Can we talk about how in love I am with this type of AU? I can't seem to get enough of it. This has no relation to my other werewolf!AU, so don't think it does. Two separate timelines/universes. NO RELATION. Set about season two time wise, but after their dad died, it goes AU. Sam never died, Dean never made the deal, none of that. The boys know Jo and Ellen and Bill isn't dead.

With that said, here it is.

Fresh from the desk of a twelfth grade nothing.

I own nothing cause I'm poor and I really need a job.

Dean never unpacked anymore. This was largely due to the fact that he never stayed more than one night, but also due to not having very much stuff. He had never unpacked much to begin with, but he had made the various motel rooms a little more homey. Now, he could hardly even bring himself to use the covers on the bed for fear of leaving something, some trace of himself, behind. He ran. He was always running. Running from his past, running from his future, running from everyone and everything. He knew he looked slightly different. He hadn't eaten properly in a few weeks now. He hadn't shaved in a few weeks either. His clothes were a bit looser, a bit more ragged too.

He knew that if he stopped running, they would find him. That's why he never stayed more than a night. He knew they wouldn't give up. Sam would be disappointed, but hopefully Bobby wouldn't let him pull the trigger. Bobby might be upset, but he wouldn't let anyone but a bottle see that. Ellen would probably be glad because now he couldn't get anywhere near her daughter to lead her into the life of a hunter. Bill's thinking would probably be along the same lines. Jo herself might be a little upset, but probably for her lost chance at being a hunter. Once again, Dean berated himself for being so careless.

Dad saves your ass and what do you do? You go and get reckless. You put yourself into bad situations and then get a bad outcome. You can't blame this one on anyone but yourself, hot-shot.

It didn't matter that he hadn't killed anyone. It didn't matter that he'd gone on a spree, killing all the monsters in sight, after it happened. It didn't matter all the lives he'd saved because he was still no better than the things he hunted.

Nothing mattered anymore.

His own father would have shot him as soon as looked at him by this point. He knew that if his family showed up, he wouldn't have fought back. He would have let them kill him. Okay, maybe he would have run, but he definitely wouldn't fight back. The only thing he had to his name was his car, his beautiful '67 Chevy Impala. That stood out enough for them to track him, but he couldn't leave her behind. He grabbed his duffle and moved to go to his car. He was reaching for the door handle when he heard a knock. He sat the bag down carefully and pulled out his shotgun. He went to the door slowly, moving to pull it open. He braced himself for whatever, or whoever, could be on the other side. He had braced himself for a fight, but not for the whirlwind of blonde hair and alabaster skin.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she demanded.

"Jo," he said her name non-threateningly, wishing she would just walk right back out that door.

"No, Dean. You don't get to push me away this time." She slammed the door closed and glared at him.

"I'm a monster," he said.

Broken. That's how she would have described Dean Winchester at that moment. He stood in front of her, shotgun held loosely in his hands. Moments before he'd been normal; he'd been as furious and strong-willed and powerful as he'd always been. Now, he looked lost and scared and hurt.

"I'm a monster," he said. She took in the worn look to his clothes and the despair in his eyes.

He was punishing himself. Even if he didn't realize he was, he was torturing himself. He looked like he hadn't eaten in a while and she found that she was scared for him. She reached over and placed a pale hand on his cheek.

"No, you aren't," she said.

"I am." He shook his head.

"How many people have you killed?" she demanded.

"None!" he said. His bright green eyes were wide and pleading for her to understand.

"So you aren't a monster," she declared. She pulled him close and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting her instincts take over. He went rigid for a moment before he gave in. He pushed his face into the base of her neck. She felt the silent sobs rack his body and felt the hot tears spill onto her shirt. He held on to her tightly as she rubbed his back comfortingly. He smelled like gunpowder, leather, and motor oil, just like she remembered. Now, however, he also smelled earthy, wild. She pulled him farther into the room, towards the bed. She had him lie down and she sat cross-legged, pulling his head and shoulders onto her lap. She stroked his hair as he surrendered to the physical and emotional exhaustion pulling his eyes closed. She leaned back against the headboard and pulled her phone out. The person she was calling answered on the second ring.

"H'lo?" a gruff voice answered.

"Bobby," she said.

"Jo?" Bobby asked. "What happened?" He had recognized her tone of voice.

"I found him. He hasn't hurt anyone. This is tearing him apart, Bobby. You and I both know he was never meant to live alone. He isn't functioning properly and if we can't help him…" she trailed off.

"Where are you?" She told him.

"I'm on my way." He hung up. She closed the phone and set it on the nightstand. She leaned down and kissed Dean's forehead. She pushed his bangs out of his eyes and took his hand in hers. She looked at the freckles on his face, realizing that he looked so much younger when he was sleeping. She supposed it was because that was when you couldn't see the weary way he carried himself, the age in his eyes, or the broken soul inside of him.

"You're not a monster," she said. "And I won't let anyone convince you otherwise." She stroked his dark blond hair as she whispered her promise. She took in the unshaven look he was sporting and idly wondered when he'd last shaved, or if he'd given up on that too. His arms and legs were more lean and muscular than the last time she'd seen him. She let her eyes drift over his body; over his worn out jeans and black t-shirt; over his worn boots and leather jacket; over his pale skin, which she didn't think had been so light last time. She looked at his face, which had twisted into an expression of guilt and pain. Yeah, this was definitely eating him up inside. She leaned back, resting one hand in his hair and the other holding tight to his. She closed her eyes and waited for Bobby to come. She suspected there would be more tears and hugging – probably more so between the surrogate-father and his boy. She also suspected that it would begin with Bobby nearly breaking the door down.

Bobby didn't disappoint her. Dean shot up at the first pounding 'knock'. Jo jumped up and wrapped her arms around his chest. She could feel his entire body tense up. She whispered reassurances in his ear to get him to calm down even just a little.

"Shhh, it's okay. Dean it's alright," she said. She managed to push him into a sitting position on the bed. She ran to open the door before Bobby blew it up. She flung the door open to reveal a slightly-pissed-but-mostly-worried Bobby Singer.

"Where is he?" Bobby demanded. Before getting an answer, he stormed into the room. When Dean saw him, he shot back up off the bed again. He couldn't quite manage to get the fear out of his eyes. Bobby started walking towards Dean, and Dean tried to take a step back, forgetting that there was a bed behind him. He fell back onto the bed looking alarmed. Bobby stopped walking and looked at Dean sadly.

"Aww, Dean." Bobby sighed as he looked at the boy. He saw what had happened to the young man whom he considered to be a son and felt like he wanted to cry. He stepped forward until he was right in front of Dean. He pulled him up off of the bed and into a bear hug. Dean was stiff with surprise, but quickly melted into the embrace. He held onto Bobby. He leaned his forehead onto Bobby's shoulder. Bobby rubbed Dean's back softly and was shocked to discover that Dean was trembling. He could feel Dean's ribs through the shirt – only just, but it still wasn't good – and Dean was clearly running himself into the ground.

"'m sorry, Bobby. I'm so sorry." Dean's voice was muffled by Bobby's shoulder

"Don't be sorry, kid. It's okay," Bobby said. They let go, but Bobby kept a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"So, ya haven't hurt anyone?" Bobby asked.

"No, sir." Dean shook his head.

"Good." Bobby gave Dean's shoulder a squeeze. "I've been doing some research."

"On what?"

"What color is your fur?"

"Mostly white."

"Show me."

"What?"

"You heard me." Dean sighed and stepped away from Bobby. He closed his eyes. The transformation took only a few seconds, but, for Bobby and Jo, it felt like it lasted for hours. When it was over, Dean was no longer standing in front of them; in his place was a wolf with pure white fur interrupted only by golden streaks. It had brilliant green eyes identical to Dean's. Bobby walked up to him and took its head in his hands.

"That you, Dean?" he asked quietly. The wolf, standing there patiently, nodded to Bobby.

"Open your mouth; I gotta check something," Bobby ordered. Dean did as he was told. Bobby looked closely at Dean's canines. Generally, werewolves had small pinprick sized holes at the tip of the canine. That's where their venom came from and that's what turns people into werewolves. Dean's teeth had no holes and were perfectly white (something that amazed Bobby what with the kid's eating habits). Bobby stepped back and Dean turned back into Dean.

"So?" he asked.

"You shift at will," Bobby stated.

"Mhm."

"You're mostly white."

"Well, neither of my parents was an African American."

"You don't have venom."

"I'm not Spiderman either."

"You keep your mind."

"If I haven't already lost it."

"You're too sarcastic for your own good."

"All a part of my charm." Dean grinned, but it was pale compared to his usual smiles.

"I think I know what's going on with you and why you're so different."

"What's the theory, Sherlock?"

"Different classes," Bobby said. "Like upper class and lower class. I've heard that referenced in books before, but no one's ever met a werewolf that can control itself; or at least never wrote anything down on it. Lower class would be the mutts that we hunt. Mindless animals that kill every full moon. Upper class would be like you, full control and an inability to infect anyone else."

"So why am I white?" Dean asked seriously.

"'cause there's gotta be a way to tell the classes apart."

Dean thought about that.

"Makes sense." He shrugged. Bobby sighed and looked at his boy again.

"I'm gonna go get a room. I'll pay for yours for a couple more days so you can rest up and get a decent meal."

"Bobby –"

"No, Dean. Don't argue with me on this," Bobby growled. He left the room with Dean standing there, still exhausted and trying to pretend he was fine. That was the boy that Bobby knew. The boy who always put everyone and everything before himself. Bobby shook his head because the kid couldn't see that he was still the same, he just saw himself as a monster. Hopefully Jo could remind him, or maybe teach him, that he wasn't worthless and he wasn't a monster.

Jo, who had been quiet almost the whole time, walked over to Dean now. She put her hands on his shoulders and directed him back to the bed. She forced him to sit down on the bottom edge and she sat down directly behind him.

"You're still tired," she observed.

"I'm fine," he said. She started to massage his shoulders, feeling the tension and stress build-up there. She smiled when he couldn't hold the moan in and it slipped out from behind his lips. She expertly rubbed away the stress and tension in his neck. After a few more minutes, Dean started to fall back slowly; he was falling asleep. She crossed her legs Indian style and let him lean back on her. He rested his head on her shoulder and turned his face into her neck. She took his large, rough calloused hands in her two small hands. She let go of his right hand and moved her hand to rest on his heart. She felt its strong beat under her palm. She loved that heart; the heart that loved his family so much, the heart that led this man leaning on her to do so much while only asking to be loved in return. She leaned her cheek against his forehead.

Bobby walked back to the room to make sure that the two young hunters hadn't destroyed it with one of their arguments – they had once had to be separated because they had already started to throw punches, although Dean purposefully hadn't hit back hard since he was raised to never hit girls unless it was self-defense. When he opened the door, he found Dean – legs hanging off the bed and practically laying on Jo – asleep. Jo had a hand resting on his stomach holding his hand and her other hand was on Dean's heart. She was resting her cheek on Dean's forehead and she seemed close to falling asleep. Bobby chuckled and turned off the light, closing the door behind him.

"Crazy kids," he said softly.

Dean woke up feeling safe and warm. He hadn't woken up like that in a long time. He had been pulled onto the bed so that his legs weren't hanging off anymore. He was also being cradled. Jo had wrapped her long alabaster arms around him and had moved him so that his head was resting on her chest. For once, he didn't feel the instinct to run away. He wrapped his arms around her waist. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this content. He breathed in her sweet scent (thank God for amplified senses) and smiled to himself at the fact that this tough-as-nails hunter used lavender shampoo. Before he could stop it, a sigh of content slipped out of him. He couldn't bother to be worried about it though, because Jo let out her own sigh and snuggled closer. He allowed himself to slip back into a deep sleep, feeling wanted and loved for the first time in a while.

Jo woke up in a tangle of limbs. Her arms were wrapped around Dean's torso, his arms were wrapped around her waist, and their legs were tangled together. He had nuzzled his face into her neck and was breathing easily. She ran a hand through his dark blond hair and just lay there surrounded in warmth. She closed her eyes and listened to his breathing and his heartbeat. It might have lasted a little longer, had the door not been thrown open right then.

It was thrown open by a very tall, very upset young man. Dean shot up, years of hyper-awareness kicking in. His lean, hard-earned muscles were tensed, an ancient instinct to protect his loved ones kicking in as he jumped in front of her. He tensed even more when he recognized the towering newcomer.

"Dean."

"Sammy." Dean's reply was choked. Dean attempted to step away from him, but Sam was too fast. In two strides, Sam had crossed the room and wrapped his older brother in a bear hug. Dean stiffened and attempted to push his brother away, but Sam refused to let him go. Dean gave up and leaned against his younger brother, letting himself be loved.

"Oh my God, Dean," Sam said. "I've been looking for you all over. I've missed you so much." The brothers let go after a few more seconds.

"Bobby told me everything," Sam told him, "so don't even think about leaving me behind."

"I just –" Dean started. "I just didn't know how to tell you." Dean looked at the ground so that he didn't have to see his brother's disappointment.

"Dean, I understand. Just don't run off without another word ever again. It's really annoying." Dean looked up and, after looking at Sam for a few seconds, he smiled.

"Alright."

"So are you guys together now or…what?" Sam asked. Jo and Dean both blushed, which was proof enough for Sam. The younger Winchester had always sensed that there was something between them, and it looked like they finally realized it.

"I'll take that as a yes." Sam grinned.

"Bobby's down the hall," Dean said. The two brothers had a silent conversation with shared looks.

"I'll be down the hall if you need me," Sam said.

"Yes you will," Dean agreed. Sam grinned and closed the door behind him. Dean stood there for a second, just letting recent events wash over him. Jo walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest. He sighed and couldn't keep the smile off of his face. He thought about how he hadn't smiled this much in a long time as he relaxed and spun around to wrap his own arms around her. He kissed her forehead softly. She closed her eyes and leaned into his broad chest.

"Tell me why we didn't do this sooner?" she asked.

"'cause I was too scared," he said softly.

"Now you're not?"

"Now I'm not," he confirmed. "Or at least, I'm not as scared."

"I'll take it," Jo said. She kissed his cheek and felt him blush.

"You really don't mind me being…this?" he asked.

"I really don't," she assured him. "You know, this could really help us out." She grinned.

"How?"

"You could sniff out the monsters for us, dig up bones, you know, that kind of thing." She grinned mischievously at him.

"I hate you."

"You love me and you know it."

"Yeah, sure," he said sarcastically.

"You do."

"Yeah, I do," he admitted. He let her go and went back to the bed. He collapsed on it with a little moan.

"How long has it been since you had a good night's sleep?" she chuckled.

"Too long," he groaned. His eyes were closed and his breathing deepened within seconds. She smiled and lay down beside him. He sighed and she wrapped her arms around him. She kissed his forehead before she closed her eyes and let herself drift off. She told herself that she would buy him the biggest bacon cheeseburger she could find in the morning as an apology for not finding him sooner.

Her eyes cut to the window as she heard barking. Ellen laughed as Jo ran to the door. Bobby just stood there at the bar smirking while he drank his beer. Jo threw open the door to a mostly white wolf sitting patiently in front of her. She stepped back as the wolf walked in, shifting as he did so. He wrapped her in a hug and kissed her cheek. His skin was hot to the touch and he was slightly out of breath. She grinned as she slipped her hands into the back pockets of his jeans. He was barefoot and bare chested.

"Well, it's good to see you, too," he said, grinning widely. His eyes still had that wild look to them, the one that came with the fur and drove her nuts.

"It's been a while since I last saw you," she told him.

"Jo," he said, running his knuckles along her jawline, "I was gone for a week."

"But it felt like forever," she purred, leaning her head against his chest.

"What?" He laughed. "Who are you and what have you done with the stubborn, independent, badass, that goes by the name of Joanna Beth Harvelle?"

"I can't be a little needy every once in a while?"

"I've never seen this side of you," he teased playfully. She narrowed her eyes and reached her head up, capturing his lips with hers. She ended the kiss by biting his bottom lip. This elicited a small growl from his throat.

"If that makes you growl, I have something that'll really turn you on," she told him, relinquishing his lips.

"Really?" he asked, suspicious of the mischievous glint in her eyes. She nodded. She pulled his head down so that she could whisper in his ear.

"I have some double bacon cheeseburgers in the fridge just waiting for us next to a couple of cold ones." He groaned and closed his eyes.

"Good God, woman."

"You gonna come or just stand there drooling?" she asked.

"Oh, I'm coming." She laughed and pulled away from him, heading towards the kitchen. He followed behind her, laughing as she threw a t-shirt (one of his own that he had left here amongst other belongings) at him. She had just picked up the burgers and hadn't even closed the door when two strong arms wrapped around her and took the box from her hands.

"Hey!"

"Sorry, sweetheart, I'm starving." He kissed her cheek as she tried her best not to laugh; it would only encourage him. Instead, she just stole a slice of bacon off the burger and caused him to make a little sound of discontent. She was just thankful that he didn't actually say anything with his mouth full – she had been training him on how to act in public and proved that training a dog is easier than training a man. She left Dean with the burgers, but didn't tell him about the pie in the fridge. She went into the next room to call Sam, who was up at Bobby's reading some of the new texts Bobby had acquired, and tell him that Dean was home safe from his hunt. He laughed when she told him that Dean was too busy stuffing his face to talk. After she hung up, she went back to the kitchen and found Dean about to grab a beer.

She jumped onto his back, wrapping her legs around his waist. She leaned down and kissed his cheek, feeling his scruff against her lips. He grinned. She let go and he turned around to face her. She let out a little yelp as he picked her up and set her on the counter. He tossed her a mischievous smile as he looked up at her. She ran a hand through his golden-brown hair before she took his face in her hands. She pressed her lips against his. When she pulled back, they were both gasping. He quickly recaptured her lips and kissed her fervently.

"I. Love. You." He punctuated each word with a kiss.

"I love you, too," she whispered. She leaned her forehead against his and closed her eyes, breathing in his familiar scent of wind and earth. He lifted her up off the counter and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried her down the hallway to her room, where he set her down on the bed. He sat down beside her and she leaned close. Had it been any other guy, she would have been nervous about him being so close to her in her room. But this was Dean, the man who made her carry a silver knife all the time and who made her sleep with one nearby whenever he stayed the night at the roadhouse – even if he was in a different room from her. She knew that he didn't trust himself not to hurt her, even though she trusted him with all that she was. She moved and lay down, resting her feet in his lap. He untied and pulled off her sneakers, setting the shoes on the floor at the foot of the bed. She felt him start massaging her feet and she sighed.

"You're amazing, you know that?" she told him. She could almost hear him grinning at her. After she was almost asleep, he stopped and lay down next to her. She felt his arms wrap around her and she burrowed into his broad chest. He kissed her temple and she fell asleep to the strong beating of his heart and the soothing sound of his low, slow breaths. She relaxed completely with his warmth and love surrounding her.

FIN