Title: Hunter
Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: none
Summary: Sam's hurt and Dean hunts alone

Disclaimer; I don't own them, if I did, I wouldn't be here.

The winter moon, the huntress of the night, cloaked herself in silvery sheen, and Orion drew his sword. The hunters of the sky accompanied the hunter on the ground. Silently Orion transverses the firmament above, silently the hunter treads the firmament below, eyes everywhere, ears picking up any sound not natural, the one sound that doesn't belong, that will tell him where the creature is.

Dean leans against a tree, blending in with the shadows, breathing low, even. He had shed his heavy jacket, he was cold, but he wasn't sweating. His smell is minimal, so the creature wouldn't be able to easily track him. Two hunters on the ground, each hunting the other. The heavenly hunters watched over the human one, the one that belonged to the beings that knew them, that gave them names, Diana and Orion, gave them identity, and it was he they sought to win. But they would not interfere, and so the hunter was alone in his pursuit

Earlier he had been with another hunter, a younger one. That one had fallen to the wiles of the creature and had been injured. The older one had shot at the creature and when it ran off he got his sibling out of danger, then drove to the nearest hospital to deposit his precious cargo.

"Take care of him, please, he's been hurt."

"What happened?"

"Cougar attack."

"Names?"

"Mine is Dean Adams, my brother is Sam. Please, help him."

"We'll do all we can, will you be waiting here?"

"No, I have something to do, I will be back soon."

"Very well, how can we contact you if necessary?"

"Here's my cell phone number."

Dean knew Sam's injuries weren't life threatening. The cuts were deep, they would require stitches. Sam was semi-conscious by the time they reached the hospital and Dean was afraid he had already lost too much blood. Sam would need some transfusion, but Dean was positive he'd be ok. When they took Sam into the ER Dean left the hospital and went back to the motel room. He showered his brother's blood off, changed to clean clothes and went back to the woods. The creature would not be able to smell the blood and sweat that had clung to his previous clothes. Now, alone, he hunted the beast that almost killed his brother. Anger drove him, but not enough anger to make him careless. No, this animal was smart, very smart. They had underestimated it and it almost cost Sam his life. Dean would be more careful now, more alert. His hunter's instincts were peaked, he was at his best.

The hunt had started early that morning. They had headed toward the woodlands of Arkansas, looking for what, they weren't sure. Thinking Ozark Howler, dark creature, catlike. Five hunters had been found dead in the last year. Although the Ozark Howler has been reported for years this was the first time so many deaths had been blamed on it.

They had entered the woods that night, careful, looking for a darker shape, reddish eyes. An eerie scream had ripped the normal night wood sounds, the trademark of the Howler, but what had attacked them wasn't the large, clumsier form of the Ozark Howler. This one was lean and fast, and it went after Sam before either brother could react fast enough. Dean had shot at it, but its swiftness took it out of the danger path and it had disappeared back into the rocky woods filled with ravines and boulders that could hide any large creature.

Dean ran to Sam and in the moonlight saw the four large gashes the animal had left on Sam's chest. He quickly grabbed his brother and ran with him as fast as he could, hoping to get him in the car before that thing decided to take advantage and attack again. The way was longer than he thought, but for some reason the creature didn't follow them and Dean was able to get Sam to the car and to the hospital.

When Dean had told the authorities it was a cougar attack he hadn't been far from the truth. The vision of the animal he saw that had attacked Sam swam before his eyes now. It wasn't the Ozark Howler, it was a werecat, half human half cougar. He remembered the feline body, sleek with grayish-brown fur, and the large golden eyes that glittered with hatred. Very rare and often not dangerous, this one was unique in its habitat and its violence toward humans. And if Dean wasn't mistaken, it was female.

A sudden snap brings him back to the present, a soft breeze brings with it a faint musky smell and Dean realizes the creature is making her move. He crouches low, back against the tree, keeping to the shadow and half hooding his eyes to keep the glitter as low as possible. He feels the cat before he hears her and with a swift move rolls away from the tree, but not fast enough as he feels the burning heat of her claws digging into his shoulder. As he spins onto his back she has already disappeared. "Shit," he whispers. He's bleeding, giving her another weapon against him. His blood smell is now in the air and he'll be weaker. With a fast beating heart he slowly gets up to a crouch and crabwalks to the nearest boulder. He curses as he realizes that, with a creature that can climb trees and boulders, there really is no place for him to hide securely. Tearing a sleeve off his shirt he wraps it around his shoulder to minimize the bleeding.

The hunter waits again, his senses sharpening, adrenaline peaking and with a sudden move pushes away from the boulder turns and fires his gun as the woman-cat bounds from the boulder in a surprise attack. The slight scrape of her claws on the rock had given Dean the warning he needed. A loud screech tells him he's hit his mark. She's injured, not dead, it will take more than the silver bullet to kill her, but she's injured, which will make her more dangerous, but still the odds are a little better now.

Dean puts his gun away and draws out his silver sword. The pace of the battle will quicken as each side knows it must attack soon, before the advantage is lost. Each side is bleeding and both must move before the blood loss makes them careless and weak. Dean crouches in the open area now, eyes everywhere. He needs room to move and can't afford another surprise attack. The open area is lit by moonshine giving him a better vista, knowing he cannot hide from the werecat any longer. Then he sees her as she's coming at him, circling him in an almost sexual dance. He stares, she's all muscle and elegance, her lithe body moving with sensual, feline grace. Her golden eyes never leaving his golden-green ones, reading his moves, hunter understanding hunter, each knowing this battle will decide which will survive the night. The sword in his hand feels heavy and slick. Her leap is sudden and amazing as she closes the 10 foot distance between them with one astonishing move and the sword is knocked out of his hand as she swipes at him. He swings away moving fluidly then in one graceful move he rolls on the ground drawing the small dagger from his boot, and landing on his back faces her as she continues after him, leaping at him. Too late she sees the glint of silver in his hand and he sees her eyes widen in surprise. As her momentum draws her toward him he reaches up and plunges the blade into her heart, or where he hopes her heart is. She screams, a howl between a human cry and that of the animal she had become, and still she fights, slashing at his leg as he pushes against her, bringing her down and straddling her, keeping the blade in and pushing it further into her body. One of her paws rakes his thigh and Dean lets out a scream of his own as he feels her claw dig into his skin. But he holds on till finally her body goes limp.

He stands up and looks down at her. Limping to where his bag is, he takes out his lighter fluid and matches then goes back to her body. Not risking any chances he needs to burn her, make sure she is totally gone. He stares down at her again, God, she's beautiful, and for one moment he has the morbid thought of bringing her back with him and having her stuffed. With a shake of his head he pours fluid on her and sets her on fire. The smell of burning flesh and fur makes him gag, but he stays till there's nothing left and no chance of the fire spreading. Then, carefully and slowly, he picks up his bag and his weapons and limps painfully back to his car. Orion sheathes his sword and Diana smiles, the battle is over, their favorite has won.

At the motel Dean showers, and forgoing the numbing of the alcohol because he needs to go back to the hospital, he grits his teeth as he sews twenty-three stitches into his thigh. The shoulder wounds are minimal and have already stopped bleeding. When he feels half-way human again he leaves and drives to the hospital.

"I'm sorry, visiting hours are over," the night nurse informs him.

The look he gives her makes her swallow hard and she stares back at him, trying to decide whether to drag him to bed with her right then and there or go screaming for the cops.

"Please, I need to see my brother," his voice is low, he sounds tired but determined and she feels her heart skip two beats.

"Oh what the hell, it's late, no body's here to complain anyway," she smiles. "What is your brother's name?"

"Sam Adams."

She cocks an eyebrow at him and his widening smile brings her heart to her throat.

She laughs, "Well, he's in room 307, go on up, and if anyone says anything, just tell them Justine cleared you." Then she looks down because she knows her face has turned a flaming red.

"Thanks" said his gravelly voice as he turns to go and Justine feels like slapping herself for acting like a giggling teenager. She blows a breath out and hopes her shift will be done before he comes back down, because she doesn't think her body can take too much more of that guy.

Dean reaches room 307 and opens the door slowly. The room is dark and Sam is sleeping. From the conversation he had on the phone with a nurse earlier, she had told him that Sam was going to be ok, but hadn't woken up yet, and Dean felt good with that. He wanted to be at Sam's side when Sam woke up. He grabs a chair and sits by his brother's bed and relaxes for the first time that night. His leg is throbbing and he downs two pain killers, thinking he'll be here a while anyway. His face relaxes into a soft smile and he decides that, at least for now, life is good.

When the morning nurse comes she finds Sam awake and Dean sleeping in the chair by his side. Sam brings his finger to his lips in a motion for silence, and she smiles and nods, being very quiet while checking him, then leaves. Sam looks at his brother and knows Dean had gone back to the woods by himself and had killed the creature. He was going to talk to him about it, but that would come later. Right now, Sam was glad his brother was here with him, and alive. He smiles to himself, waiting for Dean to wake up, and boy was he going to hear from Sam about that stupid decision.