Judgment!
By No1butjoe
Disclaimer - I don't own Supernatural or any related characters.
Summary - He remains motionless on the ground, eyes fixated on the dirt in front of him until a pair of well-worn boots step into his line of vision.
He watches his body change before his very eyes. Muscles tense and ripple beneath his sweat-covered body as the air shifts, wind swaying to and fro lazily as if it can sense something's about to happen. His normally green orbs flicker gold, his body fighting with everything it has. He can hear yelling as a dull ache in his ears and it isn't until moments later that he realizes it's his own voice. No clear words are audible and, for that, he's grateful. A loud crack sounds throughout the clearing, forcing him to his knees as his bones snap, crack, and reform. Breathing heavily, sweat drips off of his bangs like a leaking kitchen sink, forming a puddle underneath him as his muscles stretch and swell, his arms bulging as well as his torso. Agony pours off of him in waves, but there's nothing he can do to stop it as his cry turns into something more primal. His spine snaps and lengthens even as his ears slowly move to the top of his head, where they become like small triangles, twitching occasionally as he listens to the sounds around him. Every breath he takes is like torture, but he withstands it as brown and black hairs appear to coat his entire body. As that happens, his face changes, being pulled out as it grows into a snout and mouth with razor sharp teeth that are grit in pain. His hands and feet turn into paws, sharp claws popping out and digging deep into the earth.
Gradually, the pain subsides, but there's a dull throb that courses throughout his entire being. In the puddle of sweat, he can see his own reflection staring back at him. The reflection of a large, brown and black wolf. His ears flatten against his head as he slowly, unsteadily backs away from the sight. In such a rush, he trips over his own paws and lands on his stomach in the dirt, whimpering slightly more due to the change that's overtaken him rather than the fact he was clumsy. So absorbed in the unnatural phenomenon, he doesn't remember he had an audience until heavy footsteps sound towards him. Still weak from the transformation, he remains motionless on the ground, eyes fixated on the dirt in front of him until a pair of well-worn boots step into his line of vision. He expects the angry words, the total devastation or even a beating or two. What he doesn't expect is the hand that gently slides through the fur on top of his head or the soothing voice that reaches his ears. It's not yelling at him or calling him a monster. It's comforting him, consoling him. Green eyes rimmed with gold slowly look up to see the owner of the voice, another whimper escaping him as he realizes who it is. In that moment, the fact that he's a wolf no longer matters. The fact that his body throbs even as he gently bumps his head into the hand no longer matters. What matters is the man now kneeling in front of him, smiling at him as if nothing has changed.
He's not just a human that was transformed into a wolf.
"It's gonna be okay, Dean. It's gonna be okay."
He's a brother.