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Sam sat on one of the beds in their motel room. They had pulled into the small town of Cove’s Point that morning, hoping to have some downtime after their last salt and burn, but he had made the mistake of grabbing the local newspaper when he had stopped at the diner to pick up lunch for himself and Dean. Now, he sat with the remnants of his lunch on one side of this bed, his half-eaten chicken sandwich and cold fries, and the newspaper spread out in front of him. He was currently reading the same article again for the third time. At first, he hadn't thought much of the front-page article detailing the mysterious death of a young couple, but then something had caught his eyes, triggered a flicker of a memory. He wasn’t sure at first what it was, what he had read that nagged at something in the back of his mind so he had read the article again; two bodies, one male and one female so the attack and murders didn’t appear to be gender-based. The couple had been married, eliminating the idea that their deaths were based on sexual preference as far as he could tell. The couple was gainfully employed, neither had ever been arrested, and it appeared that they were into clean living - they didn’t drink, do drugs and they were runners. They had been out on their nightly run when they had been attacked.

 

Night . That was the trigger for Sam. The attack had happened at night. He read the article further. It didn’t give the cause of their deaths, just that they had been found the next morning by another local runner. On his third reading of the article he hadn’t learned anything new, nothing else jumped out at him, but it was enough to have him grabbing his laptop and settling it on his thighs as he pulled it open. Within a few minutes, he had managed to hack into the police database and had the actual police reports open in front of him. He scanned the information of the couple, making sure that what he had opened correlated to the article next to him. Selene and Markus Weatherbee, ages twenty-eight and twenty-nine respectively. They had been married for three years and the police had never been called to their home for a domestic dispute. Hell, it didn’t appear that they had ever received a parking ticket let alone a speeding ticket. They seemed unremarkable in every way, except their deaths. 

 

To learn more about their deaths, other than what little the police report detailed, he had hacked into the local medical examiner’s database wanting to know more than where they had been found. Their bodies had been discovered on a running trail; one that wasn’t as popular as the ones the city had created. This running trail wasn’t widely used anymore, and if a runner did use it, it was because they had grown up in town and knew about the old trails that wound around the outskirts of the town, with the trails being nestled in the woods. When they had been discovered at seven that morning by another runner, their bodies had what appeared to be claw marks up and down their arms and legs and their backs. It was almost like they had been attacked by something large and animal in nature. They had bite marks on the backs of their necks as if something had sunk their teeth into their tender flesh in order to keep them immobile until their hearts were ripped from their chests. And their hearts hadn’t been found at the scene of the crimes. 

 

Their attacks and deaths, while at first attributed to murder, were now being thought of as an animal attack, because there was no way anything human could do what had been done to this couple. Well, the coroner was only half right. With the claw marks, bite marks, and the missing hearts, that could only lead Sam to one conclusion - there was at least one werewolf in town, and most likely two since it would have been difficult for one werewolf to inflict that much damage on two bodies alone. One werewolf could cause a lot of death and destruction, two working as a team wasn’t good, and Sam just hoped there wasn’t a pack that had decided to settle into the sleepy town of Cove’s Point. No matter how many there were, he knew he and Dean would hunt them down and kill them before any more innocent lives were lost.

 

Looking over at his brother, seeing that Dean was asleep, he hated to wake him. Dean needed his sleep, hell they both did. But that was the nature of their job - saving people, hunting things. It was their family business that had been handed down to them from their parents and grandparents. And while he and Dean needed some downtime, time to rest and recharge, it didn’t seem like they were going to get that. Apparently, the supernatural beings that were behind the deaths of innocent people didn’t seem to care that they could use a vacation. That was fine with him, no matter what, the Winchesters would be there to end them. 

 

Getting up, he grabbed the remains of his lunch and disposed of it in the trash before waking Dean. With a hand on his brother’s shoulder, he gently shook him and then stepped back, waiting for Dean’s initial reaction of jolting up when he was awakened by anything other than his internal clock. He watched as Dean’s hand quickly slid out from underneath his pillow, his fingers wrapped around the hilt of his knife, raising it in front of himself for protection. Sam took another step back, raising his hands in order to protect himself. “Whoa, Dean, it’s me,” he said softly trying to soothe his brother before he went on the attack. 

 

“Sammy?” Dean asked in a groggy voice as he tried to blink away the sleepiness still clogging his mind. Seeing that it was indeed Sam standing off to the side, he lowered his knife, placing it on the bed next to him. “Sammy? What the hell, man? I could have cut you!” Dean yelled. He scrubbed his left hand down his face as he felt the bed dip from the added weight of Sam sitting next to him. He turned, ready to admonish his brother for waking him when he felt Sam’s large hand on the back of his neck. He stilled for the briefest of moments before pulling away. 

 

“No, Dean, you wouldn't have hurt me. We’re blood,” Sam said in a confident voice and then he winked at Dean to lighten the mood between them. 

 

“Yeah? You sure about that?” Dean countered back. “You’re so sure I wouldn’t have hurt you?”

 

“I’m pretty sure I could take you,” Sam offered with a smirk. They had grown up sparring with each other, and nine times out of ten Dean had been able to best him, but that was then when he had been younger, and smaller than Dean. Now that he was older, and had packed on pure muscle and was taller than Dean, he knew he had the advantage over his older brother. 

 

“Why’d you wake me?”

 

“I think I found a case.” Sam watched as Dean’s eyes widened in surprise. “Yeah, I was hoping for some downtime too, but we can’t sit back and let more innocent people die,” he explained.

 

“What type of case?” Dean asked as he shifted on the bed, getting some distance between himself and his brother. 

 

“Werewolf, most likely two. A couple was found with their hearts ripped out of their chests, claw marks on their bodies, and bite marks on the backs of their necks. No way a lone werewolf could take out two people by itself, so there’s gotta be at least two. Hopefully, it’s not a pack, but either way, they need to be stopped.

 

“Let me guess, the hearts were never found, and the deaths once thought to be murders are now being tagged as animal attacks,” Dean added. “Yeah, whatever this is, probably a werewolf in nature, needs to be put down. Doesn’t matter how many there are, we just gotta end this and soon,” Dean said firmly as he pushed himself off the bed. 

 

“Where are you going?” Sam asked as he watched Dean grab his duffle bag.

 

“I’m gonna grab a hot shower, get dressed and then we're gonna go look over this running trail.” With that, Dean lifted his bag off the chair he had placed it on when they had first gotten there and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind himself.

 

Sam heard the sound of running water indicating that Dean had stepped into the shower and returned to his bed looking through the article and the reports for the location of the running trail and just where the bodies had been found. Twenty minutes later, with the information typed into his GPS on his phone, he looked up from his laptop to see Dean walking out of the bathroom freshly showered and dressed. “I've got the location of the trail and where the bodies were found, so we’re good to go,” he announced as Dean set his duffle bag down on the chair.

 

“Then let’s go,” Dean said as he grabbed his jacket and the keys to the car, making his way out to the sleek black ‘67 Impala followed closely by Sam. Once they were both situated, Dean started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. “Okay, where to?” he asked as he glanced over at Sam. 

 

“Drive as if we’re leaving town, then a mile before that, you’ll see what looks like an abandoned road. Take that and it’ll lead us to the trail the Weatherbees used to run on,” Sam instructed.

 

“Got it,” Dean acknowledged and then reached over and turned on the radio, letting AC/DC’s Back In Black fill the cab of the car. He strummed his fingers against the steering wheel in time to the beat of the song as he drove to the location Sam had given him.

 

Pulling up to an old rusty gate, Dean cut the engine and looked over at Sam. “Well, we’re here. Let’s grab our shit and head out, see what’s around here, and if we find anything that’ll help us track however many werewolves there are.”

 

Sam nodded his head in acknowledgment as he got out of the car and joined Dean at the trunk, popping it open so they could rummage through their weapons for what they needed; guns with silver bullets, silver-bladed knives, and syringes filled with silver nitrate - the tools of the trade to take down a werewolf. He handed Dean a flashlight and then closed the trunk, ready for them to head out onto the trail. “You ready?”

 

“Yeah, let’s do this. We gotta get to the bottom of this before anyone else loses their life,” Dean said as he turned away from the car and made his way over to the start of the trail. “Okay Mary Lou Retton, you wanna go first, or should I?” He gave Sam a grin when he saw Sam shoot him a bitch face, one Sam reserved for when he was showing his displeasure with him.

 

Sam couldn't help himself from rolling his eyes at Dean. “Ha, ha, very funny. And Mary Lou Retton is a retired gymnast,” Sam gritted out and then scowled at his older brother before pushing past him to take the lead. 

 

“Oh, come on, lighten up there, Sammy,” Dean taunted, knowing how much Sam hated it when he called him by his childhood nickname.

 

“It’s Sam, how many times do I have to tell you that?” Sam grumbled darkly as he turned his back on Dean and began walking along the running trail, using the fading daylight to his advantage as his hazel eyes swept over the area searching for anything useful. He glanced over his shoulder to see that Dean hadn’t moved. “You coming, or what?”

 

“Yeah, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Dean called out as he started walking quickly so he could catch up to his younger brother. “I’m not seeing anything,” Dean said an hour later. “How about you?”

 

“No, nothing. But we haven’t even made it to the area where the Weatherbees were found.”

 

“What? You’re kidding me, right?” Dean grumbled and then saw Sam shake his head no in answer to his question. “How fucking far did these people run?” 

 

“Not that far, by marathon standards,” Sam called out and then heard Dean huff in annoyance.

 

“What does that even mean?” Dean asked incredulously. “Wait, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”

 

They continued walking in silence, searching for the area where the bodies had been discovered. A half-hour later, they came upon an area still cordoned-off with crime scene tape. 

 

“Finally,” Dean muttered as he peered over the yellow and black plastic barrier. He could see where the bodies had been left by the look of the trampled grass and blood patches on the ground. There were also large claw marks in the dirt, as well as what looked like drag marks across the grass. “Whatever went down here wasn’t pretty,” he said as he lifted the tape and crouched under it, careful not to step on anything that might be useful. Pulling out his flashlight, he scanned the area. The beam from his flashlight fell on a tree a few feet away from the area he was standing in. “Sam,” he called out.

 

Sam turned from walking the perimeter of the cordoned-off area to look at Dean. “What? Did you find something?”

 

“Maybe. Can you check out that tree?” Dean asked as he pointed the beam of light on the tree he wanted Sam to take a closer look at. “Might be nothing, but it looks like some of the bark is missing.”

 

“Yeah, sure thing,” Sam commented as he shined his flashlight at the tree Dean had pointed to. “Looks like you’re right. There are claw marks and black fur stuck in the bark.” He walked a little further away from Dean and the crime scene when he noticed another tree with claw marks and fur, but this time, instead of the fur being black, the fur was a lighter shade, possibly brown in color. 

 

Seeing that Sam had walked further away, Dean called out to him, “Hey, did you find something?”

 

“Possibly, not sure yet,” Sam admitted as he walked over to another tree to find tufts of fur in both coloring lodged in the bark. “Hey Dean, I’m beginning to think that these two runners were at the wrong place at the wrong time. I don’t think the attacks were about taking down the victims and eating their hearts, I think they stumbled upon a mating.”

 

“Crap,” Dean uttered as he stood from the crouching position he had been in to look in Sam’s direction. “If that’s the case, it’s no wonder the bodies were covered in the marks they were. The werewolves were possibly in a mating frenzy, the alpha was most likely trying to protect its mate from what it saw as a threat.”

 

“Yeah, which means they’re probably now gonna be searching for their next meal.” The words were barely out of Sam’s mouth before they heard a low growl. Sam turned in the direction of the sound, only to have something tackle him, knocking him to the ground and forcing the air out of his lungs. He could hear Dean’s panicked voice yelling to him, calling his name, but all he could focus on was the large and powerful creature holding him down and the snapping of the large jaws so close to his throat. He could feel the thing’s hot breath on his cheek as he turned his head away, trying to get his own labored breathing under control. He felt himself shiver as the werewolf growled low in its throat. The only thing stopping the werewolf from ripping his throat out was the fact that he had managed to bring his arms up when he had been knocked down. If he moved, let go of his grip on the creature’s shoulders, it would easily wield a killing bite to him. All he could do was try to hold the thing off until his brother reached him. If he moved a fraction of an inch, even if it was so he could reach for his weapons, he knew the outcome would result in his death. The smartest thing for him to do would be to wait for help from Dean. 

 

Sam looked up into the werewolf’s eyes, and for a moment it seemed like he saw some type of recognition there, almost as if it knew what it was doing. “Please,” he gasped out, despite the pressure of the creature’s weight on his rib cage making it difficult for him to draw in a breath let alone speak, hoping to appeal to the human side of the werewolf. It was just a moment that the creature drew back from its attack, almost as if it was considering his plea before it was snarling at him. 

 

“Sam!” Dean yelled as he dropped his flashlight in favor of pulling out his gun. Before he could get to Sam to offer him help or protect, he heard another growl. Turning in the direction of the growl, he saw a smaller werewolf approaching him. He did the only thing he could do. He raised his gun and fired, hitting the werewolf in the shoulder with a silver bullet. He heard it yelp in pain as it faulted in its attack. That gave him a moment to look over at his brother to see how Sam was doing. He saw that Sam was holding his own for the time being before his attention was drawn back to the werewolf that had set its sight on him. He aimed and fired again, hitting the werewolf in the chest and dropping it to the ground.

 

When the smaller werewolf yelped in pain, the werewolf pinning him lost its focus on Sam as it turned to see what was happening with what Sam could only assume was its mate, allowing him to use that to his advantage. He managed to get a good grip on the creature, pushing it off him so he was able to grab his knife. Gripping the knife by the handle, he brought it up, plunging it into the werewolf’s heart. As he managed to get in that death blow, he felt the werewolf’s teeth graze his wrist. He pulled back in horror, clutching at the wound, as the werewolf fell onto its side, drawing in its last breath with a mournful call to its fallen mate. 

 

“Sam!” Dean yelled as he ran to his brother’s side. “Are you alright?”

 

Pulling at his sleeve so it covered his wound, Sam closed his eyes, trying to figure out a way to tell Dean that he had probably been infected. Before he could say anything, he felt Dean’s hands on his arms, Dean’s firm grip pulling him up and onto his feet. When he opened his eyes, he looked into Dean’s orbs, and he saw concern in them and couldn’t bring himself to say anything about the wound. “Yeah,” he said with a nod of his head, sending his hair into his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just got the wind knocked out of me, that’s all.” His worst nightmare had just come to pass; being infected and becoming one of the supernatural creatures he and his family hunted and killed. 

 

“For a minute there it looked a lot worse than that,” Dean admitted in a shaky voice as he bent down and grabbed Sam’s gun. “We better take care of these two before someone stumbles on them, or us,” Dean said as he jutted his chin in the direction of the werewolf that Sam had taken down.

 

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, eyeing the creature. It was easily as large as he was in height, but it had more pure muscle to it than he did. His features contorted in thought as his eyes scanned the body. “Something’s not right here,” he said as he pulled his knife from the creature’s chest. 

 

“How so?” Dean questioned as he looked over the body, and then drew in a sharp breath when he realized what was wrong. “Damn it, it’s not changing back to its human form. You think it’s some kind of hybrid?” He looked over at the one he had killed to see that it too was still in its beastly form. “This isn’t good.”

 

“No, it’s not. It could be a hybrid or another form of a werewolf we’ve never come across. Things are showing up that we thought were only mythical creatures. Anything’s possible,” Sam surmised. Since they had both skirted around their deaths, defying the natural order of life and death, the world, and the supernatural had become unbalanced. Creatures once thought long dead, or mythical were now appearing, wreaking havoc on the world and unsuspecting innocent people. They had dealt with a Strix, a creature from Greek mythology that feasted on human flesh, a Siren, and a Sphinx which Dean had managed to defeat by solving its riddle before the Sphinx had been able to devour him whole. So, the possibility of what they were staring at being either a hybrid or even an offshoot of the typical werewolf they were used to dealing with wasn’t so far-fetched for them. And, he had no idea what would happen to him if and when he transformed. 

 

“Well, at this point it doesn’t matter. We took out what killed the Weatherbees. Let’s take care of the bodies and figure it out later,” Dean commented.

 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Sam agreed despite the growing knot of apprehension in his stomach. He needed to know what he was dealing with, especially since he had most likely been infected by the werewolf. 

 

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With the werewolves dealt with, Dean put his foot down, practically giving Sam an order to actually take some much-needed downtime. They both needed it. “That means not doing research. You’re not allowed to pick up a newspaper or open that laptop unless it’s to order us food. You hear me?”

 

“Yeah, I hear you,” Sam grumbled with an eye roll. “It’s not like I can really do much out here,” he said as he spread his arms out wide. Since their last job, Dean had packed them up, moving them from the motel they had been staying in, to a remote cabin with spotty WIFI connection. He suspected Dean had done that on purpose after their last failed attempt at getting in some downtime. And, if he was being honest at least with himself, it was probably a good idea for them to be off the grid and away from others, especially other hunters. He wasn’t himself, hadn’t been since the encounter with the werewolves. He had been feeling off; the wound had healed within a matter of hours, almost like it had never happened. Almost . There was a faint scar along his wrist, one that only he noticed. Since that night, he was hot all the time, feeling like he was running a fever, his eyes hurt just to even blink and everything was so loud to his ears. He had snapped at Dean several times just for the way he was breathing, the sound grating on his already frayed nerves. 

 

Rolling over on the bed, Sam was confused as to where he was and what was happening around him. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Dean?” he said in a gravelly voice and then winced at the sound of it. Everything seemed to be getting on his nerves, causing him to become irritable and actually aggressive; which he had been taking out on Dean. 

 

Looking up from the book he was reading, Dean looked over at his brother. “Yeah, Sam?” He made sure to speak in a soft voice, and he was doing his best not to fight with Sam who had been irritable ever since their last hunt. 

 

“I… How long was I asleep?” Sam asked as he sat up, looking around the cabin to find Dean sitting on the couch. The cabin they were staying in was one of the nicer hunters’ retreats they crashed at every once in a while. It was an open-concept with two queen-sized beds separated by nightstands. Sitting from where he was, he could see the rest of the cabin which consisted of a living room area and a kitchen with a small table and a set of chairs. Off to his right were a closet and a bathroom. All the comforts they needed to get by for however long they decided to stay. 

 

“About three hours, give or take. Why, got a hot date?” Dean asked with a chuckle.

 

“No, you jerk,” Sam gritted out as he pushed himself off the bed. “You don’t have to be an ass. A simple answer would have sufficed.”

 

Taking in a deep breath, Dean did his best not to react to Sam’s bad mood, wanting to ask what had crawled up Sam’s ass to cause him to be so cranky. “Are you hungry?” he asked instead. “I can make you something to eat.”

 

“I’m not a freaking invalid. I’m capable of making myself something to eat,” Sam snapped. “You’re always mother-henning me. Just back off!”

 

“Whoa there, Sammy,” Dean said hotly. “I don’t know what’s with you lately, but this shit’s gotta stop.”

 

“Or what?” Sam barked out. He started to advance on Dean, but caught himself, knowing if he took another step, he might not be able to stop himself from putting his hands on his brother. 

 

“Or we’re gonna have a problem, one where I solve it, and you’re not gonna like my solution,” Dean said as he narrowed his eyes at Sam seemingly sizing Sam up, trying to figure out how to handle the situation unfolding between them. 

 

“Yeah? I’d like to see you try,” Sam responded darkly. 

 

“What’s your problem lately? Is it your time of the month, Samantha?” Dean sneered as he stood up from the couch, dropping the book he had been reading onto the wooden coffee table. He placed his hands on his hips as he squared his jaw. “Ever since our last hunt, you’ve been an insufferable prick. What’s the hell, Sam…”

 

“What’s my problem? You, you’re my problem! I need to get the hell out of here and away from you before I either put you through a wall or snap your neck,” Sam said as he took another step closer to Dean. His hands were curled into fists and he was breathing heavily. The scent of Dean’s aftershave was cloying and was causing him to become agitated. The smell seemed to permeate the room. Everything was overloading his senses and he needed to get away from Dean before he did something stupid. At that moment, he didn’t know what he wanted more, to kiss his brother, or hit him. His eyes widened at that thought, and he stumbled back from Dean, turned and practically ran from the cabin and Dean.

 

“Sam!” Dean yelled after his brother as he watched Sam leave the cabin. Just what the hell was wrong with Sam? Sam had become aggressive lately when he wasn’t sleeping or eating. Which wasn’t odd, Sam had one heck of an appetite; usually eating egg-white omelets, salads, and kale. Now, Sam was eating anything having to do with red meat, bacon, steak, and hamburger - and pushed aside anything he normally ate. It wasn’t what he was used to from his brother. Sam was usually even-keeled, hardly ever getting aggressive and the change in his diet was just strange, but Sam’s behavior was becoming alarming. 

 

But now, Sam was different. Sam was irritable, easily losing his temper over the littlest thing. Sam had lost his temper on several occasions, seemingly angry with him because he had been breathing too loudly. What? And Sam had accused him of turning the pages of the book he had been reading in such a way as to annoy him. Again, what? He had no idea what Sam was ranting about. He certainly wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary to deliberately annoy Sam. He had even tried to tiptoe around Sam, only offering Sam what he normally had in the past. But it seemed that whatever he did either wasn’t good enough, or it pissed Sam off to no end. True, as Sam’s older brother, it was his job to toy with his brother, but this wasn’t one of those times. 

 

Sam stomped down the steps of the porch, fuming as he did. “Who does he think he is? Always around, never giving me any breathing space,” Sam ranted. “Are you hungry? I can make you something to eat,” he mimicked and then scowled at the thought of Dean. He just needed to get away from Dean and his damn scent. He glanced over his shoulder to see Dean was standing at the open door to the cabin watching him. “What?” he snarled and watched as Dean backed away and closed the door without a word to him. Seeing that, he turned and started running, needing to put some distance between himself and Dean. He continued to run until the tension flowed out from his body, leaving him feeling drained. 

 

Sam stopped by a tree, one hand on his hip with the other on the tree trunk as he caught his breath. Once his breathing had evened out, he stood to his full height and rolled his shoulders, and then placed his hands on his hips, bending backward so he was able to crack his back. With the tension gone, he felt more like himself; clear-headed and able to think without having his thoughts becoming muddled. This was the first time in days he felt like whatever was wrong wasn’t consuming him, or that he needed to sleep, or eat. 

 

With that thought, Sam’s stomach gave a rumble of protest. With a heavy sigh, he turned and started making his way back to the cabin. As he thought of Dean, leaving him alone in the cabin, he could feel himself becoming agitated again. He wasn’t sure if his heightened agitation was because of leaving Dean alone, or because he was returning to the cabin where he would be alone with Dean. As he got closer to the cabin, he could feel his heart hammering in his chest and the pain from digging his blunt nails into the palms of his hands as he curled his fingers into fists.

 

Sam found himself circling the cabin, checking the exit and entrance points to determine if he and Dean were safe. The only thing running through his mind was that he needed to ensure their safety. He found the kitchen window was opened slightly and his anger bubbled up at the sight of it. He stormed into the cabin, nostrils flaring and chest heaving as his eyes surveyed the room before him. “Dean,” he said in a low and tense voice.

 

Dean had been sitting on the couch reading when Sam came storming in, slamming the door behind himself. He pushed the book aside as he stood to look at Sam. “Sam?” he questioned cautiously as he took in his brother’s agitated state. He had hoped Sam would have calmed down by now, but apparently not. 

 

Sam stalked over to Dean, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and pulled him close so they were practically nose-to-nose. He drew in a deep breath, and wrinkled his nose as his sense of smell was assaulted again by Dean’s aftershave. He forced himself to focus on what he needed to say. “The window is open,” he gritted out and pointed to the window he was talking about. 

 

“Yeah, for some fresh air,” Dean murmured as his face wrinkled in confusion.

 

“That window stays closed when I’m not here. All the windows stay closed and locked when I’m not here. The doors stay locked and closed when I’m not here. Do you understand me?” He jerked Dean’s shirt for emphasis. 

 

Dean stared at Sam, too shocked to say anything. “What?” Dean finally managed to get out. 

 

“You heard me. Don’t try my patience, it won’t end well for you,” Sam said as he let go of Dean. “And enough with the damn aftershave. Take a shower and wash that shit off. It’s giving me a headache. Now, take care of the damn window,” Sam growled as he made his way to the bathroom, needing to shower off the sweat he had built up during his run. Once in the bathroom, he pushed the sleeve of his shirt up to examine the scar knowing what that was a reminder of. With everything he was experiencing, he knew he had been infected. It was only a matter of time before he turned. He knew he needed to say something to Dean before it was too late, he just couldn’t get himself to say the words. He forced himself to push that thought aside as he stripped out of his sweaty clothing so he could shower. 

 

Dean stared at the retreating form of his brother’s back wondering where that outburst had come from. Sam should have known by now that he was more than capable of defending himself should something attack. And it wasn’t like the cabin wasn’t secure. Yes, he had opened the window and would have made sure it was closed and locked along with a new salt line poured along the window-sill and the door before they turned in for the night. He never took their safety for granted. Sam should have remembered that. He chose to do what Sam had demanded, wanting to keep the peace between them. Sometimes it was just easier that way. He pushed any other thoughts out of his mind, choosing to overlook things for the sake of keeping the peace. The cabin was too small for them to be at each other’s throats. Instead of dwelling on things and trying to figure out what was bothering Sam, he walked into the kitchen and forced himself to focus on making Sam something to eat. Maybe Sam having a full stomach would help to mellow him out he hoped. 

 

Sam pushed the bathroom door open, letting it slam against the wall, and winced at the sound. Since taking his shower, he had calmed down enough where he didn’t feel like he was ready to jump out of his own skin. “Sorry,” he mumbled as his eyes met Dean’s. He could see the concern and confusion in Dean’s green eyes as Dean looked at him. He could tell Dean was watching him, trying to figure out what was wrong with him. He opened his mouth to say something, ready to confide in Dean but stopped himself when Dean offered him a plate of food. Remembering that he had actually been hungry earlier, he opted for eating instead of speaking. He walked over to the table, ready to sit when he decided he needed something to drink. He crowded against Dean in an effort to get to the refrigerator and stopped when their bodies came in contact with each other. He could feel the heat of Dean’s body radiating off of him, causing his breathing to pick up. He leaned in and scented Dean, taking in the smell of his brother. Dean’s scent was still being masked by his damn aftershave which didn’t sit well with him. He needed Dean to wash the cloying scent off his body. 

 

Dean startled at what Sam’s had just done, pulling away from Sam as he did. “What the… Dude, did you… did you just sniff me?” Dean questioned, unable to hide his shock at his brother’s actions. 

 

Sam licked his lips and then narrowed his eyes at Dean. “Go take a shower. Wash that shit off, now,” he said darkly, letting Dean know he wasn’t joking about that. 

 

“Bossy bitch,” Dean muttered as he turned and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door and distancing himself from Sam. Taking a deep breath to steady his frazzled nerves, he stripped out of his clothing and stepped into the shower, hoping the hot water would not only wash away his aftershave which was suddenly offensive to Sam but would alleviate the tension building within him. 

 

Satisfied that Dean was doing what he had told him to do, Sam sat at the table and began eating what Dean had prepared for him, a sandwich loaded with ham and cheese. If Dean did what he told him to do, listened to him, things between them would go smoothly. 

 

/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\

 

Several days went on like that; with them squabbling over nothing. To lessen the tension, Dean left for a few hours on a supply run. With Sam’s sudden increase in appetite and his desire for red meat, they were running low on food. He wanted to check in with Bobby, just to touch base with him but thought it best to remain unreachable because of the way Sam was acting. He didn’t want to worry the older hunter with Sam’s strange behavior. He was hoping that whatever was up with Sam would blow over before they came to blows themselves.  

 

With Dean gone from the cabin and out of his sight, Sam felt uneasy. He found himself pacing the cabin’s floor and looking out of the window for the sight of the Impala driving up. After an hour of being alone, he grabbed his phone, checking for any messages from Dean. When he remembered that the WIFI was spotty at best, he threw his phone across the room, watching as it bounced off the wall and hit the floor. He felt a sense of satisfaction at seeing the phone lying on the floor in two pieces, it wasn’t like he was able to use it anyway. As his satisfaction faded, he frowned at the sight of his broken phone. He picked it and tossed it in thrash, making a mental note to get a new one when they left the cabin.

 

As soon as Dean stepped inside the cabin, he found himself pushed up against the wall with Sam pressing his larger body against his. “What the hell, Sam? Get off me!” He struggled to get out from under Sam’s grip, dropping the bag of groceries as he did. “What is with you?”

 

“Where have you been?” Sam demanded as he scented Dean. “You’ve been gone for nearly three hours. Last time I checked, it didn’t take that long to do a supply run.” He shifted his weight so he still had Dean pinned against the wall, but he was now able to look at him as he caged Dean in with his arms. “Were you with someone while I was here waiting for you to return?” He sneered at the thought of someone touching Dean, at the idea of Dean letting someone other than him touch him. If that was the case, he was going to have to put a stop to that. He was going to have to make Dean understand that he wasn’t about to allow that. No one touched what was his. And Dean was his. Leaning in again, he breathed in the scent of his brother again. Thankfully, Dean only smelled of soap and his touch. No other scents lingered on Dean’s skin.

 

“What are you even talking about?” Dean demanded as he attempted to push Sam off him. “Get off me,” he said as he shoved at Sam, his hands connecting with Sam’s solid muscular chest. He looked angrily at Sam, and for a moment, he thought he saw a shift in Sam - like his hazel eyes were glowing red. He blinked and shook his head, trying to clear his mind which was clearly playing tricks on him. 

 

“Where were you? Answer the question,” Sam demanded in a dark voice, not moving an inch away from Dean. 

 

“I went on a supply run. Christ, Sam, where did you think I went? First I sat in the car for a while listening to music. I can’t do that here since everything seems to piss you off lately. Then I took my time getting what we needed. When I was done, I paid and came back. Happy? Did I answer all your questions? Did I pass your test?” Dean responded in a sarcastic tone. He couldn’t stop himself from flinching when Sam pulled his hand back, curled it into a fist, and punched the wall right next to his head.

 

“Don’t you dare take that tone with me!” Sam spit out in anger as he punched the wall, leaving a dent the size of his fist in it right next to Dean’s head. He looked down at their feet to see a bag filled with groceries spilling out of it. “Is that what took you so long? One bag?”

 

“No, of course not. There’s still more in the trunk. If you let go of me, I can go get the rest,” Dean huffed out in annoyance. Whatever was going on with Sam was getting old. Sam was becoming possessive, never wanting to let him out of his sight now, except for when Sam left for his nightly run. At least with the time they were separated, he could relax until Sam returned. And when Sam did get back, he seemed calmer. Hell, he had even woken up a few times to find Sam sitting on the edge of his bed watching him sleep. He was half-expecting for Sam to crawl into bed with him the way Sam had done when he was little. When he had questioned Sam about it, all he got was a grunt from Sam before Sam shot him a bitch face letting him know that Sam wasn’t in the mood to talk. With Sam’s recent outbursts of anger, he had chosen not to push the issue, erring on the side of caution and letting it drop before it caused another fight between them. 

 

Without a word, Sam let go of Dean, pulling away from him as he bent down to grab the fallen bag. “I’ll put these away,” he said as he straightened up, holding the bag in his right hand as he began to look through it. 

 

“Yeah, okay,” Dean acknowledged before turning and walking back out to the Impala. He grabbed several bags and brought them inside, dropping them on the table before returning to the car to get the remaining bags. When he walked back inside, he found Sam unpacking the bags, inspecting what he had bought before putting things away. “Is everything to your liking?” he asked cautiously, hoping what he had picked up was what Sam wanted. He wasn’t in the mood for another fight with Sam, especially after being shoved up against the wall by Sam.

 

“Yeah, still don’t know why it took you so long, though,” Sam grumbled. 

 

“Dude, I already explained things. If you don’t believe me, that’s on you,” Dean stated as he began to unpack one of the bags, trying to get that task dealt with quickly. He had a feeling if they didn’t move through that as fast as possible there would be another fight. He saw the dark look in Sam’s eyes and his eyes widened in shock. “Look, I don’t want to fight with you.”

 

“Then just do what I want, what I tell you to do, and things between us will be fine.” Sam reached out and grabbed Dean by his bicep, pulling him close. “Why don’t you understand things?”

 

“Things? What things?” Dean questioned as he finished putting the last of their supplies away. 

 

“Don’t try my patience. You won’t like what happens if you do.” Sam slammed his fist down on the table, causing the wood to crack under his brute strength. He stared at the mark in the wood and forced himself to move away from the table and Dean. Without a word, he turned and left the cabin feeling the need to run. He felt the pull of the full moon as he ran deeper into the woods. Stopping once to look up at the full moon before continuing to run until he felt the need to remove his constricting clothing.

 

 

Dean stood blinking owlishly as Sam left the cabin like he had every night before. This time, he was going to follow Sam. He needed to find out what was going on with him. One way or another, he was getting to the bottom of what was going on. He wasn’t as fast as Sam, but he managed to pick up Sam’s trail, running behind him at a safe distance. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Sam up ahead of him. All he could do was stare in open-mouthed shock as Sam stripped out of his clothing, practically ripping off his shirt and jeans after kicking off his sneakers. What the hell was his brother doing? His heart nearly stopped beating when he heard Sam growling and then his heart began to beat rapidly as he watched Sam change before his eyes. Sam’s hands had changed into what looked like claws, his facial features seemed sharper, almost wolf-like. And it seemed like Sam was growing, getting bigger, his body becoming more muscular. Sam’s body seemed to ripple with hard muscle, his skin darkened, almost as if he was growing fur, but not quite; Sam wasn’t quite human, but he wasn’t quite a werewolf either. Dean had no idea what to make of the sight before him, but he knew he needed to get away from Sam. He wasn’t sure what Sam was capable of in the state he was in, and at the moment, he didn’t want to stick around to find out. Had Sam been cursed? No, this, whatever it was, had to have happened to Sam on their last hunt. Somehow, Sam had become infected. He could do the research later, see if there was anything he could do to reverse what Sam had just transformed into, or at least lessen it, help Sam deal with it. He turned, ready to retrace his steps and hopefully leave without Sam noticing him when he heard Sam growling. 

 

 

Sam closed his eyes and lifted his face to the moon, letting its influence wash over him. He could feel how different his body was. He was more muscular, more powerful. He wasn’t sure if he would continue to transform, or if this was what he would become every month, and he really didn’t care. He just knew that everything was heightened exponentially - hearing, smell, and sight as well as his strength. His body thrummed from the change. He breathed in deeply and caught an enticing scent, one that was familiar and arousing. Turning, he noticed that he wasn’t alone, and he gave a predatory growl. Whoever it was that was with him smelled good. He gave his eyes a moment to find the source of the scent as he continued to sniff the air, taking a few steps to get closer to what he was smelling. “Dean,” he growled out in a low and gravelly voice when he realized who was watching him. Mate was the only thing that ran through his mind and he focused on that. He needed to claim Dean as his mate. He didn’t care that there was a part of his human mind that was screaming at him, reminding him that Dean was his brother. The wolf in him was overshadowing that objection, telling him that the only thing that mattered was that his mate was standing in front of him. He let the animalistic side of his mind win out, silencing any further protest of what was right and what was wrong. The human in him had been replaced with the alpha wolf in him. 

 

Hearing Sam say his name in that rough voice sent a shiver down Dean’s spine. Sam’s voice sounded raw and animalistic. Run , his mind screamed and he turned, running away from Sam, hoping he would be able to reach the safety of the cabin before Sam caught up to him. He knew it was most likely futile, but he had to try. If he could get to the cabin, get inside and barricade himself, maybe he would survive the night and live another day to help his brother. 

 

Sam watched as Dean turned and began running from him. He howled in rage at that and then began to give pursuit. He knew he was faster than Dean in his new form, and it wouldn’t be long before he ran Dean down. Licking his lips at that thought, he quickened his pace, reaching Dean and tackling him, bringing Dean down to the hard and cold ground. 

 

 

Dean could hear Sam running after him, the pounding of Sam’s bare feet on the ground seemed to shut out everything else, even the sound of his own rapidly beating heart. He knew he wasn’t going to make it to the cabin. The air was pushed out from his lungs as Sam tackled him, sending him sprawling onto the hard ground with a thud and a grunt of pain. “Sam,” he gasped as he tried to catch his breath. All he heard was heavy breathing, and he wasn’t sure if it was his breathing, Sam’s, or a combination of theirs together. 

 

 

Once he had Dean on the ground, Sam grabbed the back of Dean’s shirt and ripped it until it was in tatters, hanging off of Dean’s shoulders, exposing his pale and freckled skin. When Dean tried to crawl away from him, he growled low in his throat, issuing a warning for Dean to remain still. He didn’t give Dean another chance to move as he clawed at Dean’s remaining clothing, stripping him until Dean was naked beneath him. 

 

“Sam… Sam,” Dean whispered as he lay beneath Sam’s hard and unyielding body. He could feel the heat radiating off of Sam’s body. He felt like he was being scorched where their bodies made contact. He tried to crawl away, clawing at the hard earth beneath him, hoping for some type of leverage. None was forthcoming. He felt a large hand on his back pressing him down, and it felt like a cement block was holding him down, making it impossible for him to move, let alone breathe. When he went still, he felt Sam ease up on the pressure to his back. Instinctively, he knew he wasn’t going anywhere until Sam released him. He had his suspicions as to what Sam was leading up to when he heard Sam growl Mate into his ear and felt Sam’s hard cock against his ass. 

 

“Stay,” Sam ordered as he settled between Dean’s legs, pulling Dean up onto his knees. He gave a sharp bite to Dean’s shoulder to emphasize his desire for Dean not to move. Bringing his hands to Dean’s ass, he spread Dean’s cheeks, dipped his head between them, and licked a wet stripe from Dean’s balls to his furled hole. He hummed in satisfaction as he licked again, his tongue circling Dean’s hole, wetting it before spearing Dean with his tongue. 

 

Dean winced from the pain of Sam’s bite to his shoulder but forced himself to remain as still as possible. He couldn’t help the surprised yelp he gave when he felt something warm and wet against his spread asscheeks. His eyes widened when he realized that it was Sam’s tongue. Sam was licking his ass. He choked on air when he felt Sam’s tongue delving into his hole. “Sam… Sam, what...” he gasped out and then bit down on his bottom lip when he heard Sam growling at him. His mind was racing in a circle; Sam had torn his clothes off him, Sam had him down on his hands and knees, and Sam was licking his ass. Sam was laying claim to him, and there was nothing he could do about it. At this point, he wasn’t sure if Sam even knew what he was doing; Sam was acting more like an animal than a human being. 

 

Satisfied that he had sufficiently readied Dean for their mating, Sam repositioned himself so he was on his knees, leaning over Dean’s back. He had a tight grip on Dean’s left hip, only squeezing harder as he withdrew his right hand from Dean’s body. Bringing it to his mouth, he licked his palm, wetting it with his saliva, before fisting his aching cock. He lined himself up with Dean’s hole and pushed the head of his cock in. He didn’t stop until his pelvis was flush with Dean’s ass, ignoring Dean’s pained cries. With both hands on Dean’s hips, he pulled out, and then snapped his hips forward, driving his cock back into Dean’s ass. “Mine,” husked out as he fucked Dean. 

 

Dean cried out when Sam forced his cock into his ass. “Sam… please,” he gasped out when Sam began to fuck him, not giving him time to adjust to being breached by him. He felt like Sam was splitting him in two. The pain from having Sam’s cock in his hole was intense and his eyes widened when he felt something rubbing against his already burning rim. “No… Sam… don’t,” he begged when he realized that the change to Sam’s body hadn’t stopped at his cock. Sam’s transformation had also given him a knot. Sam was going to mate him. 

 

Leaning over Dean, Sam snapped his hips back and forth, thrusting into Dean’s ass as his knot began to form and grow. “Mate,” he groaned and then he licked at the back of Dean’s neck and then bit down on Dean’s tender flesh as he forced his knot past Dean’s rim, tying them together. He heard Dean’s pained yelp and he growled in response. 

 

Dean could only grunt as Sam pushed back into him. Sam’s teeth were still set against the back of his neck; it was a clear warning that he needed to submit to Sam, that he needed to remain still as Sam rutted against him, forcing his knot and cock deeper into him. His muscles clenched weakly, and he wasn’t sure if he was trying to push Sam out, or pull him in further into his body. He just knew that he was on his knees with Sam’s cock buried in his ass. He grunted again when Sam’s rutting increased, punching the air out of his lungs. “Sam,” he managed to gasp out as Sam’s larger body blanketed his own. The only response he received was Sam’s growl; another warning for him to remain silent, to take what Sam was doing to him without complaint. But his body was on fire; his knees were screaming at him from being held in the position he was in, and his ass was spasming from taking Sam’s cock and knot, and Sam wasn’t stopping. Sam continued to rut against him, having yet to come. He wasn’t sure how much more he would be able to endure, not that he had a choice. There was no way he would be able to get out from under Sam’s hold. On a good day, Sam had a height and weight advantage over him, but with Sam now being some type of werewolf, Sam was using his considerable supernatural strength against him to hold him in place. As his breathing became labored, it felt like he was becoming lightheaded. His vision was blurry and he was blinking rapidly to try to clear his vision. He knew he needed to remain conscious, too afraid of what would happen if he gave into the blackness that was slowly creeping up on him. 

 

“Mine,” Sam growled again as he pushed himself deeper into Dean’s body, needing to mark his territory, to mark Dean as his so no one else, human or inhuman, tried to lay claim to Dean. Just the thought of that had him growling low in his throat, the sound rumbling up in his chest. He felt Dean moving underneath him and he gave another warning growl, setting his teeth to the nape of Dean’s neck to hold him in place. He could feel the telltale signs of his orgasm coming on, and he snapped his hips, forcing his knot into Dean’s ass as far as it would go. As he emptied himself into Dean’s body, he opened his mouth, gave a growl of approval, and then bit down on Dean’s neck, breaking the skin as he laid claim to Dean, marking Dean as his. No one would dare question who Dean belonged to now that Dean bore his mark. 

 

Dean couldn’t stop the cry of pain that was pushed out of him when Sam bit down on his neck, breaking the skin at the junction of his neck and shoulder, laying a claiming mark on him. His breaths were coming in rapid pants as he tried to stop himself from fighting Sam, wanting the pain to end. He felt Sam’s teeth retract from his abused skin and then Sam was licking at the bite, running his tongue over his claiming mark. Before he could even form a thought about that, he felt Sam manhandling him until they were lying on their sides with Sam’s arms around him. Every time he tried to move, he heard Sam growl at him. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to remain motionless, waiting for Sam’s knot to deflate enough where Sam would be able to pull out from his throbbing ass. 

 

Sam pulled Dean closer to him as they lay there on the cold ground. He did what he could to keep his mate warm and comfortable, trying to protect Dean as best he could. He continued to lick over his claiming bite as they lay there. He felt at peace for the first time since the werewolf had infected him. His mind was quiet and he felt himself beginning to relax as the tension bled from his body. He buried his nose in the crook of Dean’s neck, breathing in Dean’s scent. Dean still smelled of mate and home, but he also smelled of something wild; he smelled of the woods, of the earth, and of being claimed. “My mate,” husked out as he drifted off. 

 

My mate. Dean heard those words Sam had uttered and knew he should be repulsed by them, by what had just happened between them, but for some twisted reason, he wasn’t. It somehow made sense that they had ended up where they were, how they were. They had always been in each other’s pocket. Living the life they led, how could they not be? There was never any time for anyone other than Sam. He hadn’t wanted anyone else if he was truly being honest with himself. He wasn’t sure when that had started, but now that Sam had claimed him, had turned him, he wasn’t fighting it. Just what did that say about him? As he let himself drift off to sleep, the last thought he had was that he didn’t give a shit. 

 

When Sam awoke, he found himself naked and curled around Dean who was also naked. He pulled in a sharp breath as the events from earlier flooded his mind. He had been in the grip of his first transformation; shedding his human side as the animal in him had surfaced, taking control. He couldn’t have stopped himself from what he had done, even if he had wanted to. And he hadn’t wanted to, not when he had given in and taken the one that he had been desiring for most of his life - his own brother. He felt shame in that; he was a monster. He pulled away from Dean, torn with wanting to wake Dean, or let him sleep as he ran from him.

 

Feeling the loss of Sam’s body had Dean stirring. “Sam?” he questioned as he raised his head and craned his neck to glance over his shoulder.

 

“Dean…” Sam breathed out. “Please… I couldn’t stop myself. You smelled of home, of mate.” Sam moved away from Dean. “God, I’m so sorry. I thought I could control myself. And now you know…”

 

Rolling over so he was facing Sam, Dean held up a hand, stopping Sam from speaking further. He needed to get Sam to calm down before he began to spiral out of control with fear. He had no idea what that would do to Sam now that Sam had been turned. Hell, he had no idea what heightened emotions would do to him either, but there was one thing he knew for certain, they both needed to remain calm. “Sam, stop. Look, I get it, okay.” He heard the hitch in Sam’s breathing but continued on. “We’ve been dancing around this for a long time, our feelings for each other.” He shrugged his shoulders before continuing. “I guess the wolf in you finally decided to do something about it. So, all we can do is move forward. We’re mated, it’s as simple as that.”

 

“You’re not… you’re not freaking out about this, like at all,” Sam commented as he looked at Dean, his hazel eyes searching Dean’s face for any signs of anger or regret. 

 

“At least you have someone as a mate who understands you. Someone who already loves you.” Dean looked away from Sam and down at his hands before pulling in a steadying breath. “What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell me.”

 

“I was afraid…” Sam started to admit and then looked away from Dean, too scared to admit why he had kept this from his brother.

 

“Of what? Of me?” Dean asked as he scrunched his face up, trying to figure out what Sam could possibly be afraid of.

 

“Yeah, of disappointing you, of repulsing you and I was afraid of what you’d do once you found out.” Sam forced himself to look into Dean’s green eyes. “We hunt things like me for a living. And now I’ve turned you…”

 

“This doesn’t make me your bitch,” Dean quipped, trying to lighten the mood between them.

 

Sam couldn’t help the twitch at the corners of his lips. “Yeah Dean, I think that’s exactly what this means. I’m your alpha.” He shot Dean a smirk and then closed his eyes as he tried to figure things out. “So, where does this leave us? I mean… now you know how I feel about you, how fucked up I really am.”

 

“Just stop,” Dean huffed out. “I haven’t kicked your ass, or tried to kill you, so I think that says I’m just as fucked up as you.” He looked into Sam’s eyes and saw fear and uncertainty mixed in them and offered Sam a comforting smile. “Guess that explains why you were acting the way you have been. Just wish you had said something. I mean fucking me on the ground, is not as sexy as it sounds.”

 

“Yeah,” Sam acknowledged as he ran a hand through his hair, dislodging some blades of grass that had gotten tangled. “Sorry about that.” Seeing that Dean was in a similar state, he reached out and brushed a few leaves off of him. “I couldn’t think straight. It was like I wasn’t me.”

 

“And now? Are you, you, or something else?”

 

“I’m me. I mean I can feel my wolf, but he’s sated. He has what he’d been wanting - you. I think that’s why I was the way I was around you. I was aggressive toward you and possessive over you,” Sam admitted as he stood and brushed himself off. He looked around for his clothes, but all he found were the ripped remains of Dean’s clothing. He winced at the sight. “Did I… did I hurt you? I mean…”

 

“Not gonna lie, you knotting me hurt like a son of a bitch, and my ass is still on fire. If you think you’re getting any tonight, you’re out of your mind,” Dean huffed out. He raised his hand. “Help me up, would you?”

 

Sam grabbed Dean’s hand and hauled him to his feet. “Dean, I’m so…”

 

“Sorry, yeah, I get it. Enough already,” Dean said with a roll of his eyes. “Move past that. Being sorry isn’t going to get us anywhere.” He brushed himself off and kicked at the remnants of his clothing. What he had been wearing last night was now a lost cause. “Guess I won’t be getting dressed.” He saw Sam open his mouth and he shook his head. “You’re sorry, I know. Hey, do you feel any desire to eat a heart?” he asked as his stomach growled. 

 

Sam shook his head. “No, do you?”

 

“No, I could use a hot shower and some food, but I don’t feel the need to rip out someone’s heart. Just what the hell are we?” 

 

“I don’t know. Guess we better figure it out sooner rather than later. But first, let’s get back to the cabin. I think we’ve been out here long enough, especially since we’re both naked.” Sam frowned. “Have you seen my clothes?” 

 

“Not since you stripped out of them and then chased me.”

 

“What do we do now?” Sam asked as they started making their way back to the cabin. 

 

“We stay off the grid. We don’t give a reason for hunters to come looking for us. We figure out exactly what kind of werewolf we are. I mean are we some type of hybrid? When you turned last night, you had features that resembled a wolf, but you weren’t fully turned, not like we’ve seen before and not like what turned you,” Dean explained. 

 

“And I remember most of what happened last night.” Sam bit his bottom lip, stopping himself from apologizing to Dean again. “Which is off with what we know about werewolves. They don’t remember what they did when they transformed.”

 

“We’ll figure it out,” Dean assured Sam as he closed the cabin door behind himself. They’d have to make a call to Bobby, loop him in on what had happened. He knew Bobby would do what he could to help them, and protect them from other hunters. “I’ll make a call to Bobby as soon as I can.”

 

“You think he can help?”

 

“Won’t hurt to ask him for help. I’ll just use broad terms so he doesn’t figure out it’s us.” 

 

Sam pursed his lips and placed his hands on his hips. “He’s gonna figure it out pretty quickly.”

 

“Yeah, well, we’ll worry about that when and if it happens,” Dean said softly as he pulled Sam to him, wanting to feel Sam’s naked skin against his. “It’s just you and me.”

 

Whatever they were now, they’d figure it out together like always.