A/N I have been given an extra special request to add more substance to this story, instead of just letting it be the let's-whump-Dean-fest that it could easily turn into (as much fun as that is). The gauntlet thrown, the challenge given, I cannot turn away. That means updates might not be as quick as I had been posting with the other fics, hopefully longer chapters and possibly more suspense and detail. So - as much as I hope you all enjoy it, I know not everybody will. Just please try to be constructive with the criticisms, I appreciate and welcome any feedback that helps me become a better writer. Thank you! LD

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Half an hour later we were back at the motel sifting through purchases and finalizing plans. We suspected once people were grabbed, they were being taken either to the surrounding forest or possibly the foothills of the nearby mountain range. A lot of territory to cover, but the three of us had planned on taking a day or two and each taking a section just like we had split up the interviews. Now all we could do was hope I could pick up a distinctive scent.

"I called a friend of ours, Bobby, to let him know what's happening. If he doesn't hear from us in four days, he'll call in the National Guard." Other Hunters. I couldn't suppress a feeling of dread. If we could not find him in four days and other Hunters had to be called in, my survivability would be dubious at best. But if it meant getting Sam and Dean out, I'd face down that round of Russian Roulette.

Dean was fiddling with the extra long lightweight leash, looking distinctly uncomfortable. He put it down and resumed packing his bag. He would be carrying most of the weapons, the two journals he never seemed to be without as well as a change of clothing for himself and Sam and a few other essentials. "Look...uh...Ren...I've never had a dog before. Hell, I've barely been around any."

I sighed. Again. Wondered how many times we were going to run widdershins around this damn subject. Took a deep breath and tried again. "Dean, I understand that. I also understand you've not been around any therianthropes. At least, probably not any that lived to brag about it." I was packing the extra large canine excursion pack as we talked and ignored the mildly wounded look he turned on me at that comment, "I am not a werewolf. I won't go all feral and stupid on you once I change. Think of it as closer to a shapeshifter, in that I will retain my identity within the other form. I will not be able to talk with you, obviously, but I will still be essentially a human being inside the body. Does that help?"

"Okay, but if you're going to be a human in a furry, four-legged body, why did we need to get dog food?"

Ah. Now I understood the utter confusion.

"Normally when I am in animal form I hunt for what I eat - rabbits, deer, things like that. It's the natural thing to do, it saves carrying things and, hey, it's great exercise. I will not have the time to be hunting and making kills while we're looking for Sam. Even if I did, once I made the kill, the smell of the blood would linger in my nose and throw me off the scent of Sam."

"Okay, but why dog food?"

I had to laugh. Considering some of the things I had seen him shovel into his cast iron gut, the thought of his culinary sensibilities being offended was just about the funniest thing I'd heard in a long time.

"Even though intellectually I will still be a human inside there, the fact remains that the body will be canine. Peanut M&Ms or trail mix won't really do it, would actually make me sick. Hell, the M&Ms would literally kill me. I can toss some dry food into a couple 2-gallon zipper bags and put them in my own pack along with your food and water, extra weapons, the collapsible bowl and whatever else will fit. Less for you to carry."

"What about beef jerky or something?"

"Beef jerky is expensive, and that is for you to eat while we're out there. Look, Dean, I'm not crazy over the idea okay? Kibbles & Bits isn't exactly my idea of fine dining, you can't even imagine how awful that crap tastes when your senses are heightened, but we need to move fast before the trail is cold. My senses will be sharper than the average canine, but even so once a trail goes cold it's gone."

"But - "

"No more, Dean. There are worse things."

Like whatever Sam was going through right then. I knew we were both thinking it, could almost hear Dean thinking it, so I didn't say it.

We were almost done stowing gear into packs and then Q&A time would be over, so I wanted to make sure all of the valid questions were answered. If I could just get him to stop fretting over food long enough, though I supposed that was one way to keep his mind occupied. Dean held up the leash and arched an eyebrow at me.

"Changing forms is catastrophically hard on the body. Once I shift, I won't be able to shift back for awhile without severe consequences. We will need to get to where he disappeared and try to follow the trail. There's something called a leash law." I smirked at him, waiting for the obligatory fetish crack. Turns out he didn't even need to vocalize it, his face said it all.

"Define "catastrophically hard"." He grimaced, knowing he wouldn't like the answer.

I hesitated, not sure if I should try to gloss over the truth or give it to him straight up. It was Dean, though. He would not have asked if he did not want to know. I took a breath and dove off the deep end.

"It's rather like dying and being reborn. Literally. As the body transforms from one shape to another, the bones will break and reset, joints twist and reform, the heart stops beating and starts again as it changes from size and shape to size and shape."

His eyes widened, "So you mean..." he stopped, licking his lips as his face paled. There was something in his eyes I could not identify without using my empathic gift and I did not want to waste the energy for curiosity. He cleared his throat, "So you mean there are times during the shift that you're technically dead? Does it hurt?" He flinched and I could see his knuckles were white where he was clutching his pack.

Maybe I should have glossed it over, but it was too late for doubt now. I wished I knew what he was thinking.

"Yeah, it does. That's why you're going to wait out here for me to finish shifting in the bathroom."

I could see the thoughts struggling behind his eyes as he watched me double check my pack, I just could not tell what they were. He was having some sort of inner debate, that much was clear. He finally took a deep, measured breath in and let it out.

"So you're going to change forms here before we go and I will sneak you out into the Impala after putting your backpack on you."

"Yep, and I know, feet off the seats! Don't worry, I'll get down on the floorboards in the back." I figured I would say it before he did, knowing how he felt about his "baby" and its "original leather interior".

"Actually," he seemed a little hesitant as he strapped a compact sleeping bag onto his own pack, "I was thinking I could just spread a blanket on the front seat for you. I don't think you'd be very comfortable on the floor back there."

I tried to cover my shock with levity, "Two words Dean: dew claws." I wiggled my thumbs at him and smiled.

"Yeah, well, like you said, it's not going to be just some dumb mutt in there. It'll be you in a mutt suit and I'm sure you'll be careful of my baby's interior. Besides, who knows what's on that floor back there right now and I am so not picking month-old take-out food out of your fur."

I laughed and dug the scissors and tweezers out of the first aid kit so he could remove my stitches for me.

"Okay, you remember what I told you about the shift? I'm going to do it in the tub because there's a clear liquid that is formed between the two skins and is sloughed out. There will be no disgusting "skin" to clean up, not like a shapeshifter, just the clear liquid."

"And, depending on how difficult the transformation is, there may be some blood so don't panic when I rinse the tub. I got it." He tried for irritation but I could tell he was itching to be out the door and the repetitive conversations were helping to keep him grounded while we finished the necessary preparations.

Five minutes later, Dean was walking through the bathroom door to find a grey and black wolf/German shepherd hybrid standing in the tub. I probably should have warned him what he would be seeing, but I figured he'd see the extra large pack I got and do the math. Any way you look at it, it was well worth it to see the look on his face.

He pushed the door open muttering something about cleaning up after fleabags when he spotted my green eyes in a massive head at about his hip level and pressed himself back against the door. I thought for a second he was going to run.

"Uh...Ren? Are you sure you're in there?"

The dizzying change from human to quadruped still not quite settled into my brain, I was momentarily overwhelmed with the urge to laugh. I breathed too deeply too soon and pain lanced through my chest. My eyes reflexively flinched closed as a violent shudder ran through me from nose to tail. Before I could stop it, a whimper tore its way out of me.

"Shit, Ren, are you hurt? Did something happen when you shifted?" His uncertainty instantly forgotten he rushed to the side of the tub and knelt looking into my slitted eyes, resting his hand on my shaggy head. I caught a glimpse of what I had seen in his eyes when we were packing, but still could not decipher it.

Whatever it was intensified when he realized there was actually a considerable amount of blood in the tub. I was thinking about how long Sam had been gone, wanting to get to him as soon as possible, and I rushed the change. Instead of a gradual morph from one form to another I had slammed into this form with the force of a car crash, the rapid change causing increased bleeding. I would be sore for a day or two, but I could not stand the thought of what could be happening to Sam with every moment we were delayed.

Guilt flowed through me and with it came the urge to whine again, since that's what canines do when in distress. I did not want him thinking I was distressed, but I could not exactly just tell him I was fine. So I did the only thing I could think of.

I licked his face like he was my long-lost owner come to save me from the pound and hoped it was enough of a shock to distract him for a moment.