said briskly. “I’ll call ahead and let Luella know you’re coming.”
Dean sighed. “Great. Thanks, Maryanne.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry about pushing this, but this isn’t the kind of problem you leave up to amateurs.” Maryanne gave them each a hug. “I’ll be back in a couple of days to take over for you.”
Dean half-expected Cas to question Dean about his reluctance to go on the hunt as soon as Maryanne had left, but Cas just gave Dean a quick, sharp look and went about his business. There were plenty of things to do to prepare for the trip, and Dean worked on getting those chores done as Cas chivvied the kids through their homework and dinner and then up to bed.
It wasn’t until they were lying side by side in bed that Cas asked, “What has you so worried?”
Dean sighed. “You know, I used to live for the hunt. I never thought I’d settle down. I figured I’d die young, chasing down some monster, and I was okay with that.”
“And now?” Cas prompted when Dean stopped.
“Now, I want to see our kids grow up. I want to die an old man, preferably in my bed. I want-dammit, Cas. I want a lot of things, and they’re all right here.”
“And you’re freaked out about this hunt because of that?”
Dean rolled over and pressed his face against Cas’ shoulder. “I can’t forget that every hunt we go on means a chance that you or I don’t make it home. And I don’t want that weight. I don’t want that burden.”
“Then we’ll just have to make sure that we both come home in one piece,” Cas murmured, pressing a hand to the back of Dean’s head. “We’ll be fine.”
“You never know on a hunt,” Dean replied. “But yeah, we’ll be okay.”
Dean had to believe that, or he’d never go out, and he knew that he’d never let Cas out of his sight.
~~~~~
Three days later, they were heading west towards Sugar City, Idaho. It would have been more than 10 hours in the car before the apocalypse, but now the trip took two days, over roads nobody had bothered to maintain.
Out of long practice, they spread out one sleeping bag and pulled the second over the top of them, zipping the bags together. The night air was cool enough to make their shared body heat necessary, and they curled up together, Dean spooning Cas from behind.
By the time they woke up the next morning, they’d rolled over so that Cas was wrapped around Dean, instead of the other way around. Dean smiled, relishing Cas’ strong arms wrapped around him, and the feeling of Cas’ legs tangled with his own. He could feel Cas’ breath hot on the back of his neck, and Dean stayed where he was, listening to the sound of birds, and the chirp of crickets.
“I know you’re awake,” Cas murmured against his skin. “We should probably get on the road.”
“We probably should,” Dean agreed. “We’ll need to poke around, ask some questions. With any luck, we’ll find out that someone got bitten by a rabid dog.”
“Wouldn’t that mean we’d have two werewolves?” Cas asked.
Dean hitched a shoulder. “Hard to say. Werewolves are tough. They’re people most of the time, and they don’t remember doing the killing. And then you’ve got to explain why you’ve just killed somebody’s family member or their neighbor.” He sighed. “Werewolves are messy. Last time…”
Dean stopped and rolled out of the sleeping bag. He didn’t like remembering the last werewolf he’d had to deal with, because that meant dealing with memories of Sam.
“Last time?” Cas prompted.
“Last time, Sam hooked up with the girl who turned out to be a werewolf. It wasn’t pretty,” Dean said shortly.
Cas didn’t press for more information, probably because he knew that the subject of Sam was closed.
Dean didn’t think he’d ever be willing to talk about Sam.
They made the rest of the drive in what might have been uncomfortable silence if they didn’t know each other so well. Cas knew enough to leave Dean to his thoughts, and Dean appreciated the time to push aside the old memories that threatened to surface.
By the time they arrived in Sugar City, Dean felt as though he’d put the past behind him again, and he reached out to put a hand on Cas’ leg. “Thanks.”
Cas shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”
And that was another nice thing about having a partner who knew him so well, Dean thought. He rarely had to explain himself.
Following Maryanne’s instructions, they pulled up in front of an old courthouse, ignoring the curious stares they drew from the folks they passed. Once they’d gotten out of the car, Dean asked an elderly man where they could find Luella Obinsk, and they followed those directions to an office in the bowels of the building.
Luella stood to greet them as Dean led the way inside, and they introduced themselves. She was a large, imposing woman, nearly as tall as Dean, with a solid, square build. She shook their hands, but immediately said, “No offense to Maryanne, but I don’t know what you boys are going to be able to do for us. We take care of our own problems around here.”
Dean shrugged. “We’ve hunted a lot of things in the past, Ms. Obinsk,” he said, sensing that the woman would appreciate the courtesy. “We just want to help, and Maryanne asked us as a favor.”
Her eyes were still narrowed suspiciously, but she nodded. “Maryanne said you were the best, and she usually knows what she’s talking about.”
Dean figured that begrudging admission was as good as it was going to get. “Have you heard about any attacks by rabid dogs lately? Anybody get bitten by something?”
Luella’s mouth twisted, and she raised an eyebrow. “No, but folks around here tend to do their own doctoring, so I wouldn’t necessarily have heard.”
“Have you heard about any other animal attacks in the area?” Dean asked.
Luella frowned. “Recently? I told Maryanne everything I knew.”
“Not necessarily recently,” Dean said, trying out his best grin on her. “Just in general.”
“My dad talked about some attacks in the area when he was a boy. They thought it was a wolf, but they never found it.” Luella shrugged. “I don’t see what that has to do with the current problem, though.”
“Maybe nothing,” Dean replied. “We’re just trying to cover all our bases. Do you mind if we ask around?”
“Ask all you like,” Luella said. “Folks around here tend to be pretty closed-mouthed, though.”
Dean smiled. “Well, we’re just here to help. If we can’t, we’ll head home to our kids.”
Luella’s expression softened marginally. “If you can help, it would be appreciated. Folks are scared to go out after dark now. I’ll give you my address in case you run into trouble, but I’m afraid you’re on your own.”
Her prediction turned out to be accurate. Dean had been on a few hunts with Cas over the last few years, and they’d never had the kind of trouble getting information that they were facing now. No one would talk to them; most people avoided meeting Dean’s eyes, and some stared right past Dean like he was invisible.
By the time the sun set, and the waxing moon rose, Cas’ mouth was set in a thin, grim line. “What’s up?” Dean asked as they prepared to camp out again.
“I don’t like this place,” Cas intoned. “They aren’t friendly.”
“There are a lot of people all over the world who aren’t friendly, Cas,” Dean replied wearily. “They don’t like strangers here. That’s not so different from home.”
“I’m not used to being a stranger,” Cas admitted, staring at the fire they’d started. “And I’m not used to people looking at us with such suspicion.”
Dean tugged Cas closer. “Yeah, I know. It’s different from what we’re used to.”
“If the werewolf turns out to be someone they know, I do not think they’ll react well if we kill him or her. These people won’t accept our explanation.”
“No, they won’t.” Dean sighed and pressed his face into the crook of Cas’ neck. “Look, there’s nothing we can do about it now. The werewolf will be active tomorrow night. We’ll keep poking around, and maybe get some answers. If we can’t find it by the time the full moon passes, and they still don’t want our help, then we say fuck them and head home.”
Dean felt Cas nod. “Okay. I’ll follow your lead.”
Dean just held him tightly.
~~~~~
They didn’t get many more answers the next day, but they kept asking anyway, putting up with hostile stares and dirty looks.
The questions paid off when they found a teenage boy who had actually seen the most recent attack. “No one believed me when I said it was Pete Morrison,” the boy said. “I mean, his teeth looked different and his eyes were weird, but it was still him.”
Dean nodded. “We believe you. Where does Morrison live?”
The boy gave them directions, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. “You won’t tell anybody what I said, right? I don’t want to get into trouble.”
“We won’t say anything,” Cas promised. “No one will know what you’ve told us.”
The boy gave a nervous bob of his head. “Great. Thanks.”
Since they had a solid lead, Dean decided that their best bet was to stake out Morrison’s place and shadow him until they knew for certain that he was-or wasn’t-the werewolf. It was a gamble, but Dean had taken bigger risks in the past, and this was one he’d figured was worth it.
He and Cas found a ridge overlooking Morrison’s farm and hunkered down, taking turns using the pair of binoculars that Dean had brought.
Dean nudged Cas with his elbow. “You okay?”
“Fine,” Cas assured him, keeping the binoculars trained on the front door. “I just want to get back home.”
Dean smiled. “You and me both. Let me see.”
They traded off for the next few hours as the sun set, and the full moon rose. Their patience was rewarded when Dean spotted a man exiting the house. From their vantage point, he could see the fangs and claws that Morrison sported, and Dean gripped Cas’ arm. “We’ve got eyes on the werewolf,” Dean murmured. “Are you loaded for bear?”
“I’ve got silver bullets,” Cas assured him. “Let’s move.”
Dean didn’t need further confirmation. They moved as one down the hill to follow Morrison, running downhill. Dean’s knee twinged angrily, but he pushed the pain aside; he was used to it by now.
They followed Morrison as best they could, tracking him across the fields. Dean was a decent tracker, and the light of the full moon worked to their advantage. Still, Dean was grateful for Cas’ steady presence; he wouldn’t have trusted a stranger to accompany them on this hunt.
Unfortunately, they lost Morrison about a mile away from his house, amidst the underbrush of the pocket of trees marking the edge of the fields of sugar beets. Dean eventually found signs of Morrison’s passage, but he knew they were probably going to be too late to save the next victim.
They followed the trail through the brush, but had to stop when they emerged from the trees onto a dirt and gravel road. There was no way to tell which way Morrison had gone, or if he’d even stick to the road, but unless they were going to pack it in for the night, Dean knew their best chance to stop the werewolf was to split up.
“Dammit,” Dean muttered. “Okay, you head right, and I’ll go left. Holler if you need me.”
“Be careful,” Cas replied.
Dean nodded. “Yeah, you too.”
Moving as fast as his bum leg would take him, Dean headed down the road, keeping a sharp lookout for any sign of the werewolf. The night was quiet around him, and all Dean could hear was his own footsteps and harsh breathing. He wanted be the one to run into the werewolf, but the sound of gunfire behind him dashed that hope.
Dean turned around and ran as fast as he could in the direction Cas had gone, cursing and limping with every step.
Dean found Cas half a mile down the road, sprawled on the ground, his hands clutching his abdomen. Blood was oozing out between Cas’ fingers, and Dean dropped to his knees with a grunt. “What happened?” he demanded.
Cas cried out as Dean applied pressure. “I don’t think that’s going to work.”
“Fuck, yes, it’s going to work,” Dean shot back, stripping out of his jacket and wadding it up to staunch the blood. “Just hang on. Where’s the werewolf?”
“I don’t know,” Cas gasped out. “I think I clipped it, but it ran off.”
Dean looked around wildly, reaching for his gun with one hand and pressing down hard on Cas’ wounds with the other. “Great. That’s great. I’ll-”
Whatever Dean was about to say was preempted by snarls of rage and pain, and Dean twisted and raised his weapon. Morrison had the glowing eyes, claws, and fangs of a werewolf, and he was hurtling towards Dean’s position all too quickly. Dean emptied his clip without hesitation, and Morrison went down, his claws and teeth disappearing, leaving behind an all-too-human body.
Dean didn’t like to think about what kind of trouble they were likely to get into once the good folks of Sugar City found the body, but he ignored that problem in favor of Cas’ injuries. “Did he get you with his teeth, or was it just the claws, Cas?” Dean demanded.
“Just claws,” Cas assured him.
“Hang on,” Dean said. “I need to see how bad it is.”
He lifted Cas’ shirt just long enough to see the three long rents in the skin and muscle, although he felt a small measure of relief when he realized the wounds didn’t go any deeper. “This is going to need a lot of stitches,” Dean said. “But he stopped just short of disemboweling you.”
Cas grunted. “Cold comfort.”
“I’m sure. Look, Cas-”
“You need to hide the body and get the car,” Cas said. “I’m not going to be able to walk back, and you’re not going to be able to carry me. You can stitch me up, and then we’ll burn the body.”
Dean knew that was the only possible solution, but he didn’t like the idea of leaving Cas alone for as long as it would take to retrieve the Impala. “You’re losing a lot of blood,” Dean said.
“Then you’d better hurry,” Cas replied grimly. “Because unless you want to try to explain to someone why we just shot that man, we don’t have another choice.”
Dean nodded. “All right, but let’s get you off the road.”
Cas passed out while Dean was dragging him out of sight, and Dean had to lightly slap his cheeks in order to bring him back around. “You have to keep pressure on the wounds,” Dean said urgently. “Can you do that?”
“I’ll have to,” Cas said faintly.
Dean hesitated, but finally nodded. “Just hang in there, okay?”
Cas nodded, his face pale in the moonlight. “Go.”
Dean’s leg hurt like a motherfucker as he limped towards the car as quickly as he could. His hands were sticky with Cas’ blood, and Dean swallowed thickly. There had been no sign of a bite, and Dean had to believe that Cas hadn’t been infected.
But there had been a lot of blood.
Getting the car back to Cas’ position took far too much time, and Dean’s mind was racing the whole way. Even though Dean would have preferred to burn Morrison’s body and skip town-his usual M.O. in the past-he needed to get Cas stitched up, and he needed a clean, well-lit place to do it.
By the time Dean got back to the car, he could feel his knee swelling, and he knew it wasn’t going to be up for much the next few days. Driving was going to be bad enough, but there was no other choice.
He drove as quickly as he dared back to Cas’ position and left the headlights on while he dragged Morrison’s body under better cover. With luck, Dean thought, the elements and wild animals would take care of it before anybody found it.
Cas was still conscious, but barely. “You should burn the body,” he said as Dean hauled him up with a grunt.
“You don’t have that kind of time,” Dean replied, noting with alarm that his jacket was wet with blood. “I need to get you stitched up.”
“But-”
“We can deal with the fallout,” Dean snapped irritably. “But I’m not losing you.”
“Where are we going?” Cas asked, his voice faint.
“The only place we can go,” Dean replied. “Just hold tight.”
He drove to Luella’s place, hoping that he’d read her right. Maybe she hadn’t wanted them there, but she was a friend of Maryanne’s, and Dean thought she’d be happy that they’d taken care of the problem.
She opened the door, her eyes widening when she saw the blood on his shirt and hands. “What happened?”
“We got it, but it got Cas,” Dean replied briefly. “I need to get him stitched up.”
Luella hesitated. “All right. Let’s get him in here.”
She helped him get Cas into the house, and they ended up helping Cas stretch out on her long dining room table. “The light will be better in here,” Luella explained briefly.
“I’ve got a kit in my car,” Dean said. “I’ll grab it.”
By the time Dean got back with the box of first aid supplies he still kept in the trunk, Luella had cut Cas’ shirt off of him, and was helping him drink from a large bottle of whiskey. Cas swallowed convulsively, and Dean nodded with approval.
They worked in silence, Luella helping to sponge away blood and clean the wounds with antibacterial solution before Dean began to stitch Cas up with careful movements. Cas passed out about halfway through, and Dean was grateful for that. His hands started shaking with exertion about halfway through, but Dean powered through as best he could, keeping his stitches small and even.
“You do good work,” Luella said when Dean finished the last stitch.
Dean shrugged off the praise and began taping a large gauze pad over the wounds. “I’ve had practice.”
“It’s probably close, but I don’t think he’ll need a transfusion,” Luella said. “It would probably make him feel better faster, but the nearest hospital is three hours away.”
Dean nodded. “I think he’ll be okay without one.”
“Tell me,” Luella said quietly. “Was it Pete Morrison?”
Dean was too tired to keep the surprised expression off his face, and Luella shrugged. “I saw you talking to Tim Collins, and I know what he’d said about the attack he witnessed.”
Dean hesitated, and then confirmed. “It was him.”
“But you got him?”
“Unless there’s another werewolf around, you won’t have any more trouble,” Dean said.
Luella nodded. “And the body?”
“I hid it,” Dean admitted. “I can tell you where if you like.”
“No,” she said immediately. “I don’t want to know.” She sighed. “I’d let you stay here tonight, but I think it might be wise for you to be on your way. I’ll tell people that you went hunting, and you took your partner home after he got hurt.”
Dean grimaced. “And if someone comes after us?”
“They won’t,” Luella promised. “I’ll say that you shot at whatever went after your partner, and you think you got it. If it comes up, people will think it’s an accident. Most of them will probably be grateful that they didn’t have to deal with it.”
Dean nodded. “I appreciate it.”
“Not to be too blunt, but it was better you than someone from here. Folks might blame you, but if it had been a local, it would have torn the town apart.” She smiled mirthlessly. “But I won’t deny that it’s going to be easier if no one ever finds the body.”
“We can hope,” Dean replied.
“Let’s get your friend out to the car.” Luella helped Dean carry Cas out and settle him in the backseat. Dean grabbed the blanket from the trunk and tucked it around Cas. “Tell Maryanne I said hello,” she said. “Travel safe, and be sure he drinks plenty of liquids.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Dean headed out of town, back towards Cypress Grove, glancing at Cas frequently in the rearview.
He wasn’t sorry they’d gone after the werewolf, mostly because he thought Morrison would have killed a lot more people before he was stopped-if he ever was. But Dean hated that Cas had been hurt, and how close Dean had come to losing him.
When the adrenaline wore off, and Dean began to crash, he pulled over on the side of the road, tilted his seat back, and dozed off.
He woke with the sun the next morning, and he immediately turned to check on Cas, who still appeared to be sleeping. Dean reached back and shook Cas’ leg. “Cas? Wake up. I need to know you’re still alive.”
Cas blinked slowly. “Dean? Where are we?”
“On the road home,” Dean replied. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” Cas admitted. “Like a werewolf tried to rip my guts out.”
Dean nodded. “Since that’s what happened, it’s not too surprising. As soon as we can, we’ll stop somewhere and get some juice, or something.” He pulled a gallon of water from the floorboard of the passenger side. “Meanwhile, drink this.”
Cas didn’t argue, which told Dean just how bad he was feeling. Dean didn’t even bother getting out to stretch his legs. All he wanted was to get home, tuck Cas up in bed, and do everything he could to speed Cas’ recovery.
Dean felt guilty as hell for even allowing Cas to get hurt, and he knew he’d feel a lot better once he had Cas at home.
“Don’t,” Cas said tiredly.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t start with the guilt,” Cas replied. “We both knew what we were getting ourselves into. As you said, there’s always a chance one of us won’t come home when we go out hunting.”
“I don’t think I can do this without you,” Dean admitted hoarsely, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. “Cas, you have to know how I feel.”
“Do you seriously think I don’t feel the same way?” Cas demanded, his voice breaking slightly on the last word. “Do you think-I gave up heaven for you, Dean, and I have no regrets.”
Dean gripped the steering wheel tightly. “I know.”
“We saved lives,” Cas said, relaxing back into the seat, his eyes drifting closed. “That’s what matters.”
Dean took a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess. I’m more interested in both of us coming back in one piece, though.”
Cas was already asleep again, though, and Dean knew that was the best thing for him. They’d take the trip in easy stages, and Dean would make sure that Cas made a full recovery.
~~~~~
“You were worried,” Cas said as they sat out on the front porch.
Dean glanced over at Cas, and then up at the full moon. “Maybe a little,” he admitted. “When you’re in the middle of a fight like that, you don’t always catch the details.”
Cas smiled. “I told you he didn’t get his teeth into me.”
“Well, you’ll forgive me for worrying until I had proof,” Dean muttered.
Cas slung an arm around Dean’s neck, pulling him in close, and pressing a kiss to the corner of Dean’s mouth. “I’m fine. Still a little sore, but I’m okay.”
“I know,” Dean replied. “Really, I wasn’t worried.”
Cas snorted.
“Okay, I wasn’t all that worried.” Dean felt a grin pull at his lips as the last of the tension slipped away. “Seriously.”
“Seriously,” Cas replied, his tone incredibly dry.
Dean just let Cas pull him close, and snugged up tight together, Dean was right where he wanted to be.
Author: enigmaticblue
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters; too bad, so sad.
Pairings/Characters: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: Set in during Somewhere Back of the Sun, sometime during the fall of 2015.
Word Count: ~4300
Summary: As far as Dean was concerned, werewolves were right up there with witches.
A/N: Written for the
hc_bingo prompt, “blood loss”. Title from the Over the Rhine song, “When I Go.”
Dean rubbed his hands on the thighs of his jeans, leaning back against the threadbare cushions of their couch. “Are you sure it’s not just a rabid dog?”
When Maryanne had arrived with a request to speak to him and Cas privately, Dean had helped get the little kids into their jackets and hats, and sent them outside to play. He’d left the living room window cracked just a bit so he could keep an ear out.
“No, not entirely certain,” Maryanne replied. “But the deaths are all occurring around a full moon, and it’s been going on for a few months now.”
Dean figured he didn’t have a choice. Werewolves were bad news, and while he would have been just as happy passing on this hunt, werewolves were best left to the professionals.
He glanced over at Cas, sighed, and said reluctantly, “Yeah, I can go.”
Cas cleared his throat. “You mean, we can go.”
Dean offered a strained smile. “Fine. We can go. We’re going to need someone to watch the kids.”
“You know I will,” Maryanne replied. “As long as you need.”
“When’s the next full moon?” Dean asked.
“Next weekend,” Cas said immediately.
Dean glanced at him, surprised that Cas would have that information right off the top of his head. “Really? You know that?”
“It’s one of those things that’s useful to know,” Cas replied equably.
“It’s going to take you a couple of days to get there,” Maryanne said briskly. “I’ll call ahead and let Luella know you’re coming.”
Dean sighed. “Great. Thanks, Maryanne.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry about pushing this, but this isn’t the kind of problem you leave up to amateurs.” Maryanne gave them each a hug. “I’ll be back in a couple of days to take over for you.”
Dean half-expected Cas to question Dean about his reluctance to go on the hunt as soon as Maryanne had left, but Cas just gave Dean a quick, sharp look and went about his business. There were plenty of things to do to prepare for the trip, and Dean worked on getting those chores done as Cas chivvied the kids through their homework and dinner and then up to bed.
It wasn’t until they were lying side by side in bed that Cas asked, “What has you so worried?”
Dean sighed. “You know, I used to live for the hunt. I never thought I’d settle down. I figured I’d die young, chasing down some monster, and I was okay with that.”
“And now?” Cas prompted when Dean stopped.
“Now, I want to see our kids grow up. I want to die an old man, preferably in my bed. I want-dammit, Cas. I want a lot of things, and they’re all right here.”
“And you’re freaked out about this hunt because of that?”
Dean rolled over and pressed his face against Cas’ shoulder. “I can’t forget that every hunt we go on means a chance that you or I don’t make it home. And I don’t want that weight. I don’t want that burden.”
“Then we’ll just have to make sure that we both come home in one piece,” Cas murmured, pressing a hand to the back of Dean’s head. “We’ll be fine.”
“You never know on a hunt,” Dean replied. “But yeah, we’ll be okay.”
Dean had to believe that, or he’d never go out, and he knew that he’d never let Cas out of his sight.
~~~~~
Three days later, they were heading west towards Sugar City, Idaho. It would have been more than 10 hours in the car before the apocalypse, but now the trip took two days, over roads nobody had bothered to maintain.
Out of long practice, they spread out one sleeping bag and pulled the second over the top of them, zipping the bags together. The night air was cool enough to make their shared body heat necessary, and they curled up together, Dean spooning Cas from behind.
By the time they woke up the next morning, they’d rolled over so that Cas was wrapped around Dean, instead of the other way around. Dean smiled, relishing Cas’ strong arms wrapped around him, and the feeling of Cas’ legs tangled with his own. He could feel Cas’ breath hot on the back of his neck, and Dean stayed where he was, listening to the sound of birds, and the chirp of crickets.
“I know you’re awake,” Cas murmured against his skin. “We should probably get on the road.”
“We probably should,” Dean agreed. “We’ll need to poke around, ask some questions. With any luck, we’ll find out that someone got bitten by a rabid dog.”
“Wouldn’t that mean we’d have two werewolves?” Cas asked.
Dean hitched a shoulder. “Hard to say. Werewolves are tough. They’re people most of the time, and they don’t remember doing the killing. And then you’ve got to explain why you’ve just killed somebody’s family member or their neighbor.” He sighed. “Werewolves are messy. Last time…”
Dean stopped and rolled out of the sleeping bag. He didn’t like remembering the last werewolf he’d had to deal with, because that meant dealing with memories of Sam.
“Last time?” Cas prompted.
“Last time, Sam hooked up with the girl who turned out to be a werewolf. It wasn’t pretty,” Dean said shortly.
Cas didn’t press for more information, probably because he knew that the subject of Sam was closed.
Dean didn’t think he’d ever be willing to talk about Sam.
They made the rest of the drive in what might have been uncomfortable silence if they didn’t know each other so well. Cas knew enough to leave Dean to his thoughts, and Dean appreciated the time to push aside the old memories that threatened to surface.
By the time they arrived in Sugar City, Dean felt as though he’d put the past behind him again, and he reached out to put a hand on Cas’ leg. “Thanks.”
Cas shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”
And that was another nice thing about having a partner who knew him so well, Dean thought. He rarely had to explain himself.
Following Maryanne’s instructions, they pulled up in front of an old courthouse, ignoring the curious stares they drew from the folks they passed. Once they’d gotten out of the car, Dean asked an elderly man where they could find Luella Obinsk, and they followed those directions to an office in the bowels of the building.
Luella stood to greet them as Dean led the way inside, and they introduced themselves. She was a large, imposing woman, nearly as tall as Dean, with a solid, square build. She shook their hands, but immediately said, “No offense to Maryanne, but I don’t know what you boys are going to be able to do for us. We take care of our own problems around here.”
Dean shrugged. “We’ve hunted a lot of things in the past, Ms. Obinsk,” he said, sensing that the woman would appreciate the courtesy. “We just want to help, and Maryanne asked us as a favor.”
Her eyes were still narrowed suspiciously, but she nodded. “Maryanne said you were the best, and she usually knows what she’s talking about.”
Dean figured that begrudging admission was as good as it was going to get. “Have you heard about any attacks by rabid dogs lately? Anybody get bitten by something?”
Luella’s mouth twisted, and she raised an eyebrow. “No, but folks around here tend to do their own doctoring, so I wouldn’t necessarily have heard.”
“Have you heard about any other animal attacks in the area?” Dean asked.
Luella frowned. “Recently? I told Maryanne everything I knew.”
“Not necessarily recently,” Dean said, trying out his best grin on her. “Just in general.”
“My dad talked about some attacks in the area when he was a boy. They thought it was a wolf, but they never found it.” Luella shrugged. “I don’t see what that has to do with the current problem, though.”
“Maybe nothing,” Dean replied. “We’re just trying to cover all our bases. Do you mind if we ask around?”
“Ask all you like,” Luella said. “Folks around here tend to be pretty closed-mouthed, though.”
Dean smiled. “Well, we’re just here to help. If we can’t, we’ll head home to our kids.”
Luella’s expression softened marginally. “If you can help, it would be appreciated. Folks are scared to go out after dark now. I’ll give you my address in case you run into trouble, but I’m afraid you’re on your own.”
Her prediction turned out to be accurate. Dean had been on a few hunts with Cas over the last few years, and they’d never had the kind of trouble getting information that they were facing now. No one would talk to them; most people avoided meeting Dean’s eyes, and some stared right past Dean like he was invisible.
By the time the sun set, and the waxing moon rose, Cas’ mouth was set in a thin, grim line. “What’s up?” Dean asked as they prepared to camp out again.
“I don’t like this place,” Cas intoned. “They aren’t friendly.”
“There are a lot of people all over the world who aren’t friendly, Cas,” Dean replied wearily. “They don’t like strangers here. That’s not so different from home.”
“I’m not used to being a stranger,” Cas admitted, staring at the fire they’d started. “And I’m not used to people looking at us with such suspicion.”
Dean tugged Cas closer. “Yeah, I know. It’s different from what we’re used to.”
“If the werewolf turns out to be someone they know, I do not think they’ll react well if we kill him or her. These people won’t accept our explanation.”
“No, they won’t.” Dean sighed and pressed his face into the crook of Cas’ neck. “Look, there’s nothing we can do about it now. The werewolf will be active tomorrow night. We’ll keep poking around, and maybe get some answers. If we can’t find it by the time the full moon passes, and they still don’t want our help, then we say fuck them and head home.”
Dean felt Cas nod. “Okay. I’ll follow your lead.”
Dean just held him tightly.
~~~~~
They didn’t get many more answers the next day, but they kept asking anyway, putting up with hostile stares and dirty looks.
The questions paid off when they found a teenage boy who had actually seen the most recent attack. “No one believed me when I said it was Pete Morrison,” the boy said. “I mean, his teeth looked different and his eyes were weird, but it was still him.”
Dean nodded. “We believe you. Where does Morrison live?”
The boy gave them directions, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. “You won’t tell anybody what I said, right? I don’t want to get into trouble.”
“We won’t say anything,” Cas promised. “No one will know what you’ve told us.”
The boy gave a nervous bob of his head. “Great. Thanks.”
Since they had a solid lead, Dean decided that their best bet was to stake out Morrison’s place and shadow him until they knew for certain that he was-or wasn’t-the werewolf. It was a gamble, but Dean had taken bigger risks in the past, and this was one he’d figured was worth it.
He and Cas found a ridge overlooking Morrison’s farm and hunkered down, taking turns using the pair of binoculars that Dean had brought.
Dean nudged Cas with his elbow. “You okay?”
“Fine,” Cas assured him, keeping the binoculars trained on the front door. “I just want to get back home.”
Dean smiled. “You and me both. Let me see.”
They traded off for the next few hours as the sun set, and the full moon rose. Their patience was rewarded when Dean spotted a man exiting the house. From their vantage point, he could see the fangs and claws that Morrison sported, and Dean gripped Cas’ arm. “We’ve got eyes on the werewolf,” Dean murmured. “Are you loaded for bear?”
“I’ve got silver bullets,” Cas assured him. “Let’s move.”
Dean didn’t need further confirmation. They moved as one down the hill to follow Morrison, running downhill. Dean’s knee twinged angrily, but he pushed the pain aside; he was used to it by now.
They followed Morrison as best they could, tracking him across the fields. Dean was a decent tracker, and the light of the full moon worked to their advantage. Still, Dean was grateful for Cas’ steady presence; he wouldn’t have trusted a stranger to accompany them on this hunt.
Unfortunately, they lost Morrison about a mile away from his house, amidst the underbrush of the pocket of trees marking the edge of the fields of sugar beets. Dean eventually found signs of Morrison’s passage, but he knew they were probably going to be too late to save the next victim.
They followed the trail through the brush, but had to stop when they emerged from the trees onto a dirt and gravel road. There was no way to tell which way Morrison had gone, or if he’d even stick to the road, but unless they were going to pack it in for the night, Dean knew their best chance to stop the werewolf was to split up.
“Dammit,” Dean muttered. “Okay, you head right, and I’ll go left. Holler if you need me.”
“Be careful,” Cas replied.
Dean nodded. “Yeah, you too.”
Moving as fast as his bum leg would take him, Dean headed down the road, keeping a sharp lookout for any sign of the werewolf. The night was quiet around him, and all Dean could hear was his own footsteps and harsh breathing. He wanted be the one to run into the werewolf, but the sound of gunfire behind him dashed that hope.
Dean turned around and ran as fast as he could in the direction Cas had gone, cursing and limping with every step.
Dean found Cas half a mile down the road, sprawled on the ground, his hands clutching his abdomen. Blood was oozing out between Cas’ fingers, and Dean dropped to his knees with a grunt. “What happened?” he demanded.
Cas cried out as Dean applied pressure. “I don’t think that’s going to work.”
“Fuck, yes, it’s going to work,” Dean shot back, stripping out of his jacket and wadding it up to staunch the blood. “Just hang on. Where’s the werewolf?”
“I don’t know,” Cas gasped out. “I think I clipped it, but it ran off.”
Dean looked around wildly, reaching for his gun with one hand and pressing down hard on Cas’ wounds with the other. “Great. That’s great. I’ll-”
Whatever Dean was about to say was preempted by snarls of rage and pain, and Dean twisted and raised his weapon. Morrison had the glowing eyes, claws, and fangs of a werewolf, and he was hurtling towards Dean’s position all too quickly. Dean emptied his clip without hesitation, and Morrison went down, his claws and teeth disappearing, leaving behind an all-too-human body.
Dean didn’t like to think about what kind of trouble they were likely to get into once the good folks of Sugar City found the body, but he ignored that problem in favor of Cas’ injuries. “Did he get you with his teeth, or was it just the claws, Cas?” Dean demanded.
“Just claws,” Cas assured him.
“Hang on,” Dean said. “I need to see how bad it is.”
He lifted Cas’ shirt just long enough to see the three long rents in the skin and muscle, although he felt a small measure of relief when he realized the wounds didn’t go any deeper. “This is going to need a lot of stitches,” Dean said. “But he stopped just short of disemboweling you.”
Cas grunted. “Cold comfort.”
“I’m sure. Look, Cas-”
“You need to hide the body and get the car,” Cas said. “I’m not going to be able to walk back, and you’re not going to be able to carry me. You can stitch me up, and then we’ll burn the body.”
Dean knew that was the only possible solution, but he didn’t like the idea of leaving Cas alone for as long as it would take to retrieve the Impala. “You’re losing a lot of blood,” Dean said.
“Then you’d better hurry,” Cas replied grimly. “Because unless you want to try to explain to someone why we just shot that man, we don’t have another choice.”
Dean nodded. “All right, but let’s get you off the road.”
Cas passed out while Dean was dragging him out of sight, and Dean had to lightly slap his cheeks in order to bring him back around. “You have to keep pressure on the wounds,” Dean said urgently. “Can you do that?”
“I’ll have to,” Cas said faintly.
Dean hesitated, but finally nodded. “Just hang in there, okay?”
Cas nodded, his face pale in the moonlight. “Go.”
Dean’s leg hurt like a motherfucker as he limped towards the car as quickly as he could. His hands were sticky with Cas’ blood, and Dean swallowed thickly. There had been no sign of a bite, and Dean had to believe that Cas hadn’t been infected.
But there had been a lot of blood.
Getting the car back to Cas’ position took far too much time, and Dean’s mind was racing the whole way. Even though Dean would have preferred to burn Morrison’s body and skip town-his usual M.O. in the past-he needed to get Cas stitched up, and he needed a clean, well-lit place to do it.
By the time Dean got back to the car, he could feel his knee swelling, and he knew it wasn’t going to be up for much the next few days. Driving was going to be bad enough, but there was no other choice.
He drove as quickly as he dared back to Cas’ position and left the headlights on while he dragged Morrison’s body under better cover. With luck, Dean thought, the elements and wild animals would take care of it before anybody found it.
Cas was still conscious, but barely. “You should burn the body,” he said as Dean hauled him up with a grunt.
“You don’t have that kind of time,” Dean replied, noting with alarm that his jacket was wet with blood. “I need to get you stitched up.”
“But-”
“We can deal with the fallout,” Dean snapped irritably. “But I’m not losing you.”
“Where are we going?” Cas asked, his voice faint.
“The only place we can go,” Dean replied. “Just hold tight.”
He drove to Luella’s place, hoping that he’d read her right. Maybe she hadn’t wanted them there, but she was a friend of Maryanne’s, and Dean thought she’d be happy that they’d taken care of the problem.
She opened the door, her eyes widening when she saw the blood on his shirt and hands. “What happened?”
“We got it, but it got Cas,” Dean replied briefly. “I need to get him stitched up.”
Luella hesitated. “All right. Let’s get him in here.”
She helped him get Cas into the house, and they ended up helping Cas stretch out on her long dining room table. “The light will be better in here,” Luella explained briefly.
“I’ve got a kit in my car,” Dean said. “I’ll grab it.”
By the time Dean got back with the box of first aid supplies he still kept in the trunk, Luella had cut Cas’ shirt off of him, and was helping him drink from a large bottle of whiskey. Cas swallowed convulsively, and Dean nodded with approval.
They worked in silence, Luella helping to sponge away blood and clean the wounds with antibacterial solution before Dean began to stitch Cas up with careful movements. Cas passed out about halfway through, and Dean was grateful for that. His hands started shaking with exertion about halfway through, but Dean powered through as best he could, keeping his stitches small and even.
“You do good work,” Luella said when Dean finished the last stitch.
Dean shrugged off the praise and began taping a large gauze pad over the wounds. “I’ve had practice.”
“It’s probably close, but I don’t think he’ll need a transfusion,” Luella said. “It would probably make him feel better faster, but the nearest hospital is three hours away.”
Dean nodded. “I think he’ll be okay without one.”
“Tell me,” Luella said quietly. “Was it Pete Morrison?”
Dean was too tired to keep the surprised expression off his face, and Luella shrugged. “I saw you talking to Tim Collins, and I know what he’d said about the attack he witnessed.”
Dean hesitated, and then confirmed. “It was him.”
“But you got him?”
“Unless there’s another werewolf around, you won’t have any more trouble,” Dean said.
Luella nodded. “And the body?”
“I hid it,” Dean admitted. “I can tell you where if you like.”
“No,” she said immediately. “I don’t want to know.” She sighed. “I’d let you stay here tonight, but I think it might be wise for you to be on your way. I’ll tell people that you went hunting, and you took your partner home after he got hurt.”
Dean grimaced. “And if someone comes after us?”
“They won’t,” Luella promised. “I’ll say that you shot at whatever went after your partner, and you think you got it. If it comes up, people will think it’s an accident. Most of them will probably be grateful that they didn’t have to deal with it.”
Dean nodded. “I appreciate it.”
“Not to be too blunt, but it was better you than someone from here. Folks might blame you, but if it had been a local, it would have torn the town apart.” She smiled mirthlessly. “But I won’t deny that it’s going to be easier if no one ever finds the body.”
“We can hope,” Dean replied.
“Let’s get your friend out to the car.” Luella helped Dean carry Cas out and settle him in the backseat. Dean grabbed the blanket from the trunk and tucked it around Cas. “Tell Maryanne I said hello,” she said. “Travel safe, and be sure he drinks plenty of liquids.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Dean headed out of town, back towards Cypress Grove, glancing at Cas frequently in the rearview.
He wasn’t sorry they’d gone after the werewolf, mostly because he thought Morrison would have killed a lot more people before he was stopped-if he ever was. But Dean hated that Cas had been hurt, and how close Dean had come to losing him.
When the adrenaline wore off, and Dean began to crash, he pulled over on the side of the road, tilted his seat back, and dozed off.
He woke with the sun the next morning, and he immediately turned to check on Cas, who still appeared to be sleeping. Dean reached back and shook Cas’ leg. “Cas? Wake up. I need to know you’re still alive.”
Cas blinked slowly. “Dean? Where are we?”
“On the road home,” Dean replied. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” Cas admitted. “Like a werewolf tried to rip my guts out.”
Dean nodded. “Since that’s what happened, it’s not too surprising. As soon as we can, we’ll stop somewhere and get some juice, or something.” He pulled a gallon of water from the floorboard of the passenger side. “Meanwhile, drink this.”
Cas didn’t argue, which told Dean just how bad he was feeling. Dean didn’t even bother getting out to stretch his legs. All he wanted was to get home, tuck Cas up in bed, and do everything he could to speed Cas’ recovery.
Dean felt guilty as hell for even allowing Cas to get hurt, and he knew he’d feel a lot better once he had Cas at home.
“Don’t,” Cas said tiredly.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t start with the guilt,” Cas replied. “We both knew what we were getting ourselves into. As you said, there’s always a chance one of us won’t come home when we go out hunting.”
“I don’t think I can do this without you,” Dean admitted hoarsely, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. “Cas, you have to know how I feel.”
“Do you seriously think I don’t feel the same way?” Cas demanded, his voice breaking slightly on the last word. “Do you think-I gave up heaven for you, Dean, and I have no regrets.”
Dean gripped the steering wheel tightly. “I know.”
“We saved lives,” Cas said, relaxing back into the seat, his eyes drifting closed. “That’s what matters.”
Dean took a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess. I’m more interested in both of us coming back in one piece, though.”
Cas was already asleep again, though, and Dean knew that was the best thing for him. They’d take the trip in easy stages, and Dean would make sure that Cas made a full recovery.
~~~~~
“You were worried,” Cas said as they sat out on the front porch.
Dean glanced over at Cas, and then up at the full moon. “Maybe a little,” he admitted. “When you’re in the middle of a fight like that, you don’t always catch the details.”
Cas smiled. “I told you he didn’t get his teeth into me.”
“Well, you’ll forgive me for worrying until I had proof,” Dean muttered.
Cas slung an arm around Dean’s neck, pulling him in close, and pressing a kiss to the corner of Dean’s mouth. “I’m fine. Still a little sore, but I’m okay.”
“I know,” Dean replied. “Really, I wasn’t worried.”
Cas snorted.
“Okay, I wasn’t all that worried.” Dean felt a grin pull at his lips as the last of the tension slipped away. “Seriously.”
“Seriously,” Cas replied, his tone incredibly dry.
Dean just let Cas pull him close, and snugged up tight together, Dean was right where he wanted to be.