Yantra

By paburke

'Verses: SPN (season 6-ish) and TW (pre)

Summary: What if Dean and Derek had the same tattoo artist?

Disclaimer: these pretties are not mine. Zia is.

*spn*tw*

"Zia! Zia! Light of my life?"

Derek didn't shift as someone called for the tattoo artist currently working on his back. He could smell the silver, salt and gun powder from here. There was the faintest hint of wolfsbane stale, but there.

"Neutral territory," Zia reminded him.

"Zia?" The hunter came into view, stopped and stared. Of course, he recognized the werewolf symbol being inked on Derek's back. "I need a fix up," he said quietly. He shook his head and pointed up and out. He looked ridiculous but was obviously referring to the full moon overhead. "Control is possible?" he asked. His face was white and he smelled of mourning.

Derek flashed his eyes at the hunter for his idiocy. Hunters were taught all sorts of stupid. This hunter apparently was willing to learn. He dragged a chair over to Derek and Zia. "How do you get control?" he demanded. He stared at Derek until the werewolf looked away first. Derek wished Laura had accompanied him as she had suggested. The hunter wouldn't have been able to stared her down.

"Training," Derek finally told the hunter.

"What kind?" he insisted.

"Lots."

The hunter rolled his eyes. "Fine. Do you have books, a school?"

Derek glared at the idiot.

"How about a phone number?"

"I am not giving my number to a hunter." Derek had learned that lesson the hard way.

"Say I find a newly bitten werewolf that doesn't want to be a crazy homicidal killing machine. Where do I send them?" The hunter's heartbeat was absolutely even. He meant it. He meant it. Even so, Derek couldn't trust the hunter.

"You can send them here, Dean," Zia told the hunter. "I know the packs that would take them in and train them."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dean demanded of the witch.

"You have other things on your plate than werewolves."

Dean didn't argue, but he still smelled hurt. Did he really mourn a bitten wolf?

"Go away, Dean," Zia ordered. "I'll fix your tattoo tomorrow. You're making my client tense up."

Dean obeyed because everyone obeyed Zia in her shop. Derek waited until she was done and wiping off the dried blood. "Where do you send them?"

"Thousand Islands."

To many, that was a type of salad dressing, to those in the community, it was a portion of the New York State park system home to the friendliest pack in the US. Laura and Derek were heading that way. Derek nodded and paid, giving her a large tip. He knew that Zia would use it to help the next wounded wolf in her shop.

*spn*tw*

Note: title from a type of tattooing used for protection against evil and to increase luck in Cambodia, Laos and Thailand.