Chapter Text
July 1992 in Lawrence, Kansas - Past
It was a hot day during the peak of summer. The sky was cast in a brilliant blue. Only a handful of clouds disrupted the even picture. The sun was sending waves of bright light down to earth. If it hadn’t been for the shadows of trees and buildings lining the vicinity, one couldn’t have left the house. The light breeze blowing across the land made being outside bearable.
The grain tendrils growing mere feet away trembled and rustled as the wind weaved its way through them. Their dry smell drifted toward him and Dean sighed. The verdant grass surrounding them stood high and tickled their naked legs despite the picnic blanket laid out beneath them. The hum of bees, flies and mosquitoes passing by was loud, but pleasant. The radio played a familiar melody by the porch where Mary and John sat and chatted.
The cherry blossom tree that they were lying beneath threw protective shadows on them. Dean was still surprised that this beautiful plant had survived here. He could recall the day his parents came back from their trip to Japan with that small and sick sapling in tow. Dean had been very young. He couldn’t imagine how such a tiny plant could emerge into a huge tree like the ones he had seen in the forest. He thought it impossible.
But now, almost twenty years later, the tree was standing tall and proud. The pink cherry blossoms decorating the crown were vibrant in color and scent. The bee population around the cottage had remarkably grown since they planted the tree. Dean’s eyes slid back to the estate running ahead of them. He saw Mirabelle, the gorgeous horse that was gifted to Mary when she took on the cottage.
Beside Mirabelle stood Lila, a kind cow that had built a friendship with the white coated mare. They went everywhere together and even shared a stable. In the distance, the sheep were bleating loudly and the chicken cackled in tune. Occasionally, the cry of a bird was heard and the rustling of wild animals in the forest surrounding the cottage.
Dean listened to Mary laugh, a sharp, happy sound that made him grin too. The hollow, scratchy noise of John’s laughter followed before the couple continued to talk. Dean felt at ease as his gaze swept across the land that used to be his home too. But the person sitting beside him, squeaking delighted for unknown reasons, was the center of his attention.
Dean turned slightly and looked down at Sam who had called out his name. His heart bloomed with warmth as he saw the huge grin on his nephew’s face, tiny dimples poking out of his cheeks. “Dean, look! You have to look!” Sam said excitedly as he pointed down to the ground. Dean struggled to tear his eyes off the face that he loved more than anything else in the world.
His gaze traced the line of Sam’s finger and he laughed softly when he discovered the black ants crawling across the small toes that impeded their marsh. Having heard the gleeful noise, Sam’s head snapped up, big hazel eyes pierced with amazement. Dean leaned forward to brush a kiss onto Sam’s temple, the skin warm and smooth against his chapped lips. He inhaled Sam’s unique scent deeply. Honey and strawberries with something rough like the smell of wet sand. It smelt like home.
“Doesn’t that tickle?” Dean murmured against Sam’s temple as he looked at his twitching toes. He felt Sam shrug where he was pressed to his flank. They had been inseparable since Sam was born. The need to be close and to touch was carved into their bones. It has become part of who they are.
They watched silently as the last ant in line hurried past Sam’s toes and then the troop was gone in the grass, probably in search of something to eat. Dean let himself rest back on his elbows and flexed his feet. The skin on his bare legs was starting to feel tight from too much sun and his shorts were glued to his thighs in a sweaty mess. His tank top was in a similar state.
The fabric was clinging to Dean’s chest and belly like a second skin whereas Sam seemed perfectly fine in his cropped shorts, shirt, and the silly little hat that made him look adorable. “What were we talking about again?” Dean inquired innocently to pick up their previous conversation. He knew very well what they had been talking about, but he wanted to see Sam’s cheerful expression again. Sam’s lips parted as he grinned. He crawled into Dean’s lap and scooted close as words fell from his mouth. Sam could talk quite coherently despite his tender age of four.
“We built a tent in kindergarten today! It was so cool! We collected big sticks and pushed them into the ground. Then we put the tops together like this,” Sam touched the tips of his fingers together in a triangle, “and bound them with a thick cord. We left a small space between a few sticks as the entrance and used old bed sheets as the tent fabric. Then we crawled into the tent and played!”
Dean watched Sam gesticulate wildly and couldn’t help but smile. It was heartwarming to see how agitated Sam was talking about this. It made Dean’s stomach flutter with something he didn’t want to look at closely. “That’s great, Sammy! It sounds like fun. Do you think we could build a tent here as well?” Dean offered, knowing that his nephew would immediately be on board with the idea.
Sam’s eyes widened and he nodded hard enough that Dean was afraid he would pull a nerve in his neck. He chuckled softly and nodded too, but didn’t make a move to stand up as a wicked thought came his way. “We will do that in a minute. There is something else I have in mind for now.” Dean drawled mysteriously and Sam opened his mouth to ask what he meant. It became obvious as Dean slowly lifted his hands, fingers crooked and a smirk stuck to his lush lips.
“No!” Sam yelled in shock and struggled to jump up. Dean laughed and followed him swiftly. Sam managed to get two steps away before strong hands gripped his waist and spun him around. He squealed as he was hauled beneath a large body. Sam screamed again when he felt fingers poking at his tummy and waist. “No, De! I’m ticklish!” Sam yelped before bursting into a fit of giggles.
Dean laughed as his fingers rushed across Sam’s now exposed belly and lightly pinched his sensitive flesh. “What? I didn’t understand that, baby boy! You have to speak louder!” Dean taunted with a wide grin as Sam hiccuped. His eyes were watering already. “De, stop, please!” Sam barked as his melodic laugh rang along the cottage.
He was twisting and writhing beneath Dean’s hands. “I still couldn’t hear you, Sammy!” Dean teased as he bent down to press his lips against Sam’s belly and snort against his flesh. Sam screeched and his legs flew into the air as his skin trembled below Dean’s lips, making funny noises. “No, stop, Dean! I’m going to pee! I’m going to pee!” Sam gushed between ragged inhales, knowing it would lead him to freedom.
Just like expected, Dean stopped the tickle attack and sat up. Sam immediately used the chance. He jolted forward and tackled his uncle into the ground, his only advantage the moment of surprise. Dean fell back with a grunt and found himself buried beneath Sam’s lightweight.
“You play dirty.” Dean retorted falsely offended as he pouted. Sam shrugged with his head held high in victory and then put his tiny, still pudgy hands on Dean’s freshly shaved cheeks. “I learned that from you.” Sam chided with a teasing glint to his eyes and a broad grin. Dean growled playfully and twisted his head to the side to nip on Sam’s fingers which made him laugh again.
Suddenly, Sam’s jaw dropped open as he yawned. He rubbed his eyes as his body swayed back and forth. Dean stopped nibbling on Sam’s fingers and pressed a kiss to the skin before he pulled away. “Are you tired, Sammy?” Dean asked fondly in that deep voice he often used to lull his nephew to sleep. Sam hummed in reply and stretched as fatigued started to weigh him down.
“Do you want me to bring you to bed?” Dean added as he slung his large palms around Sam’s waist to hold him steady. “No. I want to stay here with you.” Sam slurred and flopped forward without warning. Dean huffed as Sam collided with his chest. Once the surprise had passed, he wound his arms around Sam’s back and held him close. “You want to stay out here and nap in the sun?” Dean questioned just to be sure and received a confirmation nod.
He smiled lovingly as Sam curled his hands into the white tank top he was wearing and he buried his face in the space where Dean’s neck and shoulder met. “Okay, sweetheart. Sleep well then.” He whispered against the top of Sam’s head. He purred softly as he nuzzled Sam and inhaled his scent. Dean grabbed Sam’s hat and positioned it differently to make sure that his scalp and neck didn’t get sunburned. He relaxed into the ground and sighed contently.
The proximity increased the already hardly bearable heat, but Sam seemed unbothered by it and Dean didn’t want to let go of him. Sam’s nose and mouth were brushing against his neck and Dean couldn’t stop the tremors that ran through his body as his nerves registered the sensation. Sam’s slowing breath was puffing against his skin, dampening it.
Dean felt Sam’s chest move with each inhale and exhale. It was calming. His nostrils flared as his nephew’s scent enveloped him and he listened to the steady drum of Sam’s heartbeat right above his own. It worked like a lullaby Dean wasn’t aware he had missed his entire life until Sam came along. His eyes grew heavy. It was as if Sam had infected him with fatigue.
Dean’s jaw cracked as he yawned and his eyelids fluttered closed. He tried to force his eyes open again, but it was futile. Dean gave up and surrendered to the sudden sleepiness. He buried his nose in Sam’s hair and relished in the love and comfort he felt when he was with his nephew. He shuffled around until he was comfortable and grunted satisfied. Dean was asleep before he knew it.
Dean couldn’t say what woke him. One second, he was sleeping deeply and the next, he was ripped into consciousness. Staring straight ahead, Dean looked into a sea of green. He squinted at the blurred sight and made an irritated sound in the back of his throat. He blinked repeatedly and his vision cleared up. He was able to make out the grass surrounding him. Dean remembered that he had fallen asleep outside with Sam. He must have turned around as he slept.
He wondered where Sam had been left at. Dean’s physical sense of awareness returned as the thought crossed his mind and he felt the pressure of two lanky arms wrapped around his neck. Looking down, Dean found Sam clinging to him like a baby monkey holding onto its parent. He began to worry when he noticed that their sleepy tossing had made Sam lose his hat, but the sun had taken a different route and wasn’t glaring at them anymore.
They were still within the safety of the tree’s shadow. It was unlikely that Sam had caught a sunstroke, to Dean’s relief. Still, he groped around them until his hand sized the discarded hat and he put it back on top of his nephew’s head. Sam grumbled happily at the mere touch and inched forward, their bodies now flush. Dean chuckled and trailed his palm down Sam’s back to rub the span of exposed skin where his shirt had ridden up.
Sam arched into the caress like a cat and purred. Dean grinned and kept petting him as his gaze roved along their surroundings, the mysterious reason for his awakening forgotten. Mary was still sitting on the porch, her white dress fluttering in the breeze. Her legs were propped up on the chair where John had sat and she was holding a book. She seemed lost in the story as her eyes jumped from line to line.
Straining his ears, Dean listened to John stray around the kitchen. It sounded as if he was cleaning the dishes. Mary had probably ordered him to do it and John, always the obedient husband, had followed her command. Dean smiled to himself and shrugged it. He was well aware of Mary’s dominant strike, but she deserved a break too considering that she was taking care of Sam, the cottage, and the household by herself.
Dean helped Mary as much as could. He usually came by after work to help feed the animals, cook dinner, and watch Sam while Mary took a few minutes for herself. John didn’t like Dean’s constant presence. They had never gone along well. But Dean couldn’t care less about his opinion. His mission was to help Mary, the only person in their family that he hadn’t lost.
And he longed to spend time with his nephew. Dean’s eyes moved on to the field embracing the cottage. Mirabelle and Lila had been shooed away to make room for the sheep that were just as hungry for fresh grass. Dean couldn’t tell what time it was. He wasn’t wearing a watch and he didn’t want to ask Mary and risk waking Sam up.
Dean estimated from the stand of the sun that it was early afternoon. They had slept a few hours long and missed lunch, but there were leftovers waiting to be heated up. Dean sighed satisfied as he settled back on the thick picnic blanket. His palms were damp with both his own and Sam’s sweat.
He wiped them dry on his shorts before continuing to caress his nephew. The temperature had sunken a notch, although it barely made a difference. Dean would have to peel Sam off his chest later. They were glued together. His tank top was drenched with sweat and he wished they had a pool he could jump into. The best he could hope for was a cold shower.
The breeze blowing across the land felt like someone had opened the oven and released the hot air. It wasn’t refreshing and only made him sweat more. Dean glanced down the length of his body as Sam began moving. He drew his legs up and Dean’s eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen. There was no way of stopping it. He couldn’t protect himself as Sam’s leg slid between his thighs and he pushed his knee up.
Dean bit on his tongue as Sam’s knee smashed into his crotch. A strong ache resonated through his balls. Dean grunted softly before he clenched his teeth shut to stay quiet. He took a shuddering breath to channel the pain and that’s when he smelt it. The breeze carried a familiar scent. That right there was the reason for his abrupt awakening. The blood in Dean’s veins froze to a halt. He was on high alert within a second. He took a deep breath again to make sure he wasn’t mistaken. The disgusting scent he hated with his whole might was strong and distinctive.
Dean’s muscles tensed and he tightened his hold on Sam as he set up. Sam grumbled unhappily at the sudden movement and clung to his uncle. Dean’s lungs worked hard and fast as adrenaline pumped through his body. He rose to his feet and strode toward Mary as something in his gut tightened. The fine hairs at the nape of Dean’s neck straightened as he sensed the threat looming close by. He took off running.
Mary noticed the movement a few feet away and looked up from the book. When she saw Dean’s expression, she instantly knew something was wrong. Dean’s face was contorted, the corners of his mouth turned down, and his forehead was littered with deep lines of worry. He was gritting his teeth so strong that Mary could see the muscles in his jaws twitch.
Dean was trembling like a newborn colt. He was in the midst of an adrenaline rush. Mary jumped from her seat as she realized that Dean’s posture meant something dangerous was coming their way. She recklessly dropped the book and met Dean halfway. “Dean, what’s happening? What’s going on?” Mary babbled with a high pitched voice.
She was frowning as her eyes darted along their surroundings in search of the threat. “Take Sam and go into the house. Lock the doors and windows, then hide in the basement. Cover the window and door with blankets to disguise your scent. Take your gun and wait without making a sound until I come back.” Dean ordered instead of answering as he tried to pry Sam off his chest.
“What?! Why should I do that? Dean, tell me what’s happening!” Mary argued with fire sparkling in her green eyes, hands clenched into fists. Dean was silent as he aimed his attention to Sam who didn’t want to let go. He carefully tugged his nephew free and pressed a kiss to his forehead before he handed the small boy into Mary’s waiting arms. Sam had fully woken up by now.
“De? De, where are you going?” Sam mumbled tiredly as he blinked up at Dean with sleep swollen eyes and clung to his mother’s body. Mary’s arms were wrapped around Sam and she was holding him up on her hip. Her gaze was still stuck on Dean who was scanning the area paranoid. “I have to handle something quickly, Sammy. I will be back soon, don’t worry.” Dean replied and while it seemed to appease his nephew, Mary wasn’t buying the lie.
“Mary, you have to go. Now!” Dean urged with despair evident in every feature of his face as he looked at his sister, body still thrumming with unused adrenaline. “I won’t go until you tell me what’s going on!” Mary shouted which earned her a frustrated growl. Dean’s lips were curled back to expose his teeth, but it was an anxious gesture. His expression spoke for itself.
Dean was fearing for their lives. He was panting aggravated as the scent of the nearing enemy increased. “They found me! They found me, Mary! You have to go, please!” Dean bit out through clenched teeth. He would have begged on his knees if it meant his sister would have listened. Mary’s eyes shot open and her heart began to race. “Do you mean your makers?! They are here?!” She asked alarmed and Dean barely nodded as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, tugging on the strands until his scalp stung. “De, I don’t want you to go. Stay with me.” Sam whined as he stretched his arms out toward Dean, wanting to be back in his hold. Dean grimaced as if in pain and his heart ached as he met Sam’s watery gaze.
“I will be back in no time, Sammy. I promise. You won’t even notice that I was gone.” Dean said with a broken smile as he took hold of Sam’s hands and littered them with kisses. John, who had heard the tumult, walked out onto the porch drying his hands on a dish towel. His expression was unreadable as he watched Dean coo at his son. He could sense that something was wrong.
“Mary, are you alright?” John asked as he strode to his wife and slang his arm around her waist. He felt how tense she was. John eyed Dean suspiciously, but was ignored in return. “Dean, you can’t run off on your own! They will kill you!” Mary hissed and Dean glared at her as he nodded at Sam who was busy fidgeting with his uncle’s broad fingers and hadn’t paid attention.
“Mary, I’m trying to save your family! Can you for once in your life listen to what I say?!” Dean spat out. He was worried and frustrated, but most of all, he was scared out of his mind for the lives of the people that mattered most to him. “You are my family too, Dean! You are my brother and I won’t let you hunt down a pack of rogue werewolves on your own!” Mary argued as she passed Sam on to John who listened to the exchange perplexed.
“What are you talking about? What werewolves?!” John tried to intervene, but nobody answered him. Dean stepped forward and gripped Mary by her shoulders. He caught her gaze and stared her down. Dean’s breath pattern was completely out of rhythm as his muscles began to twitch and clench as if he was having a seizure.
“Mary, listen to me! Your son and your husband need you more than I do. I can protect and defend myself. I don’t need your help! I need you to stay with your family and protect them! That’s what you have to do!” Dean whisper shouted and shook her as if that would make the message come through. Mary was still hesitant as her eyes flickered to Sam and John standing a foot away.
She tried to give her husband a reassuring smile, but the tears in her eyes ruined it. Sam’s head was resting on John’s shoulder and his eyes kept falling closed. “Sam needs you too.” Mary countered without much heat and Dean heaved a sigh. His heart felt heavy.“He doesn’t need me as much as he needs his mother.” Dean shot back and that seemed to do it. Mary’s revolt crumbled into pieces and she swallowed against the lump clogging her throat.
She quickly pulled Dean into a rough hug and clung to him. “Be careful, little brother,” Mary murmured into his ear before she pulled back to stand beside her confused husband and tired son. “You too. Now go and load your gun with silver bullets.” Dean replied gruffly as he pinched the bridge of his nose to cut off the flood of tears. He watched his family vanish inside the house and heard the lock fall into place.
Dean gave a curt nod and walked toward the animals to shoo them back into the stables. He wanted them to be safe too. The animals seemed to have smelled the threat or maybe they had felt Dean’s dread. Whatever it was, they cooperated without fussing. Dean took a last glance at the cottage where he had grown up and tried to ignore the nostalgia tugging on his heart as he turned away.
He shed his sweat drenched clothes and dropped them to the ground. As soon as he was naked, he took off in a run and called to his wolf. It didn’t take long until Dean felt the transformation begin. The pain was overwhelming as his bones broke, and his muscles shifted and stretched beneath his skin. His pores popped open and fur sprouted out of them as his senses sharpened.
Dean’s spine started twisting and squirming in his flesh. It grew in length as he fell onto his hands and knees. He growled through the sharp pain as the low of his back broke open. His coccyx was exposed for less than a heartbeat before a tail grew in its place. Dean’s hands and feet became paws. His head was changed at last. His jaw and nose were pulled forward by an invisible string.
His forehead was flattened, ears expanded upward and his cheeks were pressed in. Dean’s maw was hanging open on an inaudible howl as the shift took its peak and his organs resettled in his body. The transformation was done within a minute. Once Dean felt steady, he sprinted into the direction of the forest. His paws thudded along the ground and he didn't even try to be silent. His makers already knew that he was coming for them.
The wind was whipping at Dean from behind, carrying his scent onward. He didn’t have the moment of surprise, but he also wouldn’t need it. Dean was dead set on protecting his family. He would fight until his very last breath. Dean’s fur shone golden in the setting sun and the leaves on the trees rustled ominously as he followed the disgusting scent of the rogue werewolves.
His teeth were bared and every exhale sounded like a growl. Dean’s claws were digging into the dry earth, leaving traces. His mind was blank beside the seething rage that made his blood pump fast and hot as he raced through the tree lines. He was close. Dean saw red as he jumped out of the thick undergrowth and attacked his enemy with a murderous howl that sent the birds flying.
It was dark and chilly in the basement. Sam didn’t like darkness. It scared him. A ray of moonlight was shining through the single window shadowed with dust, but it didn’t enlighten the basement enough to make him feel safe. The air was moist and smelt moldy. Sam missed Dean and he wished his uncle was here to protect him. And he was bored out of his mind.
Sam had slept long and good underneath the cherry blossom tree with Dean holding him close. He wasn’t tired anymore. He wanted to play something, but his parents had ordered him to be quiet and stay put. Sam was sitting in an old, dusty camping chair and a thin blanket was wrapped around his shoulders to keep the cold out. He was still only wearing a shirt and cropped shorts.
Sam’s feet were dangling above the concrete ground, swinging back and forth in a mindless rhythm. He sighed quietly as he took a look around the dark space in search of entertainment. His mother was pacing through the room without making a sound. She was biting her nails and her eyebrows were furrowed. Sam was just old enough to understand that something was going on. Something bad. John was standing by the window and gazing out into the backyard of the cottage.
He seemed lost in thought. His posture was rigid. Sam wondered if he was waiting for Dean’s return, but it was unlikely. His father didn’t like Dean much. Sam thought that was stupid because Dean was awesome and everybody should love him. It didn’t make sense to him.
“Can you see anything?” Mary whispered in John’s direction while Sam watched them. John barely shook his head in reply and motioned to his ears. He was listening for suspicious noises outside. Mary grumbled and continued nibbling on her short nails. She growled as a piece broke off and spat it out before moving on to the next finger.
Dean had been gone for too long. With each passing minute that he didn’t return, the speed of Mary’s fall into madness increased. She wanted to go out there and search for her brother. She wanted to help Dean and fight by his side like they used to back in the day. But at the same time, she didn’t want to leave her son and husband. She knew that John could protect Sam if necessary.
John had been in the army, he knew how to fight and he was also aware of the monsters lurking in the world. But there was a reason why he was released from service so early. Mary wasn’t sure if she could hand John a gun without triggering a breakdown. John had been acquitted from conscription after his first and only abroad mission. Mary still didn’t know what exactly John and his comrades were ordered to do. She wasn’t allowed to know and she didn’t ask her husband in dread of shaking free bad memories. Whatever it was they saw and did, it ruined the soldiers.
Sam’s gaze followed his mother’s movement as she bent down to fix the blanket that covered the small gap between the door and the ground. He didn’t understand why they were hiding and why Dean wasn’t with them. The tension radiating from his parents was oppressive and Sam was failing to hide his dread. He was also starting to become hungry. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
Sam slept through lunch with Dean and he really could use something to eat. His empty stomach was aching and growling pitifully. “I’m hungry, Mommy. And I need to pee!” Sam whispered into the eerie silence that his parents had summoned. He sounded urgent as he felt, but the adults seemed unmoved. Mary strolled toward Sam and kneeled in front of him with a frown of sympathy.
“I know you are hungry, Sammy. But we can’t go out right now. You will have to stay strong until Dean is back. If you really have to pee badly, you can pee into the empty basket there. We can clean it up later. Try to stay strong for me. I know you can do it.” Mary murmured reassuringly and smiled as she brushed her hand through Sam’s silky locks. Sam pouted and crossed his small arms in front of his chest. His stomach chose that moment to growl obnoxiously loud and he almost whined. Sam’s head was starting to hurt alongside his stomach and he was close to crying out of pure irritation. “I don’t think I can wait, Mommy!” Sam argued brokenly. His eyes were brimming with tears and Mary’s heart ached seeing his distress.
She opened her mouth to reply, but John spoke before she could and threw a look in their direction. “Cut it out, son! You will survive without food for a few hours. There is nothing to cry about.” John grumbled with a harsh edge to his voice and Sam flinched. He shrank into the blanket wrapped around him and kept his mouth shut just like his father had ordered.
Mary’s frown deepened, but this time it was with wrath blazing in her eyes. She leaned forward to press a kiss onto Sam’s forehead and whispered a reassurance before she stood up and strode toward John with her shoulders a tense line. Sam peeked out of his cocoon as Mary’s steps echoed through the basement and he quickly realized what would happen next.
Sam was used to his parents fighting. Lately, it has been happening more often. Sometimes they merely argued civilly. But then there were the times when they screamed at each other so loud that they scared the animals outside. Mary usually cried after the fight was done and John had stormed out of the house. Thankfully, Dean was always there to soothe Mary and make her laugh again.
One more reason why Sam loved his uncle so much. He was kind to everybody and didn’t scream. Sam watched as his parents argued. They were whispering which didn’t lessen the aggressive bite to their voices. John’s entire forehead was crunched up as he frowned and Mary was gritting her teeth noisily. Her hands were clenched to fists as she crossed her arms underneath her breasts.
Sam couldn’t hear what they were saying and he also didn’t want to. He hated it when his parents fought. It made him feel sad. He just wanted his parents to be happy. Sam sighed mournfully as Mary and John kept snapping at each other. The fight was interrupted as a ferocious howl rang through the silent nightfall. Sam’s eyes grew wide and a grin blossomed on his face.
Goosebumps erupted on his skin. “That was a wolf!” He marveled slack jawed while John and Mary froze on the spot. Sam perked up even more as a second howl followed. He began vibrating with excitement. Sam liked animals. They fascinated him and he loved to learn about them. But wolves were his absolute favorite. He didn’t know why. It was just like that.
“Do you think it’s a pack, Mommy?” Sam asked as he squirmed in his seat. He looked up to find Mary staring out of the window, not listening to him. He pouted, but kept quiet and instead waited for more howls. The blood had drained from Mary’s face. She was as pale as a ghost. The ground beneath her feet seemed to sway. She couldn’t say how far away the wolves were, but she was certain they weren’t headed for the cottage.
She knew Dean was still out there fighting for his life and his family. The howls hadn’t sounded triumphant. There were noises of pain. It was a war declaration that had Mary’s hackles rise. She only hoped that it hadn’t been Dean howling in agony. Horrible images of Dean’s bloody, mutilated corpse lying on the cold ground with his lifeless eyes wide open and staring into the void flashed through Mary’s mind.
She squeezed her eyes shut to try and diminish the pictures, but it had the opposite effect. Mary saw Dean’s carcass again, only this time he was in his wolf form. The spot where his throat used to sit was torn apart. Blood gushed out with the quickly fading beat of his heart. His belly and chest were ripped open too, entrails spilled onto the grass beneath him.
Mary drew in a ragged breath through clenched teeth as her stomach rebelled against the violent images. She rubbed the heels of her palms into her eyes to erase the pictures from the canvas of her brain and straightened her spine. She knew what she had to do. Mary dropped her hands and turned to John who had been watching her silently.
“I’m going out now. Stay here with Sam and protect him! The moment I’m gone, you have to lock the door again and cover the gap beneath it to veil your smell.” Mary ordered and her tone of voice left no room for objection. But John still tried to protest. “What? No! Are you insane?! You are not going out there! It’s too dangerous!” John barked and Mary simply ignored him as she went to one of the old, dusty wooden boxes stored in the basement.
She crouched down in front of it and snatched the key that lay on top. She unlocked the crate and the metal hinges screeched as she heaved the lid up. “I won't let my brother die, John! He needs me and Sam needs you! This isn’t the first time I’ve hunted werewolves. I know what I’m doing!” Mary hissed while searching for silver knives and more bullets for the gun fastened to her hip.
“You haven’t hunted for a whole decade, Mary! You aren’t as well trained as you used to be! You could die! Do you want Sam to grow up without his mother?!” John bit out and the combination of concern and frustration caused his voice to tremble.
“No, of course not! How could you even ask that? But Dean needs help! He is my brother, John! I can’t and won’t let him die!” Mary ground out past clenched teeth as she hid a knife in each of her boots and straightened her dress. She had no time to change clothes. “I would rather have him dead than you!” John bellowed at full volume. Before he knew what was happening, he felt a harsh sting on his cheek. His head snapped to the side, teeth digging into the soft flesh of his bottom lip.
Mary’s hand slowly sank to rest against her thigh. Her palm felt hot and she was aware of Sam’s eyes on them, but she didn’t turn to him yet. She pointed a shaking finger at John, chest heaving rapidly from the quickened breathing. Her mouth was dry and her eyes itched with the prickle of tears. She held them back and swallowed the growing lump in her throat.
“When I come back, I want you to pack your stuff,” Mary said with a rough voice and John’s eyebrows rose. He opened his mouth to reply and was cut off before he could speak. “I think it would be best if you stay at a hotel for a while. You need to start thinking about your behavior, John. I can forgive a lot of things, but you just took it a step too far.” Mary added with quivering lips. John tilted his head in acknowledgment and averted his gaze.
Mary gave a harsh nod of her own and rubbed at her burning eyes before she finally turned to face her son. She crouched down by Sam’s side and took a deep breath. Mary forced herself to smile, but Sam’s worried expression didn’t cease.“Hey, baby,” Mary murmured as she took hold of Sam’s petite hands and squeezed them.
Sam returned the squeeze with less pressure and tried to smile as well although he felt more like crying. “Would you like it if Dean stays with us for a few days while Dad is gone?” Mary asked quietly, aware of the effect the mere mention of Dean would have, and Sam gasped in joy.
“Yes! I would love that!” Sam exclaimed and he was grinning so wide that the corners of his eyes were crinkled. His heart had sped up and was pumping happiness through his veins. He was jittery with it. “That’s what I thought.” Mary chuckled and pulled Sam into a desperate hug. Eyes falling closed, she inhaled Sam’s soft scent. Back when he was a baby, Mary used to smell Sam's hair like it was a drug. She couldn’t get enough of his unique baby scent.
“You can also sleep in the big bed with me if you want.” Mary offered with a chaste smile and Sam nodded where his head was resting on her chest. She sighed and pressed a kiss to the top of Sam’s head before pulling away. Mary cupped Sam’s face and rubbed her work roughened thumbs along his cheeks. She grinned at him and tried to memorize his beautiful features.
Mary prayed silently that she would come home safe. She didn’t want to leave Sam and John. The thought of never seeing them again broke her heart. She didn’t know if she would die in this fight, but she had to be realistic. Hunting werewolves, especially rouges, was difficult and Mary was out of practice. But she couldn’t continue sitting around hoping that her brother would return to them safe and sound. She had to help him.
Dean was her little brother and protecting him was her job. It was a lifelong responsibility that she wouldn’t fail now. Mary leaned down to brush a kiss on the tip of Sam’s nose, knowing it would make him laugh and needing to hear it again before she left. Sam giggled wildly and held onto Mary’s wrists framing his head.
He could sense the waves of dread and grief radiating from his mother. He knew instinctively that she was heading into a dangerous situation. Sam might have been young, but he was smart. He tried to suppress the growing sadness sitting heavy in his chest. He knew that his mother would always come back to him. Sam had faith in it and it provided him with the needed reassurance.
“I have to go now, Sammy. I will be back soon with Dean and then everything will be alright again. Stay here and listen to what Dad says.” Mary concluded before she reluctantly released Sam and bit onto her quivering bottom lip to keep it still. “Yes, Mommy. I love you.” Sam replied and surged forward to plant a clumsy kiss on his mother’s cheek.
Mary almost sobbed and allowed the warmth of love to spread through her body. It strengthened her. “I love you too.” She croaked with a wobbly smile as she stood up. Mary’s heart ached as she watched Sam wrap the blanket tightly around his small, shivering limbs. She took one last glance at him and clutched her chest before she turned away.
Mary didn’t know what to say to John, the man she had loved since day one. She was still hurt by his reckless comment about Dean, but she didn’t want to leave with this unresolved tension between them. Mary sighed and decided to sidestep the anger. She grabbed John’s hand and looked up at him from beneath her long lashes, eyes glistening.
“Take good care of him and don’t be too hard. You have to promise me that.” Mary lamented and John set his jaw because this felt too much like a farewell. He nodded anyway. “I promise. And you have to promise me that you will come back.” He replied with audible urgency. John regretted what he had said and he didn’t want them to part on bad blood either.
“I promise.” Mary leaned up to steal a kiss from her husband before she let go of his hand. She walked toward the door and didn’t look back as she kicked the blanket out of her way. She couldn’t stand the sight of her boys watching her leave. The house was ominously silent as she stepped out of the basement. Mary took a deep breath and tried to focus.
She had to stay strong. Dean, John, and Sam relied on it. One mistake and everything would crumble apart. She wouldn’t let that happen. Mary stalked up the stairs determined to keep the promise she had made, but life doesn’t always go as planned. She left the house not knowing it was the last time she saw her family.
Sam couldn’t say how much time had passed since his mother left. Every minute felt like an eternity to him. John was restlessly pacing through the basement and kept glancing out of the window. When he didn’t see anything signaling Mary’s return, he would curse loudly. He had a terrible feeling. His limbs were shaking, sweat clung to his forehead and his lip was bitten bloody.
Sam sat on the lumpy camping chair and watched his father. He could feel John’s tension and it made him anxious as well. At least his bladder, head, and belly had fallen into a blissful numbness. Sam didn’t feel the pain anymore, but he was growing tired. It had been an exhausting day and even though he napped in the sun, he felt drained to the core. He wanted to sleep, but couldn’t find a comfortable position to do so.
Sam’s mouth fell open and his jaw ached as a yawn escaped his throat. His eyelids were heavy. John glimpsed in Sam’s direction when he heard the noise of exhaustion. Sympathy ached in his chest, but he couldn’t bring himself to say something reassuring. He didn’t know what. He was too concerned to form even a coherent thought. And John didn’t spend as much time with Sam as Mary and Dean did. Of course, he loved his child.
He loved Sam more than anything else. But he didn’t know how to treat him. John’s father had been a disturbed man who was in no shape to raise a child. He didn’t know how to behave around Sam and to make it worse, John couldn't tap into his parental instinct. It was frustrating that he didn’t know how to soothe his own child.
John opened his mouth to speak, hoping that his mind would spit out something useful to calm Sam, but that’s when he heard a noise. His head snapped up and he ran to the tiny window through which moonlight shone. He squinted into the darkness and tried to see beyond the line of trees.
“What’s going on, Daddy?” Sam asked with wide eyes, his voice nothing more than a whisper of a breath. Dread had wrapped a cold hand around his small chest and was squeezing the air out of his lungs. John didn’t reply and waved at Sam to silence him. His heart was thrumming against his sternum as if it was trying to burst out.
Years of practice had made it possible for John to see well in the darkness and that was probably the only reason why he managed to make out the approaching person hidden in the shadows. John’s muscles twitched as he noticed the threat. He was about to turn around and pull a gun out of the crate at his back when he saw the flutter of a familiar dress.
His heart stopped beating all at once and he froze on the spot as the person stepped out of the shadows. He could recognize Dean and the motionless body lying in his arms. The ground swayed dangerously underneath his feet and John struggled to breath. He was certain he would faint. The horrified scream that cut through the night sent a brutal jolt of electricity through his nerves.
“John! I need help! John! Help me!”
Sam flinched out of the trance like state he had been caught in when he heard a well known voice outside the house. He didn’t like how frightened Dean sounded. He was screaming at the top of his lungs and there was a hitch to it, as if he was crying. “Are Mommy and Dean back?” Sam inquired with his short arms wrapped around himself in search of warmth and comfort.
John choked on a stifled sob as he noticed the red liquid littering Mary’s dress. It was so much it was clearly visible from the distance. “Stay here, don’t move, and don’t speak,” John commanded past gritted teeth as Dean shouted again. He walked toward the door, dragging his feet across the ground as if they were cement blocks. The lump in his throat made it impossible to swallow.
“I want to come with you! Don’t leave me alone, Daddy!” Sam cried out with wide eyes and a stone of anxiety lying heavy in his gut. He shrugged out of the blanket to follow his father despite having been ordered not to. “You stay here!” John roared, his voice booming through the small space of the basement and Sam’s heart leaped in dread.
His bottom lip began to tremble as tears prickled in his eyes and his breath hitched. John ignored his son’s obvious distress and ripped the door open with such force that the hinges protested. The door banged off the wall and Sam flinched again, a sob breaking free. John sprinted up the stairs and left the house while Sam stayed put. He cried softly as he rocked back and forth.
He was so scared. All he wanted was to see his mother and uncle. The tears streaming down his cheeks burned on his cold skin and he sniffed. That’s when the yelling started. Sam’s lungs ached as he panted. He was close to hyperventilating. He couldn’t quite understand what was being said, but he recognized John’s and Dean’s voices. Sam trembled as the volume rose.
He sobbed into the blanket clenched into his white knuckled fists and waited anxiously. The yelling continued for an indefinite time and then it stopped abruptly. Sam held his breath and strained his ears. He heard someone storm into the house and dash down the stairs to the basement. Sam whimpered and shrank back as the person stepped into the dark room.
It took him a moment to realize it was his uncle. Sam had almost sighed in relief until he noticed Dean was only wearing his dirty shorts and his naked chest was covered in blood. “Dean!” Sam gasped and struggled to free his stiff limbs from the blanket. Dean’s gaze finally found him and he fell to his knees as Sam ran toward him. His face was a mask of dirt, blood, and the unmistakable tracks of tears. Sam stumbled into Dean’s waiting arms and held him tight enough to leave bruises.
He sobbed loudly as he buried his face in Dean’s neck to hide from the cruel world. He didn’t care about the dirt and the blood. Sam just needed to be close to Dean. “Where were you? Are you hurt? Where is Mommy?” Sam managed to ask in between broken sobs. The physical contact helped him calm down. Dean was gripping with him the strength of a drowning man and Sam felt something wet drip onto his neck. Dean was crying.
Sam pulled back to look at his uncle’s flushed face and his heart ached. “Sammy, you have to listen.” Dean began quietly and his voice sounded scratchy, as if he had eaten gravel. He dismissed Sam’s question. They didn’t have much time left. “I have to go, babyboy. I have to go.” Dean croaked and everything in him protested. His heart was bleeding and it hurt more than anything he had ever known.
“What? Why? Where are you going? When will you come back?” Sam was clearly disappointed. His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at his uncle. Dean sobbed quietly and bit onto his bottom lip to stop it from trembling. His throat was slowly closing up, his eyes were burning and speaking had become difficult. “I won’t come back, Sammy,” Dean confessed and he felt like vomiting right then. It was as if he could see Sam’s innocent heart break apart and it made him want to wail.
He clenched his teeth to keep the sound of grief in. “What? No!” Sam whimpered as an intense wave of pain swept him away and threatened to drown him. “Dean, you can’t leave me! Please, don’t!” He cried out as new tears started streaming down his cheeks. The dam was broken. Dean pulled Sam back into his arms although he knew it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t magically cure the agony both of them were feeling.
Dean wept into Sam’s hair and held him so tight he was afraid he would break bones, but he couldn’t loosen up.“I have to, Sammy. I have to go even if I don’t want to.” Dean whispered hoarsely as his insides bleed and manifested a pain for which no analgesics existed. “Why? What did I do wrong? Why are you leaving me?” Sam asked with his face hidden in the crook of Dean’s neck. He was clinging to Dean as if he was his lifeline.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, baby boy. This is my fault.” Dean answered into the fabric of Sam’s shirt where his tears had left a wet spot. He listened to John outside the house. He was sitting by Mary’s body, grieving for his lost wife. He had allowed Dean five minutes to say goodbye to Sam. “But you promised you would always come back to me! You have to keep your promise!” Sam scoffed and for the first time, he acted like a petulant child. Dean could only nod.
“I know, Sammy. I know. But this is different. I have to leave to protect you! You aren’t safe when I’m around!” Dean explained heatedly although he wasn’t expecting Sam to understand. He didn’t mention how guilty he felt because he couldn’t save Mary, the fear of attracting more evil and John’s threat. Sam didn’t need to know about that.
“That’s not true! You are the only one able to keep me safe!” Sam argued with a high pitched voice. He was trying to make Dean understand how badly he was needed here. But Dean shook his head and forced himself to pull away. Time was running out. “Sammy, I love you. Always remember that. I love you more than anyone else. And I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.” Dean mumbled as he held Sam’s face. His hands were broad enough to cover Sam’s cheeks and part of his neck.
Sam dug his fingers into Dean’s shoulders, unwilling to let him go, but deep down he knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. He sobbed softly and looked at Dean through the blur of tears. His heart ached with every beat and he didn’t know how to deal with it. “I love you too, Dean.” Sam whimpered and the wobbly smile he received made his skeleton shake in its cage of flesh.
“That’s my boy,” Dean replied with a wet chuckle. He grabbed into the blood soaked pocket of his shorts and tugged something free. Dean held the old amulet up and the golden head of it shimmered in the light of the moon. The amulet had belonged to him since he was a child. Dean had visited a friend of the family, a hunter with a collection of occult artifacts, when he literally stumbled upon it.
Dean saw the unique necklace and asked what it was. The gruff man told him it was an ancient amulet from the Maya culture. It was supposed to protect the person who wore it and bring them luck. Dean had wanted the amulet at first sight and the hunter passed it on without hesitation. He said the amulet had never worked, but Dean didn’t care. He took the amulet because it looked cool and felt right. Dean had worn it every day since then.
And when Sam was born, he decided he would gift it to his nephew as soon as he was old enough. Dean meant to give it to Sam on his next birthday. But now that he wouldn’t be there to experience it, he had to give it to Sam right away. “Here, this is for you. It’s an old amulet that will bring you luck and protect you. It used to be mine, but I want you to have it.” Dean’s voice sounded hollow because of the lump grating on his vocal cords.
He carefully pulled the amulet's cord down Sam’s head and let it rest around his neck. “Dean, please...please don’t leave me.” It was Sam’s last desperate attempt to make Dean stay. He gripped the bony figure of the amulet in his small fist and felt the horns dig into the skin of his palm. Sam turned his head and leaned into Dean’s hand cupping his cheek.
Dean blinked rapidly to keep the newly developed tears at bay. Instead of answering, he pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyes. Dean focused on Sam’s comforting scent and the gentle sound of his heart beating inside his chest. He tried to put a lid on the grief and failed. “I have to go now, Sammy. Take care of yourself for me. And don’t forget how much I love you.” Dean concluded and opened his eyes to be met with the sight of Sam’s tears stained face.
His heart began to bleed even more. Sam sobbed again and his entire body shook with the force of it as his soul ached, a foreign sensation he couldn’t quite describe. He didn’t think as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Dean’s mouth. It wasn’t truly a kiss considering that Sam didn’t really know what he was doing and he didn’t understand the meaning of the gesture yet.
He had seen his parents kiss and when he asked them why they did it, they told him because they love each other. Sam loved Dean and to show him that, he kissed him. Dean was spooked into silence as Sam gave him a chaste, innocent kiss on the mouth. He didn’t dare return the pressure, but he also didn’t pull away.
His skin was tingling everywhere and just for a heartbeat, the soul crushing pain was gone. But as Sam drew back, the pain returned twice as strong and Dean hissed as his body burned. He clenched his teeth and took a cleansing breath. Dean pressed his lips against Sam’s forehead and murmured another apology into his skin before he pulled away entirely.
As he stood up, Dean’s soul screamed in protest and tried to rip itself out of his body to return to its counterpart. Sam must have felt the same urge as he literally tried to reach for his uncle. Dean almost relented as he saw Sam’s grief stricken expression, but then he heard John’s heavy steps nearing the house. Time was up.
Dean walked toward the door and hesitated for a second. Looking back at Sam cowering on the cold ground, hugging himself and sobbing frantically, he wanted to die. This whole situation was his fault alone and instead of making up for it, he chose to run away like a coward.
“I love you, Sammy,” Dean repeated for a final time and the words were loaded with so many emotions, all of which merely underlined the truth of the statement. He turned away and began walking up the stairs. His feet were unyielding, but he forced himself to keep pushing.
Sam’s gaze burned on his back and Dean knew it would leave invisible scars, the kind one could only feel. When he stepped out of the house, he felt his soul wilt and dim. Sam watched frozen to the spot as Dean left. Suddenly, he felt empty. His blood had lost its warmth. It was cold like ice as it pumped through his veins, into his aching heart. The pain was so intense it was surreal. Sam was four years old, he had barely begun to grasp what life meant and at this moment, he wanted it to end.
He couldn’t imagine a life without Dean. He didn’t want to. Sam sat on the ground in the basement as the screaming outside started again. He didn’t move a muscle, didn’t even blink. He wasn’t sure if he was still breathing. Sam felt detached from himself. The shouting stopped as suddenly as it began and then he could sense Dean moving away. It felt like his soul was being stretched beyond its limits.
Sam cried until his body was dry. He was cold and tired. He whimpered as the agony grew and threatened to overwhelm him. Hours passed and the sun was rising again when John finally returned to the house. He went into the basement and picked his heartbroken son up. Sam didn’t have to ask to know that his mother was gone too as he saw the blood on John’s hands and clothes.
He was dead silent as John carried him upstairs and put him to bed. Sam turned toward the window mechanically while his father dragged a thin blanket across him. His eyes burned as he looked out of the window and watched the sun rise. The light was blinding, but the warmth it usually carried was missing. Sam couldn’t feel anything besides the holes left behind in his life by the two people whom he had loved most and who were gone now.