The spring sky rumbled with deep thunder, dark clouds, large and smooth, beginning to swell in the skies. The wind picked up, sending salt and grit from the winter plows scuttling across the pavement. Dean Winchester stood leaning against the Impala, arms crossed and one foot resting as he looked down at the gravel, eyes dull and emotionless as the storm began to brew around him. Unruly hair longer than it should be caught the breeze, spikes flittering and catching the scattered rays of sunlight that fought to peek through the pending storm clouds.
A louder rumble from the angry sky pulled him from his thoughts; glancing up at the heavens he felt a few large drops of rain, cool water making little streaks as they sailed down his face. Sighing Dean took a deep breath of the spring air, blank eyes showing no emotion as he took it all in.
Sam had always loved thunderstorms. Even when he was little he would crawl under the covers with Dean so they could listen to the roars and growls of the thunder, accompanied by the light pitter patter of rain. Dean would whisper stories to him about why the sky was fighting or where the animals hid, and Sam would watch with bright, excited eyes as he listened to his big brothers words.
Dean shifted his weight and stood, slouched stance showing physical and emotional exhaustion through and through. The driver door screeched open; Dean slid in and lay down across the seat, curling up like a small child in desperate need of sleep. He listened to the storm outside, exhaustion overcoming him until he could fight it no more, he dreamed of why the skies were fighting and where all the animals hid.
xXx
Sam stared up at the livid sky, dark clouds beginning to block out the late evening light. The new leaves rustled loudly in the gusts, his long, shaggy hair blowing in his eyes and whipping about his face in a tangled mess. He picked up a walk, bare feet brushing the dampening grass of the forever going field he had settled in for the afternoon. But he had to keep moving, as he always did these days, and in his mind, always would.
Sam sighed as pained hazel eyes chanced a glance at the rumbling clouds; a flash of lightening then the soft rumble that followed reminded him of Dean. His thoughts told him to stop thinking of his brother, but those little snippets and random images that flew through his brain made him unable to not think of his brother.
The field gave way to a small woods, maples and oaks swaying easily in the growing winds, leaves brushed him as he entered, scanning the darkening forest with hard eyes. He felt the raindrops trickle down his bare chest and back as he walked on, thunder crashed loudly overhead as he found large hollowed out oak to take cover under. The inside was dry and filled with old autumn leaves, smelling of dry wood and rot, the space just large enough for him to fit. He slipped in and sat with his face to the outside, wanting to watch the storm as it grew before him.
The rain picked up, occasional drops slowly turning to a constant downpour, the rush of water occasionally deafened by a loud boom of thunder. Sam closed his eyes and listened, heart beat and storm mingling in his ear drums as his thoughts eased and slowly faded, light sleep taking him to thoughts of the skies fighting, and the animals hiding…
xXx
Dean opened his eyes, body stiff and cold from the hours of motionless sleep. He pushed himself upright, not bothering to work the tension from his muscles he roared the Impala to life, determined to get where he was going.
His thoughts traveled as he drove down the deserted highway, the sunrise relaxing his wary mind as it surrounded him in splashes of yellows, oranges, reds, blues and greens. The warm orb slowly filling the sky, readying the world for a new day with rays of soft light that danced on the fresh droplets of rain that still clung to the grass and trees.
Dean hated to think to the past, but he couldn't help it this morning as his mind traveled here and there. It was 18 months ago now. Over a year, that in itself was impossible for Dean to fully understand. He hadn't seen his brother in five and a half years. His heart sank at the very thought…
After dad had gone missing Dean went to Sam for help, he hadn't seen or talked to Sam since that night he left for college. He was nervous about seeing him, but excitement overtook him as he neared the door of Sam's current residence. He gave the handle a try and found it locked, glancing at his watch it was past midnight and of course an old lady like Sam would have been in bed.
Sighing he unlatched the window and crawled in, heart racing as he thought of his brothers surprised bitch face at his surprise arrival. He found himself in a small kitchen, eyebrow quirking at the refrigerator next to him, he nonchalantly opened it and scanned its contents for a beer.
A light flicked on and he turned to see a petite blonde woman in a smurf shirt pointing a gun at him.
"Who the hell are you?" She had said in a frightened tone, brown eyes narrowing at him.
Dean held up his hands and gave her a surprised look, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, no need for that, I'm just here to talk to Sammy. He does live here… right?" Dean asked, as slight embarrassment snuck in as he realized he may have had the wrong house.
The woman's confident stance dropped, eyes becoming soft and hurt at the mention of Sam's name.
"He did, but… he's gone." She whispered, clearly showing the fresh wounds that still tore at her heart.
Dean felt his own heart stop and his heart clench in panic and fear. He still squirmed with anxiety at the memory.
"Can you clarify what you mean by gone?" Dean had asked.
"He just took off and left a note, said the pressure was too much… but I know it's more than that. Sam was doing great, then after that attack, he just changed…"
Dean shook his head at the painful memory, "Wait, what attack? When, where's this note?" He demanded, unsure of what was being presented to him.
"Wait, who the hell are you anyway and how do you know Sam?" The woman said, finger tightening on the gun.
"I'm Dean Winchester, Sam's older brother." Dean replied with edged anger.
Dean remembered thinking how now, not only was his father missing, but his brother was as well. Sam was not one to miss school, especially when everything was going so well and he was living the life he had always dreamed of. Dean's heart pounded in anxious worry, desperate to find his baby brother.
"Oh, he… he uh mentioned his family a few times, but was never too clear. He did leave you something though, I would have called, but there was no number to reach you." Dean had looked to her with intense eyes, now curious as to why his brother would leave a note of some sort.
She put down the gun and stepped back into the hall, opening a closet and drawing a small metal box from the shelf. It was painted a neutral grey with some rust spots, and in big black marker across the top in his brothers terrible handwriting read, "For Dean." A simple combination lock held it closed, Dean knowing Sam had placed it there for him to easily access.
"Tell me more about this attack." Dean asked as she handed to box to him.
"We had gone camping with some friends in the mountains about two hours from here with another two couples, everything was going great, just relaxing and taking everything in until the third night. We all heard some strange howls and growls, brushing it off as a pack of coyotes we set up some fires to scare them off.
But sometime in the night Sam went to do a sweep around the site and make sure everything was okay. I woke up to yelling and by the time we got out there whatever had attacked him was gone, and Sam… he was covered in blood, his arm ripped open. We wanted to get him out then, but he said to wait until sunrise, he would be okay for the few hours. I don't know how he stayed so calm, or knew what to do, he just did, cleaned his wound, told us what to do and we made it until morning.
We got to the hospital right away and they quarantined him, afraid the thing may have had rabies. Luckily, he was in there less than two days and came out with a clean bill of health." Dean had known when she stopped this is where the story had its twist. He hated twists.
"A few weeks went by and Sam started acting… different. He became extremely moody, he wasn't at all like himself. I could always count on Sam to be calm, cool and collected in the most stressful of time, but he suddenly just seemed to snap. One minute he was high on life, happier than I'd ever seen him, the next he would be in a downright terrifying rage. I had never been scared of Sam, I trusted him with my life… but one night he threw me against the wall… and…. And the look in his eyes was insane…" She paused, eyes tearing up at the memory.
"I started to question if the hospital had missed something, I escaped the house and stayed at a friends, still in shock Sam would ever intentionally hurt someone. But I knew in the back of my mind this wasn't Sam, this had to be something else. When I came back the next morning though, he was gone and he had just left a note apologizing for everything." Her eyes met those of Sam's older brother, seeing a bit of the man she had loved so much in them.
"Please, you… you have to find him." She pleaded, voice cracking in emotion.
Dean let the memory of Jessica fade away into the passing scenery, eyes becoming misty as his throat tightened at the all too detailed memory.
Upon opening the box from Sam he had found a note just for him, every word now seared in his brain, the memory of the smudged, black ink in his little brothers unmistakable handwriting.
Dean,
I hope you get this at some point in your life and it doesn't become some forgotten letter. I would hate to leave you like that, and I wish I didn't have to at all. I'm sure Jess told you about the attack, I guess that's what I get for trying to leave the hunters life, huh? I still don't know what it was Dean, I've done all the research I can do and have found nothing like it. I do know though that its bite seemed to have cursed me in some matter… I'm not me anymore. Not always anyhow, it comes and goes, but the more time that passes, the harder I find it to control. It's why I left Jess, I wanted to shoot myself the night I hurt her, but just couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't call you or dad because this is something I have to do on my own, literally. The… symptoms seem to spike whenever I feel intense emotion, and being with you and dad... it would be too much, and too dangerous. Don't look for me Dean, I can take care of myself, you taught me that. If it worsens though, I won't be coming back, I couldn't bare the thought of ever hurting someone again. But for now I'm seeking answers, and hopefully some help. I have no idea where it will lead me, but just know I'll be okay. If worse comes to worse… I'll let you know where I'm at somehow, I won't let you go through life not knowing, I wouldn't do that to you and dad. I hope you can forgive me, Dean.
Love, Sam
Dean pulled into a gas station, letting the letter play again and again in his mind as he filled up his tank. Looking to the sun that was now at its morning peak, he wondered what his brother was doing now…
xXx
Sam had awoke to the first calls of the morning birds with his body aching from the uncomfortable position he had fallen asleep in. Crawling from the space he stretched and massaged his muscles until the tightness and tension faded away. He looked about the plains of eastern Colorado behind him, trees were beginning to thicken around him, but remained sparse in the deserted landscape. The small woods he had sheltered in holding no more than twenty or so trees.
But it was peaceful, and that was all that mattered. Here, no one could touch him, and that… thing inside him couldn't hurt anyone. It was a lonely existence, he debated often if it was worth it, but the thoughts would be brushed away as he thought of the possibility that somewhere, someone knew how to rid him of this curse.
The air was chilly, the ground damp with fresh rain, but Sam went unphased by the early April air that nipped at his bare arms, chest and feet. Since the first occurrence he found he rarely became cold, heat frustrated him so he avoided it at all costs, and stuck to the cooler areas if possible.
Sam carried on, thoughts quiet as he let the beauty around him sooth his mind. The skies and fields seemed to stretch on forever, the occasional group of trees or house popping up along the way and the new, soft grass trying to push through beneath his feet. A gentle breeze would pick up, Sam's long, shoulder length hair falling into his soft hazel eyes as he leisurely walked on.
Sam had a car for a while, had used it for three months on his search for answers. But settling into the old hunting life with a new… something, hadn't worked out. He often found himself hating the motel rooms, so much he damaged a few. The car frustrated him as well, always to hot, to confined. The people were the worst though, too many, too loud and just so… human. He hated the thought of it, but he was different now, he wasn't one of them, could never be and he hated knowing he was different.
Here though, he was free, it may have been pleasing the side of him he wanted to shut away forever, but he couldn't deny the peace and happy these places brought him. So Sam had ditched the car and taken to walking. He stayed off the roads, but near them so he could still head where he needed. It took time, and a lot of it, but he realized four months into it, after almost killing a man who got to close, he was willing to take the time.
However, today was unique because he was almost too where he had set out to go six months ago. Chief Raven lived but a mere seven miles from where he stood, an Arapaho descendant, and expert on the mythological creatures of the northern plains. He was Sam's last hope.
xXx
Dean had tried contacting his father, but as usual, the man ignored his desperate son. Dean had gone to Bobby for help, the older hunter assisting him for months on end, until a year and some months had flashed by with no trace of Sam. The boy had just disappeared.
He had sent Dean too Missouri Mosely, a psychic his own father had known and talked to after their mothers death. Upon arriving she had simply said, "Oh, you damn Winchesters can't stay outta trouble, can ya?"
Her and Dean may have butted heads, but they grew fonder of each other as they slowly made their way toward tracking Sam, her abilities showing the path he had been, but trying more or less to figure out where he was going.
A week ago she had got it, Sam was going to someone much like herself, and the individual had sent out a message of some sort. Dean didn't really understand it, but Missouri had acted like it was very important and huge, so he had gone with it.
In just a few hours Sam would be arriving at a house in eastern Colorado, one which belonged to a Chief Raven. Dean made sure he was going to get there first.
xXx
The scent of hickory, cooking venison and old leather wavered in the air, bringing the images of what was to come into Sam's mind. A small smile came to his face as the log cabin came into view, small chimney puffing away with a neat split rail fence and two spotted horses.
As he grew closer he heard the bark of a dog, prairie wind carrying the echoes on into the deserted landscape. The longer field grass faded into yard and Sam found himself before the house, clothesline hung tight as old flannels blew lazily, dark oak with shining windows, it was a perfect place.
Sam took a deep breath and stepped up to the door, raising a hand he gave a soft knock at the door. A moment passed, hazel eyes searching, heart pounding in anticipation until a click and a creak then the entrance opened.
Bright green eyes stared back against light freckled skin, a small smile that was all too familiar smirked back. Sam's breath hitched in his throat, eyes grew wide in confusion, anger, panic and anxiety as he looked at the face of his older brother. As he saw for the first time in five and a half years, his brother, Dean Winchester.
"Hey, Sammy."
Sam stood frozen in shock, eyes narrowed as he studied his brother, his heart was racing and he felt that all too familiar itch. He had to get out of here, had to get out right now.
Sam swung round and sprinted off. The shouts behind him deafened by the loud pounding of his heart. He wanted to see Dean so bad, hug him and tell him how much he had missed him, but he just couldn't. Not after what he had become.
He didn't hear the footfalls behind him as he had expected too. He came to another small patch of woods and stopped to look behind him, shocked when he did not see Dean following. His eyes scanned the fields, but his brother wasn't insight. He slid down a tree, welcoming the pain as the bark bit at his flesh, sobs escaping him as he let the beast sweep over him.
xXx
"So, I'm just supposed to wait?" Dean question impatiently.
The older man chuckled, long silver hair pulled back in a braid, leathered skin in a wrinkled smile.
"Sam will be back, you startled him you know."
"I figured that much by the running, I just don't understand WHY he feels the need to run." Dean huffed a sigh and sat next to the fire place.
"He will tell you soon enough, give him time, he deserves that at least." Chief sipped his tea and continued reading from the newspaper.
Dean waited, and waited, but after the hours went by, his patience could only take so much.
Standing her grabbed his coat and headed for the door, "I'm goin' for a walk."
The door shut softly behind him, Dean stepped out into the early spring evening, the frogs were singing and the crickets chirped, the sun was getting low in the sky and Dean could feel another storm coming.
He gazed across the landscape and saw a small cluster of trees, he knew Sam was nearby, trusting the chiefs word that he would not go far, he headed toward them. The grass was dry now as it swooshed under his boots, soft breeze fluttering his hair as hard eyes studied with determination the trees before him.
A figure materialized as he grew closer, Sam's undeniable slouched silhouette as he gazed at the sunset was a sight he thought he may never see again. He slowed his walk and approached slowly, eyes waiting for a reaction from his little brother.
Within feet of Sam he came to a halt, silent as he let his brother lead them into the first words spoken to one another in over five years. Silence settled for a few moments, Dean taking the time to study his youngest brother. His hair had grown long, the thick, dark brown locks a mess atop his head. He had somewhat of a beard, obviously hadn't shaved in months. He wore no shirt or shoes and his jeans were cut into shorts that were beyond worn and dirty. His eyes though, were not the soft puppy eyes Dean had recalled, even though fresh tears still glistened, red and swollen with emotion, they were somehow harder, older then they should have been… and seemingly just different in the evening light.
"Ya know, dad always talked about hunting like it was so black and white. Like everything was so simple, and I never bought into his crap, because to me it wasn't. But these days… I just wish it was. I wish things were simple." Sam turned his eyes to his brother, desperate and pleading, but not at all Sam's.
Large and a golden yellow, they were that of a wolf.
Dean kneeled down and embraced his brother, not a word spoken as they simply rejoiced in being together once again.
xXx
Once settled in back in the cabin, the storm beginning to stir once again outside, Chief Raven began to explain what Sam was facing.
"You must realize what attacked you is probably the last of its kind, a true skin walker, not the diluted half breeds that dominate the full moon in our time. You see them in the old legends, but hunters think they are just fictionalized, because they have never seen one, but they do exist." The elder paused, waiting for Sam's reaction.
"So, it was a shapeshifter of sorts…" Sam sighed and ran a hand down his rough face.
Dean glanced at the chief, eyes hard and concerned.
"Does a cure exist?"
The man paused, small smile coming to his face.
"Are you sure that's what you want?"
Both brothers stared back in shock, unable to respond. The man rose, shuffling to his bookshelf and pulling out a worn Holy Bible.
"This is a chance for you to both escape, from the moment you rid yourself of the animal spirit, your paths will realign, and that may or may not be something you wish for." He sighed, gnarled hands flipping through the thin pages.
"What do you mean by that, old man? You ain't makin' a lick of sense." Dean dead panned, tired and agitated from the long day.
He paused for a moment then made his ay into the kitchen, not bothering to answer Dean.
"Great, a cryptic old man, just what we needed." Dean rolled his eyes and looked to Sam. His eyes had returned to normal, now soft and downcast as his thoughts troubled him.
"Don't worry man, we'll find something." Dean sighed and patted his little brother on the back, new clean clothes a small comfort to the young hunter.
Chief returned with two cups of tea in hand, giving them to the brothers he returned to his seat and watched them with warm eyes.
"Each belief has a different way of seeing the world. Therefore, the people in it have different destinies."
"I don't believe in destiny." Dean interjected with a hard voice.
The old man chuckled, "No, it is something we all deny, but as long as a higher energy exists, as it does for all cultures, it has to be. But what you must understand is a person has multiple destinies, pending on what they choose to believe in life. You two have a very… important but tragic destiny before you." He paused again, looking to Sam and Dean as they watched him with captivated eyes.
"What do you mean?" Sam asked quietly.
"Sleep now and you shall see… and in the morning, you can give me your true answer." He smiled and rose, heading toward his bedroom.
"Chief, why would you give us a glance at another destiny, pursue?" Sam asked, confused and worried at what was too come.
He paused and laughed, "Lets just say it will balance the scales a bit."
xXx
That night the Winchesters dreamed of unimaginable horrors, flashes of events quickly flew in front of them, knowledge they weren't supposed to know, worming into their brains. Jess dying. Yellow Eyes retuning. Dad dying. Dad in hell. Sam having visions. Kids with abilities. Sam dying. Dean selling his soul to save his baby brother. Sam coming back different. Dean trying to escape the deal. Hellhounds tearing Dean to pieces. Sam leeching off a demon for power. Dean in Hell. an Angel pulling him out, only to find they apocalypse was here. Sam breaking the last seal, Lucifer rising. Micheal. Lucifer. Vessels. The End.
The thunder rumbled as the skies fought and the animals hid.
xXx
Morning came bright and sunny, rays of light penetrating the curtains, bits of dust dancing here and there. Sam and Dean sat on opposite beds facing one another, silent as they thought of the nights visions.
"You think it's all true?" Dean asked with curious eyes.
Sam sighed, shaking his head, "It all works, all fits together to damn well.
"Guess we should talk to chief?" Dean rose and Sam followed, both heading into the kitchen where breakfast was cooking.
"Morning, boys. Sleep well?" Chief cracked a smile at his own humor.
They sat at the small table and ate in silence, both unsure on what to say first. Finally Sam worked up the courage to start questioning.
"How does me being cursed change things? How does me staying like this avoid all… that?"
Chief looked up from his coffee and nodded, "What you have is not a curse, but a gift, if you learn to use it correctly and accept it. This gift, it would allow you to both slip away from that destiny, forever."
"Jess, Dad, Dean and I, we would all live? No hell, no demons, no Angels?" Sam asked, the offer seemingly to good.
"Yes, but it would require Dean joining you. And the both of you finishing the changes."
The brothers paused, Dean's eyes narrowing.
"I'm not becoming a shapeshifter or whatever the Hell that thing is."
The chief gave a small, sad smile, "Even if it meant saving your father and brother?"
xXx
Chief stood at his porch watching the sunset, no storm threatening tonight as the clear sky radiated the warm reds, yellows and oranges of the sky. He watched as the two wolves, one white and one black, as they loped their way through the fields that stretched on and on toward the mountains.
They were free, free from a horrible destiny, and free to live life as they pleased.
The chief felt a whoosh behind him, he smiled as he knew all to well who stood there.
"Hello, Zachariah."
"Chief, I wish I could say it was good to see you." Zachariah replied lowly.
The chief turned around and looked at him in the eyes, the vessel an older balding man with light grey eyes that looked out cruelly at the world.
"If you and your friends looked past your own beliefs, you may have seen this coming." Chief grinned.
"You have greatly upset the-"
"Plan? Yes, I know. But who is to say your plan is right? The end of days, it's not what anybody wants. You best be off Zachariah, you have to go start over at making your new vessels for Lucifer and Michael." The chief turned back to the sunset.
"They were the last ones." Zachariah growled.
"Hmm, that's too bad." The chief said with a smirk.
Zachariah reached for the chief, but as his hands made contact where flesh should have been he found nothing but thin air, with a flap of wings he heard a raven laughing as it soared through the skies.
xXx
Sam and Dean sat on a ledge, a sheer cliff dropping out beneath them as they stared off into the skies. Sam's hair was still long and his beard still rough, Dean's sandy blonde spikes now brushed his eyes and his own facial hair was becoming longer. They wore only a pair of shorts they had snagged from a local store before trailing up on all fours. Their bodies were taunt and lean, skin glowed with a healthy tan and bright eyes watched in peaceful bliss as they watched the storm nearing them.
"Dean, why are the skies fighting?" Sam asked with a warm smile, bright eyes continuing to stare at the storm that raged off in the distance. Lightning flashed followed by the low rumble of thunder, the breeze picked up and they both pulled in the scent of coming rain.
Dean smiled back and looked at his brother, their eyes met and they knew they could never turn back. In this life they could fall in and out of the world as they pleased. For once, neither was burdened with the unknown, terrifying future and what it may hold. They chose where they went, when they wanted too and what they did. They relished in the paradise of the pure freedom they had been given.
Dean soaked all this in and simply replied, "They're mad two brothers got away, and are hiding amongst the animals."
xXx
LGA's Note
As of the late I could not get the idea out of my mind that if Sam and Deanhad known what was going to happen, that they would have done anything to avoid the future. This is that story with my own personal twists. Hope you enjoyed it, I would love to hear your thoughts on it! :)