Fic: Knowing Skye
Title: Knowing Skye
Spoilers: set in the Skyeverse (surrounding my fic "Wild by Skye")
Summary: Dean finally learns the truth about Skye.
Timeline: Go here 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 :(
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Dean couldn't count the times he pulled out his cell phone and just sat there with his thumb hovering over the keypad.
His first impulse was always to call Sam. Dean was used to being out of touch with his father; John left on hunts and came back days later, sometimes bloody and battered, but okay. John could take care of himself, so Dean didn't worry too much about him. But Sam… Dean couldn't shake the mantel of protector of his little brother. He didn't trust that Sam was okay when he was so far out of Dean's sphere.
Dean caved twice since Sam left, actually dialed his brother's number. Sam didn't answer. Dean took the painful hint and stopped calling. He tried to take some comfort in the fact that Sam might have cut and run, but he didn't change his number. He must not mean for the separation to be forever if he left that means of contact open. That's what Dean told himself to not really freak out, anyway.
John and Dean talked infrequently, but always about their hunts. Never about it, the family blown apart and the bits and pieces lying scattered around every word between them. The phone conversations between Dean and John were more of a 'I've heard your voice and know you're alive' fair than actual communication. It was reassuring, but did nothing to heal the gaping wound.
For the innumerable time, Dean sat in the Impala and stared at his phone. He ached to connect with someone… Dean, at his core, was not a loner.
He longed to hear Sam's voice.
He steeled himself to endure a stilted and avoidant conversation with his father.
In the end, he called neither.
Instead, his thumb put in a number recently learned and memorized. He liked the motion and chain of events that would follow. Dial a number, get a person, connect, and just like that stop being alone. It might not be family, but it was nice to have someone to call who would answer and then actually have things to say. Someone who actually wanted to talk to him. Someone who cared about Dean Winchester.
The voice that answered was familiar and yet still so new. "Hey."
Dean smiled a little. "Hey, Skye… so I was thinking about something else we might try to catch Trey." Skye's help trying to catch Trey filled a need Dean had to discuss a hunt with someone else, someone involved, his partner in the mission. Not John or Sam, but someone who worked alongside him, had his back, someone to watch after, the way Dean was wired to behave. In Dean's twisted world, it felt normal.
There was a silence on the other end of the phone, two seconds too long, and Dean frowned. Skye was always game for brainstorming about catching that damn wolf. She was frighteningly determined and focused on that one goal. Dean saw in it a bit of his father's one-track vendetta against the thing that killed Mary; Skye was that intent on catching and 'saving' that mad animal.
"Skye?"
"Yeah. Ah, listen, Dean… let's take a break for a night, okay?"
Dean was instantly on alert. Skye 'taking a break' from finding the wolf she called Trey was like Sam saying 'let's hit the road, Dad, we've lived here too long,' or John telling his sons 'go outside and play, boys, being kids is more important than hunting'. It set off all of Dean's alarms.
"Take a break?" he parroted incredulously.
"Yes. I've got this… family thing that's come up. We can pick back up tracking Trey tomorrow."
"What kind of 'family thing'?"
There was another uncomfortable pause. "I can't really go into it."
Dean frowned, his free hand wrapping tighter around the steering wheel. Dean knew that tone… there was only one thing Skye was ever cagey about, and it was that damn town secret she protected like her life depended on it. Even from him.
Dean tried to be understanding, but he was gun-shy on the matter of secrets. Sam told no one he was applying to college until he had a full ride to Stanford to propel him out the door.
"Look… I thought catching Trey was your top priority."
"It is."
"Well, then surely your family can deal with this 'family thing' without you - which apparently will only be an issue for one night - while we look for Trey."
"I'm sorry, Dean. I can't back out of this… thing…"
"Skye…"
"It's just one night. I promise. Then we can pick up looking for Trey in the morning."
Dean sat stolidly behind the wheel with the phone pressed to his ear, his face a mix between a scowl and a pout. In the back of his mind, Dean was balking at the realization he was being ditched. Skye was leaving.
Okay, only for one night, but Dean was not in a place where he wanted to be left for any length of time. Not for a night, not for the duration of a college degree…
"Can I help?" he finally asked.
That seemed to startle Skye. "You want to help?"
"Sure." He suddenly felt decidedly awkward. It was that special brand of awkward Skye could bring out in him, where he was more like Sam dealing with the opposite sex than his regular, suave Dean Winchester self.
There was a soft sound of air in his ear through the phone, and he knew it was the sound of Skye giving in and smiling. "Dean…" Now the smile was in her voice.
One corner of Dean's mouth began to curl upward. "Yeah?"
He could almost see her shaking her head, running her fingers absently through her hair, looking around to see if anyone nearby noticed the soft blush touching her cheeks.
Dean readjusted his position in his seat and cleared his throat.
Finally, Skye said, "I appreciate the offer, but this isn't something you can really help with." Her voice was cautious again, full of that 'secret' that kept her distant from him.
Dean was feeling uneasy about this whole 'family thing'. The hairs on the back of his neck were rising, a warning sign he always heeded on the hunt, because Dean's gut was smarter than Dean's brain a lot of the time. "Are you in trouble?"
"What? No… no, it's nothing like that. Just… family stuff. You know how it is."
Dean swallowed convulsively. Skye knew nothing about his family, the shattered remnants of the Winchesters, anyway. "Yeah… family… what're ya gonna do, right?"
Skye's voice was full of warmth again. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine. I'll meet up with you tomorrow, okay, Dean?"
Dean forced his disquiet to the background. "Yeah, sure."
"Okay… and Dean?"
Skye's tone changed from comforting and calm to laced with intensity and it made Dean freeze. "Yes?"
"There is something I need you to do for me."
"Name it."
"I want you to leave town… just for tonight."
Dean was back to full alert. "Why?"
"I… I can't tell you, but it's important. Please, Dean… I'm asking you, just… stay gone until morning."
Dean frowned. "Skye, what is going on?"
"I need you to trust me on this."
Dean fidgeted uncomfortably. It went against all his instincts to walk away, especially when his gut told him something strange was going on, but Skye was making a request on the basis of his faith in her. He might not be much of a guy for relationships, but he knew his reaction to that request would have far-reaching consequences if he didn't agree. The problem was that he did trust Skye, but asking him to leave on the eve of whatever was going down…
"Dean?"
"Yeah."
"Promise me you'll steer clear of Eclipse River until tomorrow?"
It felt wrong down to his bones, but what else did he have outside of Skye? A father he couldn't look at without wanting to scream, a brother who wouldn't answer his calls…
"Okay, sure."
Skye sighed in audible relief. "Thank you, Dean."
"Uh huh," Dean grumbled, discomfited by the whole idea. "So… call you tomorrow?"
"I'll call you," she said, and Dean liked the way that settled in his chest. He could expect a call now. That was a warm and satisfying feeling. Someone wanting him, reaching out to contact him. He wasn't alone because he would be waiting for Skye to call him.
"Well, be careful," Dean said, "and I'll see you tomorrow."
"All right, see you tomorrow… bye, Dean."
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The problem was that Dean was virtually incapable of blindly obeying any order if it didn't come from John Winchester. That was the 'you should have known better' anthem repeating in his head as he walked down the dark streets of Eclipse River, Oregon.
He hadn't known what to expect, given Skye's explicit request that he stay away from town, but what he found was a ghost town. If he hadn't seen Eclipse River in the daytime, full of townsfolk and life, he would think he'd wandered across an abandoned town.
Dean walked the streets, baffled by the sheer silence. It wasn't just the businesses on Main Street that were quiet as a tomb. That was to be expected given the hour. But when Dean wandered toward the residential part of town, he found that just as empty and dark. No lights coming from the windows, no chatter of late-night visitors still lingering on porches, no dogs barking (that was another weird thing about Eclipse River - no one had pets. Dean had not seen a single dog or cat since he got to town).
He passed the home of the Lauchlans, Skye's parents, and found the home like all the others. Dark as if dead. Feeling a knot of dread in his stomach, Dean began to walk/jog across town to Skye's house. The entire way, his hunter instincts were screaming at him 'not right, not right, not right, this is not right!'
He'd known for days something wasn't right, but he kept letting Skye dismiss his insistence on learning what was wrong with the town. Now he was ready to kick the shit out of himself for that. Skye might be hurt somewhere, and all because he hadn't pushed harder to learn the truth.
He'd failed Skye, like he failed Sam. Couldn't make the family enough for Sam, couldn't keep the family together. Couldn't keep Skye safe.
Dean reached Skye's small house and felt like groaning when he found it just as lifeless as all the others.
Starting to feel desperate, Dean took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Skye's number on the remote chance she'd answer.
She didn't.
"Shit!" Dean hissed as he put his phone back in his pocket and turned, wondering where to go from there.
He spun around sharply and peered into the dark woods behind Skye's house when a wolf howled, somewhere not far away.
Dean's jaw set. He thought of that hiker he'd saved the night he met Skye, and he thought of Skye, who liked to spend so much time in the woods, heedless of the dangerous wolf on the loose.
Dean took off into the forest on impulse, suddenly certain Skye was in there and that she was in danger from that wild animal she called Trey.
He had to find her.
He had to save her.
The full moon made his movement through the forest easier. Trees and bushes had their outlines painted pale silver, and that was all that kept Dean from running smack into a trunk on several occasions. He knew these woods better now, after days in them with Skye (who obviously knew them like the back of her hand). He had an idea where to go. He would try the old riverbed first. She always went back there, convinced Trey might one day show up.
"Skye!" he called out loudly as he ran as fast as he dared in the dark. He drew his gun from his pants and ran with it in hand, ready to use it against that crazy ass wolf if he saw it, to hell if whether or not Skye would object. If she was in danger, she lost her say in the matter.
"Skye!!"
Dean had almost reached the riverbed when a noise drew him up short and he stopped, turning to try and pinpoint the source of the sound. It was a rustling of leaves, the snapping of a twig.
Something was coming.
Dean's eyes frantically searched the darkness, straining to pick out shapes. His heart was still pounding in his chest, his breath loud in his ears, but he commanded his body to be quiet and let him listen.
Then he saw a flash of fleeting painted silver on gray as a wolf dashed past between two shadowed trees.
Dean jerked the gun up, trying to follow the animal's path…
When another one followed the first. Then another. Then another. Dean stood, dumbfounded, as a veritable sea of wolves poured out of the blackness and raced across the forest right in front of him. They were like ghosts in the night, elusive figures that came into existence to vanish just as quickly. Their sound, their paws on the earth and their panting breathing, lasted longer than the sight of them.
And there seemed no end to them. Wolves, wolves… so many he couldn't begin to count. Where had they all come from? Dean and Skye had been in the woods a hell of a lot, and they hadn't seen one (not even that damned Trey they were hunting). This was a whole damn wolf pack.
Dean was watching them race past like a gray pelt river, struck by the sight of them all, when one broke from the flow. It bounded through brush, over fallen limbs, and came right toward him.
On reflex, Dean lifted his weapon and trained it on the animal. She came within ten feet of him and stopped, tongue lolling and golden eyes fixed on him. Dean couldn't explain why he pegged her as a female, but his gut was adamant on the point. Not that it mattered beyond one simple fact… this thing couldn't be Trey.
But that didn't mean she wasn't dangerous.
Dean adjusted his grip on his gun, prepared to fire if she came any closer. He didn't want to shoot until he had no choice. He only had fifteen rounds in his clip, and there were way more than fifteen wolves in the forest with him. Normally, he would expect the others would bolt if he fired his gun, but Trey hadn't been scared by a gun. If anything, sight of a firearm pissed him off. Dean wasn't going to ignore the possibility that that was the behavior of most wolves in this particular chunk of forest.
The wolf stood staring at him, but she didn't come closer. She was watching him closely, stared into his eyes, and Dean…
He blinked and shook his head. It was crazy, but damn if he didn't think for half a second he knew her somehow. He put it down to the moonlight playing tricks on him.
Before either of them could make a move, another wolf left the running pack and leapt into the standoff between man and animal.
This one made Dean's hair stand on end. The second wolf came not as an onlooker, but as an attacker. His head was low, ears back, and the wolf's lips pulled back to bear sharp teeth.
Dean shifted the aim of his gun.
Before he could fire, the female wolf snarled and snapped. Not at Dean, but at the other wolf. Before Dean's eyes (which were growing wider by the second), the female wolf rushed to put herself between the aggressive newcomer and Dean.
For a tense moment, the two wolves stared at one another.
The male wolf licked its gleaming white teeth, hackles making it look prickly to the touch, then it sneezed as if in disgust and turned away. With a flick of its tail, it rejoined the pack and left Dean and his wolf defender alone.
Dean lowered his gun and returned his attention to the wolf before him. She had turned to face him and was watching him intently again.
"Uh… I know you don't understand me or anything, but… I'm just looking for someone. When you and your friends leave, I'll go about my business. I'm not after wolves tonight, so, yeah, no reason to call back all your friends and turn my ass into dinner, all right?"
The wolf shifted uneasily, turned back her ears, and whined. She looked back at the last of the fleeing pack then back to Dean.
Dean fully expected the animal to lose interest and run after its pack any moment.
The wolf started toward him instead.
Dean flinched, bringing up his gun again, though for the life of him he really did not want to shoot her.
She stopped at his movement and cocked her head.
Dean lowered his gun again. "Go on, get out of here," Dean made a shooing motion with his free hand. This was fascinating and all, but he had to find Skye.
The wolf looked back at the forest where her pack had disappeared for a long moment. Then she looked back at Dean again.
Dean was ready to try backing off and see if she got the message when…
"Holy shit!"
Dean Winchester saw a lot of really crazy ass crap in his line of work, but sometimes the unexpected would still manage to surprise him. Like standing in the woods under a full moon and watching a wolf suddenly begin to turn into something else…
A person.
A woman.
Skye.
In a matter of seconds that seemed to stretch on for hours, Dean went from looking at a wolf to looking at Skye. She crouched naked in the forest, all of her human from head to toe except for her eyes.
Eyes that were golden.
Dean stared, mouth hanging open and arms limp at his sides.
Skye blinked twice, during which time her eyes returned to their familiar rich brown, then she slowly began to stand upright. "Dean…"
Dean flinched back at the sound of her voice. "What the hell…?"
Skye looked flushed, exhilarated, full of wild energy, but still her expression was distressed. "What are you doing here? You promised."
"You're a wolf."
Skye shrank back a step from his sharp voice. "Are you going to shoot me?" she asked pointedly.
Dean only then remembered the gun in his hand. He was surprised that it had not come up to train on her on reflex when she transformed. It was his natural reaction to the unnatural. He should have already shot her. And yet…
"Skye, I…."
She looked devastated as she waited for his judgment.
"Look, I… you… you really think I'd hurt you?" he asked weakly. His voice was cracking and he knew it, but damnit, he couldn't help it. Everything he'd learned since he was four told him to shoot her, but everything in his heart stayed his hand. He couldn't shoot her. He couldn't shoot Skye.
Skye looked up at his softly-spoken words, surprised first, then hopeful.
"You shouldn't be out here," she finally said, taking a testing step toward him. "The pack could come back."
Dean stared at her, rooted to the ground (as if the only alternative to retreat was to go rigid like marble). "Right… the pack."
Skye came even closer. "Come on… let's go to my place."
Dean just continued to stare at her. Naked, like the first night he'd met her. He knew now she must have been naked then because moments before she came upon him she hadn't been human.
Wasn't human.
Skye got close enough to touch him and reached out a tentative hand. She watched him like she would a wounded deer, obviously waiting for him to freak and run. Dean did stiffen at first, but he couldn't seem to even make his body run from her.
Skye's hand touched his arm, a hot patch on his skin, and after a second she was gently tugging. "You can't be out here, Dean… they could hurt you. Please."
Dean numbly began to follow her, still processing what he'd seen and learned. Skye kept looking back at him, her face full of worry. Dean remained silent and stuck his gun back in the waistband of his pants.
When she was certain he was following, Skye seemed to trip. On reflex, Dean tried to reach out and grab her, but she was on the forest floor before he could catch her. On the ground on all four paws. Dean paused uncertainly. Skye, as the wolf, glanced back over her shoulder, urging him to follow.
After a heartbeat's hesitation, Dean did.
Skye's house wasn't far. When they had mounted the porch steps, Skye retook human form and let Dean inside, turning on the living room light as she closed the door behind her.
Dean walked along the perimeter of the room, keeping an eye on Skye.
She turned to face him, her look forlorn. "Dean?"
Dean held up a hand to forestall her, though from what he didn't really know.
Skye frowned and bit her lip. She looked down at the floor, then reluctantly back up at him. "I wanted to tell you. You have no idea how much I wanted to."
"What are you?" Dean croaked.
"I'm a lycanthrope."
Dean swallowed as a cold pit formed in his stomach. "You're a werewolf?!"
Skye actually looked offended by that. "No… I'm a lycanthrope. We're entirely different."
"So the whole… this whole damn town?" Dean boggled.
Skye nodded with a barely perceptible tremble.
Dean raked his hands through his hair. "Holy crap."
"I know what you must be thinking," Skye said carefully, "but we're not dangerous."
"What about Trey?"
Skye visibly blanched.
"He's one of you, too, right? So all this time, somewhere in that mad animal is a person?"
Skye looked physically pained as she nodded. "He was one of my best friends growing up."
Dean shook his head, astounded, then reached behind him and drew out his gun. He meant to set it on the coffee table, but Skye saw him draw his weapon and cringed back a step. She was afraid. It was the only time Dean had ever seen her afraid for herself.
Dean froze when he realized what she thought he meant to do.
"Skye…"
Skye refused to meet his eyes. She stood there shaking, looking so miserable and small, and she said brokenly, "If you're going to kill me, just do it. If all you see when you look at me is a monster, then I want you to do it. But whatever you think about me, I still love you. When it's over, please… please remember that."
Dean stared at her in shock. His mouth was unaccountably dry while his hands were sweating.
She was standing there waiting to die. She expected him to kill her, be the knee-jerk no-exceptions hunter the whole town must think he was. She thought this, finding out what she was, made everything he'd felt for her all this time they'd spent together just go away.
It should. He knew it should. She was a creature and he was human.
But it didn't. Dean stood in her living room, looking at her shaking and braced for a bullet, and he realized he couldn't do it. Didn't want to. Was sick at the thought of anyone who might harm her.
She had been a lycanthrope the whole time he had known her, even if he had not known that part of her. This discovery did not change the woman he had come to know and care for. What was more, she had always known what he was, a hunter, an enemy to her kind and a threat to her very existence, but she hadn't let it stop her from falling in love with him.
Dean couldn't make himself be that low. She had seen past what he was, loved him for who he truly was, and Dean discovered that despite this shock, he felt the same about her.
Dean put the gun down on the table and slowly approached Skye.
She shied from him. When he got closer, he could hear her silently crying.
"Skye…"
Skye tensed.
Dean reached out and touched her shoulder. She jerked and tried to inch away.
Dean wouldn't let her. He moved in closer, gathered her in his arms, and turned her to face him. "Skye… look at me."
Skye did so reluctantly, eyes watery with tears and her body oddly shiny with sweat.
The tears made Dean's heart clench. "Everything I was ever taught tells me to kill you."
Skye closed her eyes in anguish.
"But everything I am doesn't give a shit what everything I was taught says I should do."
Skye's eyes flew open and she stared up at him.
Dean licked his lips. "I don't know what happens from here, but I do know that I could never hurt you."
Skye was taking deep breaths, trying to calm herself. "I… I guess I should thank you for sparing my life," she whispered, "but… I'll understand if you want to get as far away from me as possible."
Surprising even himself, Dean laughed. Skye looked at him, baffled.
"Maybe I'm completely buckets of crazy, but just the opposite. I want to get as close to you as possible."
Skye's eyes widened. "You're not afraid of me?"
He should be. And if not afraid, then bent on destroying her. He was a hunter, and she was a hunt. Plain and simple. If his father were here, he would read Dean the riot act for still speaking to her, as if she was equal to a human being. Sam would… well, Sam would be eager to learn more, to understand what she was. There were times, more lately than when they were growing up, when Dean thought maybe Sam was the one who had it right all along. Figured that it took Sam leaving for Dean to start really seeing his little brother's perspective on things.
"I don't know why I'm not," Dean answered honestly, "but no, I'm not afraid of you."
Skye's horrified/terrified expression finally began to slip. She started to look… hopeful. "I'm not human, Dean."
"And I pick my teeth with my fingernails. Nobody's perfect."
At that, Skye laughed. It sounded wonderful to Dean's ears, and Dean grinned just at the sight of her smiling again. On impulse, he pulled her in close against him and held her.
Without thought, her arms came around his neck. Then she clung to him. Dean could feel her desperation in her hold, and he let himself wrap his arms tighter around her.
The laughter died, but their desperate embrace did not.
"Can we make this work?" Skye asked in a frightened whisper without letting Dean go.
Dean huffed out a breath. "I have no idea, but I know I want to try." His father would kill him if he heard that. Sam would be proud of his big brother. Dean didn't let himself ask if it was right or wrong. He didn't care. He only knew that he wanted Skye. To hell with whether that was right or wrong. What had doing what seemed right gotten him? Sam gone, John pissed off, and Dean left to walk through the broken-glass pieces?
He was tired of trying to do the right thing. He'd learned from years of living with Sam and John that one person's right was another person's wrong. There was no way to win. Skye wasn't asking him to pick right over wrong, wrong over right, she was just asking him to pick her, and screw which category that fell under.
It was just what Dean wanted and needed.
"So, I guess this was your big secret?" Dean asked.
Skye chuckled and let him go to lean back and look at him. Her smile became an unexpected grimace of pain.
"What is it?" Dean asked in concern.
Skye winced and her fingers gripped his arms tightly. "It's the first night of the full moon… I can't hold human shape much longer." She looked up warily at Dean, as if afraid his vows and words had been just that… words. That he would flip out when the reality of her wolf was brought back into the conversation.
Dean did blink a second, then frowned. "If it hurts, then stop."
Skye nodded stiltedly. "I only got to where I could do it for short periods because Jeremy, Trey, and I, growing up… it was a stupid contest between us…" Skye's body spasmed painfully.
Dean took her face in his hands. "I'm not going anywhere… do your thing. We'll talk later."
Skye looked up at him, her brown eyes bright with pain, and she nodded quickly. She kissed his briefly, then backed up and knelt down. In a handful of seconds, Dean was looking at her as the wolf again.
Dean gaped a moment, then cleared his throat. Time to learn to really deal with a lycanthrope girlfriend. "Ah… you want me to open the door for you?"
Skye moved quickly to his side and gently took the sleeve of his jacket in her teeth and tugged. Not toward the front door. Toward the bedroom.
Dean chuckled when he caught on and followed without a fight. "Now, look, I'll try anything once, but this crosses a line, don't you think?"
Skye dropped his sleeve and snorted disdainfully. She jumped on the bed, lay down primly, then watched him expectantly.
He got her meaning. They'd stay there, together, until morning when they could talk. Really talk.
Dean nodded and stripped off his clothes down to his undershirt and boxer briefs. He crawled under the covers, shifted to get comfortable, then turned on his side and came face to face with a wolf. His heart gave an involuntary jump of instinctive panic, but he didn't recoil. He looked close enough and he recognized her again, as he had in the forest, past the wolf.
Dean studied her closely. "I have about a thousand questions," he whispered.
Skye shifted closer and laid her head on the pillow next to his as she gazed into his eyes. Before he could think about it, Dean smiled. "Yeah, yeah… morning."
Humor glinted in Skye's eyes.
Dean wondered if she'd mind if he petted her, then decided he should ask before he tried. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest to keep his hands to himself, and doubted he'd get any sleep before dawn broke.
He lay there watching Skye, and he could hear his father's voice ringing in his head. 'What the hell do you think you're doing, Dean? You should kill her. She's a thing. I thought I raised you to be smarter than that. I don't care how you think you feel about her, you have a job to do. You're a hunter, and she's not human.'
And the response Dean imagined for his father's tirade sounded so very much like Sam that it made Dean smile to himself, bittersweet.
'I don't care.'
END
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A/N: I totally did not mean for this to happen, but not long after finishing this fic I watched "Heart" again, and when Dean was crying about Sam having to shoot Madison, I realized I'll never look at that scene the same way again :)
Spoilers: set in the Skyeverse (surrounding my fic "Wild by Skye")
Summary: Dean finally learns the truth about Skye.
Timeline: Go here 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 :(
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Dean couldn't count the times he pulled out his cell phone and just sat there with his thumb hovering over the keypad.
His first impulse was always to call Sam. Dean was used to being out of touch with his father; John left on hunts and came back days later, sometimes bloody and battered, but okay. John could take care of himself, so Dean didn't worry too much about him. But Sam… Dean couldn't shake the mantel of protector of his little brother. He didn't trust that Sam was okay when he was so far out of Dean's sphere.
Dean caved twice since Sam left, actually dialed his brother's number. Sam didn't answer. Dean took the painful hint and stopped calling. He tried to take some comfort in the fact that Sam might have cut and run, but he didn't change his number. He must not mean for the separation to be forever if he left that means of contact open. That's what Dean told himself to not really freak out, anyway.
John and Dean talked infrequently, but always about their hunts. Never about it, the family blown apart and the bits and pieces lying scattered around every word between them. The phone conversations between Dean and John were more of a 'I've heard your voice and know you're alive' fair than actual communication. It was reassuring, but did nothing to heal the gaping wound.
For the innumerable time, Dean sat in the Impala and stared at his phone. He ached to connect with someone… Dean, at his core, was not a loner.
He longed to hear Sam's voice.
He steeled himself to endure a stilted and avoidant conversation with his father.
In the end, he called neither.
Instead, his thumb put in a number recently learned and memorized. He liked the motion and chain of events that would follow. Dial a number, get a person, connect, and just like that stop being alone. It might not be family, but it was nice to have someone to call who would answer and then actually have things to say. Someone who actually wanted to talk to him. Someone who cared about Dean Winchester.
The voice that answered was familiar and yet still so new. "Hey."
Dean smiled a little. "Hey, Skye… so I was thinking about something else we might try to catch Trey." Skye's help trying to catch Trey filled a need Dean had to discuss a hunt with someone else, someone involved, his partner in the mission. Not John or Sam, but someone who worked alongside him, had his back, someone to watch after, the way Dean was wired to behave. In Dean's twisted world, it felt normal.
There was a silence on the other end of the phone, two seconds too long, and Dean frowned. Skye was always game for brainstorming about catching that damn wolf. She was frighteningly determined and focused on that one goal. Dean saw in it a bit of his father's one-track vendetta against the thing that killed Mary; Skye was that intent on catching and 'saving' that mad animal.
"Skye?"
"Yeah. Ah, listen, Dean… let's take a break for a night, okay?"
Dean was instantly on alert. Skye 'taking a break' from finding the wolf she called Trey was like Sam saying 'let's hit the road, Dad, we've lived here too long,' or John telling his sons 'go outside and play, boys, being kids is more important than hunting'. It set off all of Dean's alarms.
"Take a break?" he parroted incredulously.
"Yes. I've got this… family thing that's come up. We can pick back up tracking Trey tomorrow."
"What kind of 'family thing'?"
There was another uncomfortable pause. "I can't really go into it."
Dean frowned, his free hand wrapping tighter around the steering wheel. Dean knew that tone… there was only one thing Skye was ever cagey about, and it was that damn town secret she protected like her life depended on it. Even from him.
Dean tried to be understanding, but he was gun-shy on the matter of secrets. Sam told no one he was applying to college until he had a full ride to Stanford to propel him out the door.
"Look… I thought catching Trey was your top priority."
"It is."
"Well, then surely your family can deal with this 'family thing' without you - which apparently will only be an issue for one night - while we look for Trey."
"I'm sorry, Dean. I can't back out of this… thing…"
"Skye…"
"It's just one night. I promise. Then we can pick up looking for Trey in the morning."
Dean sat stolidly behind the wheel with the phone pressed to his ear, his face a mix between a scowl and a pout. In the back of his mind, Dean was balking at the realization he was being ditched. Skye was leaving.
Okay, only for one night, but Dean was not in a place where he wanted to be left for any length of time. Not for a night, not for the duration of a college degree…
"Can I help?" he finally asked.
That seemed to startle Skye. "You want to help?"
"Sure." He suddenly felt decidedly awkward. It was that special brand of awkward Skye could bring out in him, where he was more like Sam dealing with the opposite sex than his regular, suave Dean Winchester self.
There was a soft sound of air in his ear through the phone, and he knew it was the sound of Skye giving in and smiling. "Dean…" Now the smile was in her voice.
One corner of Dean's mouth began to curl upward. "Yeah?"
He could almost see her shaking her head, running her fingers absently through her hair, looking around to see if anyone nearby noticed the soft blush touching her cheeks.
Dean readjusted his position in his seat and cleared his throat.
Finally, Skye said, "I appreciate the offer, but this isn't something you can really help with." Her voice was cautious again, full of that 'secret' that kept her distant from him.
Dean was feeling uneasy about this whole 'family thing'. The hairs on the back of his neck were rising, a warning sign he always heeded on the hunt, because Dean's gut was smarter than Dean's brain a lot of the time. "Are you in trouble?"
"What? No… no, it's nothing like that. Just… family stuff. You know how it is."
Dean swallowed convulsively. Skye knew nothing about his family, the shattered remnants of the Winchesters, anyway. "Yeah… family… what're ya gonna do, right?"
Skye's voice was full of warmth again. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine. I'll meet up with you tomorrow, okay, Dean?"
Dean forced his disquiet to the background. "Yeah, sure."
"Okay… and Dean?"
Skye's tone changed from comforting and calm to laced with intensity and it made Dean freeze. "Yes?"
"There is something I need you to do for me."
"Name it."
"I want you to leave town… just for tonight."
Dean was back to full alert. "Why?"
"I… I can't tell you, but it's important. Please, Dean… I'm asking you, just… stay gone until morning."
Dean frowned. "Skye, what is going on?"
"I need you to trust me on this."
Dean fidgeted uncomfortably. It went against all his instincts to walk away, especially when his gut told him something strange was going on, but Skye was making a request on the basis of his faith in her. He might not be much of a guy for relationships, but he knew his reaction to that request would have far-reaching consequences if he didn't agree. The problem was that he did trust Skye, but asking him to leave on the eve of whatever was going down…
"Dean?"
"Yeah."
"Promise me you'll steer clear of Eclipse River until tomorrow?"
It felt wrong down to his bones, but what else did he have outside of Skye? A father he couldn't look at without wanting to scream, a brother who wouldn't answer his calls…
"Okay, sure."
Skye sighed in audible relief. "Thank you, Dean."
"Uh huh," Dean grumbled, discomfited by the whole idea. "So… call you tomorrow?"
"I'll call you," she said, and Dean liked the way that settled in his chest. He could expect a call now. That was a warm and satisfying feeling. Someone wanting him, reaching out to contact him. He wasn't alone because he would be waiting for Skye to call him.
"Well, be careful," Dean said, "and I'll see you tomorrow."
"All right, see you tomorrow… bye, Dean."
******************
The problem was that Dean was virtually incapable of blindly obeying any order if it didn't come from John Winchester. That was the 'you should have known better' anthem repeating in his head as he walked down the dark streets of Eclipse River, Oregon.
He hadn't known what to expect, given Skye's explicit request that he stay away from town, but what he found was a ghost town. If he hadn't seen Eclipse River in the daytime, full of townsfolk and life, he would think he'd wandered across an abandoned town.
Dean walked the streets, baffled by the sheer silence. It wasn't just the businesses on Main Street that were quiet as a tomb. That was to be expected given the hour. But when Dean wandered toward the residential part of town, he found that just as empty and dark. No lights coming from the windows, no chatter of late-night visitors still lingering on porches, no dogs barking (that was another weird thing about Eclipse River - no one had pets. Dean had not seen a single dog or cat since he got to town).
He passed the home of the Lauchlans, Skye's parents, and found the home like all the others. Dark as if dead. Feeling a knot of dread in his stomach, Dean began to walk/jog across town to Skye's house. The entire way, his hunter instincts were screaming at him 'not right, not right, not right, this is not right!'
He'd known for days something wasn't right, but he kept letting Skye dismiss his insistence on learning what was wrong with the town. Now he was ready to kick the shit out of himself for that. Skye might be hurt somewhere, and all because he hadn't pushed harder to learn the truth.
He'd failed Skye, like he failed Sam. Couldn't make the family enough for Sam, couldn't keep the family together. Couldn't keep Skye safe.
Dean reached Skye's small house and felt like groaning when he found it just as lifeless as all the others.
Starting to feel desperate, Dean took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Skye's number on the remote chance she'd answer.
She didn't.
"Shit!" Dean hissed as he put his phone back in his pocket and turned, wondering where to go from there.
He spun around sharply and peered into the dark woods behind Skye's house when a wolf howled, somewhere not far away.
Dean's jaw set. He thought of that hiker he'd saved the night he met Skye, and he thought of Skye, who liked to spend so much time in the woods, heedless of the dangerous wolf on the loose.
Dean took off into the forest on impulse, suddenly certain Skye was in there and that she was in danger from that wild animal she called Trey.
He had to find her.
He had to save her.
The full moon made his movement through the forest easier. Trees and bushes had their outlines painted pale silver, and that was all that kept Dean from running smack into a trunk on several occasions. He knew these woods better now, after days in them with Skye (who obviously knew them like the back of her hand). He had an idea where to go. He would try the old riverbed first. She always went back there, convinced Trey might one day show up.
"Skye!" he called out loudly as he ran as fast as he dared in the dark. He drew his gun from his pants and ran with it in hand, ready to use it against that crazy ass wolf if he saw it, to hell if whether or not Skye would object. If she was in danger, she lost her say in the matter.
"Skye!!"
Dean had almost reached the riverbed when a noise drew him up short and he stopped, turning to try and pinpoint the source of the sound. It was a rustling of leaves, the snapping of a twig.
Something was coming.
Dean's eyes frantically searched the darkness, straining to pick out shapes. His heart was still pounding in his chest, his breath loud in his ears, but he commanded his body to be quiet and let him listen.
Then he saw a flash of fleeting painted silver on gray as a wolf dashed past between two shadowed trees.
Dean jerked the gun up, trying to follow the animal's path…
When another one followed the first. Then another. Then another. Dean stood, dumbfounded, as a veritable sea of wolves poured out of the blackness and raced across the forest right in front of him. They were like ghosts in the night, elusive figures that came into existence to vanish just as quickly. Their sound, their paws on the earth and their panting breathing, lasted longer than the sight of them.
And there seemed no end to them. Wolves, wolves… so many he couldn't begin to count. Where had they all come from? Dean and Skye had been in the woods a hell of a lot, and they hadn't seen one (not even that damned Trey they were hunting). This was a whole damn wolf pack.
Dean was watching them race past like a gray pelt river, struck by the sight of them all, when one broke from the flow. It bounded through brush, over fallen limbs, and came right toward him.
On reflex, Dean lifted his weapon and trained it on the animal. She came within ten feet of him and stopped, tongue lolling and golden eyes fixed on him. Dean couldn't explain why he pegged her as a female, but his gut was adamant on the point. Not that it mattered beyond one simple fact… this thing couldn't be Trey.
But that didn't mean she wasn't dangerous.
Dean adjusted his grip on his gun, prepared to fire if she came any closer. He didn't want to shoot until he had no choice. He only had fifteen rounds in his clip, and there were way more than fifteen wolves in the forest with him. Normally, he would expect the others would bolt if he fired his gun, but Trey hadn't been scared by a gun. If anything, sight of a firearm pissed him off. Dean wasn't going to ignore the possibility that that was the behavior of most wolves in this particular chunk of forest.
The wolf stood staring at him, but she didn't come closer. She was watching him closely, stared into his eyes, and Dean…
He blinked and shook his head. It was crazy, but damn if he didn't think for half a second he knew her somehow. He put it down to the moonlight playing tricks on him.
Before either of them could make a move, another wolf left the running pack and leapt into the standoff between man and animal.
This one made Dean's hair stand on end. The second wolf came not as an onlooker, but as an attacker. His head was low, ears back, and the wolf's lips pulled back to bear sharp teeth.
Dean shifted the aim of his gun.
Before he could fire, the female wolf snarled and snapped. Not at Dean, but at the other wolf. Before Dean's eyes (which were growing wider by the second), the female wolf rushed to put herself between the aggressive newcomer and Dean.
For a tense moment, the two wolves stared at one another.
The male wolf licked its gleaming white teeth, hackles making it look prickly to the touch, then it sneezed as if in disgust and turned away. With a flick of its tail, it rejoined the pack and left Dean and his wolf defender alone.
Dean lowered his gun and returned his attention to the wolf before him. She had turned to face him and was watching him intently again.
"Uh… I know you don't understand me or anything, but… I'm just looking for someone. When you and your friends leave, I'll go about my business. I'm not after wolves tonight, so, yeah, no reason to call back all your friends and turn my ass into dinner, all right?"
The wolf shifted uneasily, turned back her ears, and whined. She looked back at the last of the fleeing pack then back to Dean.
Dean fully expected the animal to lose interest and run after its pack any moment.
The wolf started toward him instead.
Dean flinched, bringing up his gun again, though for the life of him he really did not want to shoot her.
She stopped at his movement and cocked her head.
Dean lowered his gun again. "Go on, get out of here," Dean made a shooing motion with his free hand. This was fascinating and all, but he had to find Skye.
The wolf looked back at the forest where her pack had disappeared for a long moment. Then she looked back at Dean again.
Dean was ready to try backing off and see if she got the message when…
"Holy shit!"
Dean Winchester saw a lot of really crazy ass crap in his line of work, but sometimes the unexpected would still manage to surprise him. Like standing in the woods under a full moon and watching a wolf suddenly begin to turn into something else…
A person.
A woman.
Skye.
In a matter of seconds that seemed to stretch on for hours, Dean went from looking at a wolf to looking at Skye. She crouched naked in the forest, all of her human from head to toe except for her eyes.
Eyes that were golden.
Dean stared, mouth hanging open and arms limp at his sides.
Skye blinked twice, during which time her eyes returned to their familiar rich brown, then she slowly began to stand upright. "Dean…"
Dean flinched back at the sound of her voice. "What the hell…?"
Skye looked flushed, exhilarated, full of wild energy, but still her expression was distressed. "What are you doing here? You promised."
"You're a wolf."
Skye shrank back a step from his sharp voice. "Are you going to shoot me?" she asked pointedly.
Dean only then remembered the gun in his hand. He was surprised that it had not come up to train on her on reflex when she transformed. It was his natural reaction to the unnatural. He should have already shot her. And yet…
"Skye, I…."
She looked devastated as she waited for his judgment.
"Look, I… you… you really think I'd hurt you?" he asked weakly. His voice was cracking and he knew it, but damnit, he couldn't help it. Everything he'd learned since he was four told him to shoot her, but everything in his heart stayed his hand. He couldn't shoot her. He couldn't shoot Skye.
Skye looked up at his softly-spoken words, surprised first, then hopeful.
"You shouldn't be out here," she finally said, taking a testing step toward him. "The pack could come back."
Dean stared at her, rooted to the ground (as if the only alternative to retreat was to go rigid like marble). "Right… the pack."
Skye came even closer. "Come on… let's go to my place."
Dean just continued to stare at her. Naked, like the first night he'd met her. He knew now she must have been naked then because moments before she came upon him she hadn't been human.
Wasn't human.
Skye got close enough to touch him and reached out a tentative hand. She watched him like she would a wounded deer, obviously waiting for him to freak and run. Dean did stiffen at first, but he couldn't seem to even make his body run from her.
Skye's hand touched his arm, a hot patch on his skin, and after a second she was gently tugging. "You can't be out here, Dean… they could hurt you. Please."
Dean numbly began to follow her, still processing what he'd seen and learned. Skye kept looking back at him, her face full of worry. Dean remained silent and stuck his gun back in the waistband of his pants.
When she was certain he was following, Skye seemed to trip. On reflex, Dean tried to reach out and grab her, but she was on the forest floor before he could catch her. On the ground on all four paws. Dean paused uncertainly. Skye, as the wolf, glanced back over her shoulder, urging him to follow.
After a heartbeat's hesitation, Dean did.
Skye's house wasn't far. When they had mounted the porch steps, Skye retook human form and let Dean inside, turning on the living room light as she closed the door behind her.
Dean walked along the perimeter of the room, keeping an eye on Skye.
She turned to face him, her look forlorn. "Dean?"
Dean held up a hand to forestall her, though from what he didn't really know.
Skye frowned and bit her lip. She looked down at the floor, then reluctantly back up at him. "I wanted to tell you. You have no idea how much I wanted to."
"What are you?" Dean croaked.
"I'm a lycanthrope."
Dean swallowed as a cold pit formed in his stomach. "You're a werewolf?!"
Skye actually looked offended by that. "No… I'm a lycanthrope. We're entirely different."
"So the whole… this whole damn town?" Dean boggled.
Skye nodded with a barely perceptible tremble.
Dean raked his hands through his hair. "Holy crap."
"I know what you must be thinking," Skye said carefully, "but we're not dangerous."
"What about Trey?"
Skye visibly blanched.
"He's one of you, too, right? So all this time, somewhere in that mad animal is a person?"
Skye looked physically pained as she nodded. "He was one of my best friends growing up."
Dean shook his head, astounded, then reached behind him and drew out his gun. He meant to set it on the coffee table, but Skye saw him draw his weapon and cringed back a step. She was afraid. It was the only time Dean had ever seen her afraid for herself.
Dean froze when he realized what she thought he meant to do.
"Skye…"
Skye refused to meet his eyes. She stood there shaking, looking so miserable and small, and she said brokenly, "If you're going to kill me, just do it. If all you see when you look at me is a monster, then I want you to do it. But whatever you think about me, I still love you. When it's over, please… please remember that."
Dean stared at her in shock. His mouth was unaccountably dry while his hands were sweating.
She was standing there waiting to die. She expected him to kill her, be the knee-jerk no-exceptions hunter the whole town must think he was. She thought this, finding out what she was, made everything he'd felt for her all this time they'd spent together just go away.
It should. He knew it should. She was a creature and he was human.
But it didn't. Dean stood in her living room, looking at her shaking and braced for a bullet, and he realized he couldn't do it. Didn't want to. Was sick at the thought of anyone who might harm her.
She had been a lycanthrope the whole time he had known her, even if he had not known that part of her. This discovery did not change the woman he had come to know and care for. What was more, she had always known what he was, a hunter, an enemy to her kind and a threat to her very existence, but she hadn't let it stop her from falling in love with him.
Dean couldn't make himself be that low. She had seen past what he was, loved him for who he truly was, and Dean discovered that despite this shock, he felt the same about her.
Dean put the gun down on the table and slowly approached Skye.
She shied from him. When he got closer, he could hear her silently crying.
"Skye…"
Skye tensed.
Dean reached out and touched her shoulder. She jerked and tried to inch away.
Dean wouldn't let her. He moved in closer, gathered her in his arms, and turned her to face him. "Skye… look at me."
Skye did so reluctantly, eyes watery with tears and her body oddly shiny with sweat.
The tears made Dean's heart clench. "Everything I was ever taught tells me to kill you."
Skye closed her eyes in anguish.
"But everything I am doesn't give a shit what everything I was taught says I should do."
Skye's eyes flew open and she stared up at him.
Dean licked his lips. "I don't know what happens from here, but I do know that I could never hurt you."
Skye was taking deep breaths, trying to calm herself. "I… I guess I should thank you for sparing my life," she whispered, "but… I'll understand if you want to get as far away from me as possible."
Surprising even himself, Dean laughed. Skye looked at him, baffled.
"Maybe I'm completely buckets of crazy, but just the opposite. I want to get as close to you as possible."
Skye's eyes widened. "You're not afraid of me?"
He should be. And if not afraid, then bent on destroying her. He was a hunter, and she was a hunt. Plain and simple. If his father were here, he would read Dean the riot act for still speaking to her, as if she was equal to a human being. Sam would… well, Sam would be eager to learn more, to understand what she was. There were times, more lately than when they were growing up, when Dean thought maybe Sam was the one who had it right all along. Figured that it took Sam leaving for Dean to start really seeing his little brother's perspective on things.
"I don't know why I'm not," Dean answered honestly, "but no, I'm not afraid of you."
Skye's horrified/terrified expression finally began to slip. She started to look… hopeful. "I'm not human, Dean."
"And I pick my teeth with my fingernails. Nobody's perfect."
At that, Skye laughed. It sounded wonderful to Dean's ears, and Dean grinned just at the sight of her smiling again. On impulse, he pulled her in close against him and held her.
Without thought, her arms came around his neck. Then she clung to him. Dean could feel her desperation in her hold, and he let himself wrap his arms tighter around her.
The laughter died, but their desperate embrace did not.
"Can we make this work?" Skye asked in a frightened whisper without letting Dean go.
Dean huffed out a breath. "I have no idea, but I know I want to try." His father would kill him if he heard that. Sam would be proud of his big brother. Dean didn't let himself ask if it was right or wrong. He didn't care. He only knew that he wanted Skye. To hell with whether that was right or wrong. What had doing what seemed right gotten him? Sam gone, John pissed off, and Dean left to walk through the broken-glass pieces?
He was tired of trying to do the right thing. He'd learned from years of living with Sam and John that one person's right was another person's wrong. There was no way to win. Skye wasn't asking him to pick right over wrong, wrong over right, she was just asking him to pick her, and screw which category that fell under.
It was just what Dean wanted and needed.
"So, I guess this was your big secret?" Dean asked.
Skye chuckled and let him go to lean back and look at him. Her smile became an unexpected grimace of pain.
"What is it?" Dean asked in concern.
Skye winced and her fingers gripped his arms tightly. "It's the first night of the full moon… I can't hold human shape much longer." She looked up warily at Dean, as if afraid his vows and words had been just that… words. That he would flip out when the reality of her wolf was brought back into the conversation.
Dean did blink a second, then frowned. "If it hurts, then stop."
Skye nodded stiltedly. "I only got to where I could do it for short periods because Jeremy, Trey, and I, growing up… it was a stupid contest between us…" Skye's body spasmed painfully.
Dean took her face in his hands. "I'm not going anywhere… do your thing. We'll talk later."
Skye looked up at him, her brown eyes bright with pain, and she nodded quickly. She kissed his briefly, then backed up and knelt down. In a handful of seconds, Dean was looking at her as the wolf again.
Dean gaped a moment, then cleared his throat. Time to learn to really deal with a lycanthrope girlfriend. "Ah… you want me to open the door for you?"
Skye moved quickly to his side and gently took the sleeve of his jacket in her teeth and tugged. Not toward the front door. Toward the bedroom.
Dean chuckled when he caught on and followed without a fight. "Now, look, I'll try anything once, but this crosses a line, don't you think?"
Skye dropped his sleeve and snorted disdainfully. She jumped on the bed, lay down primly, then watched him expectantly.
He got her meaning. They'd stay there, together, until morning when they could talk. Really talk.
Dean nodded and stripped off his clothes down to his undershirt and boxer briefs. He crawled under the covers, shifted to get comfortable, then turned on his side and came face to face with a wolf. His heart gave an involuntary jump of instinctive panic, but he didn't recoil. He looked close enough and he recognized her again, as he had in the forest, past the wolf.
Dean studied her closely. "I have about a thousand questions," he whispered.
Skye shifted closer and laid her head on the pillow next to his as she gazed into his eyes. Before he could think about it, Dean smiled. "Yeah, yeah… morning."
Humor glinted in Skye's eyes.
Dean wondered if she'd mind if he petted her, then decided he should ask before he tried. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest to keep his hands to himself, and doubted he'd get any sleep before dawn broke.
He lay there watching Skye, and he could hear his father's voice ringing in his head. 'What the hell do you think you're doing, Dean? You should kill her. She's a thing. I thought I raised you to be smarter than that. I don't care how you think you feel about her, you have a job to do. You're a hunter, and she's not human.'
And the response Dean imagined for his father's tirade sounded so very much like Sam that it made Dean smile to himself, bittersweet.
'I don't care.'
END
**************
A/N: I totally did not mean for this to happen, but not long after finishing this fic I watched "Heart" again, and when Dean was crying about Sam having to shoot Madison, I realized I'll never look at that scene the same way again :)