Once he reached his grandmothers little cottage, Castiel had spent most of the afternoon helping to stack firewood and make preparations for the coming winter.

Before leaving, as she always did, Castiel's grandmother tested him on his knowledge of the supernatural.

"Fairies?" His Grandmother fired off.

"Tricksters, scatter rice or sugar on the ground and leave while they are occupied with the task of counting" Castiel replied, just as quickly.

"How can a daemon be identified?"

"Black eyes".

Castiel's grandmother nodded her approval before asking slyly "What if you were to encounter a were wolf?"

This was a new topic which would lead to new stories and words "A werewolf grandmother? ".

Castiel had heard the local myths but knew better than to butt in.

"Surely you are smart enough to realise the local attacks are not the work of an ordinary wolf. A werewolf, Castiel, is a being that is neither man nor wolf but is instead a terrible mix of the two. If you have the misfortune of crossing paths with a werewolf then you get down on your knees because only God can save you". Castiel shuddered to himself remembering the awful state the bodies had been found in.

"In its wolf form the monster is much larger than ordinary dogs and wolves and is more akin to the size of a horse and can tear its victim to shreds in mere moments, in its human clothing it is much harder to recognise, but not impossible, for example, in direct moonlight the weres eyes will glow like a lit candle, they are also incredibly strong and according to some Lores, react badly to silver".

Castiel nodded to show he understood and spent the next few minutes being told many tales and Lores surrounding werewolves.

"A good few years before you were born Castiel, werewolves plagued your little town, killing animals and any who dared to wander into the woods, but when all hope seemed lost a large hunting party assembled, your father included, and drove the beasts away. Much blood was shed but not all the beasts died. Some believe the day will come when the remaining werewolves will return for their blood debt",

"Grandmother what would happen if you were to be bitten by a were?".

His grandmother smiled and continued with her tale "An excellent question my boy, but one I'm afraid even I am not certain of the answer to, some say you too become a wolf yourself, others state that you are cursed by a terrible plague that will claim you in days but all agree that a bitten man will suffer a fate worse than death".

After thanking his Grandmother, Castiel undid the latch to the cottage door and moved to leave.

"Be careful in the woods Castiel, the full moon will be upon us soon, hurry your pace so as not to get caught in the forest in the dark". Castiel thanked his grandmother again for her tales and set off on his journey back home.

/

On his trek home, Castiel retold his grandmothers stories to himself and decided he would've liked to have seen a werewolf and reminded himself to question has father when he returned home on what the hunts had been like. With no thoughts to occupy his mind, Castiel began to realise how bitterly cold and dark it had gotten and cursed himself as he realised he had left his matches at home. With no source of heat spare his clothing and still being a good hour away from his village, Castiel began to fear that certain pieces of anatomy may freeze off. Before he could work himself up, Castiel noticed a small fire burning a few meters to his right off the path. Ignoring his mothers warning in favour of finding heat, Castiel stepped off the path and cautiously walked over to the light.

As he neared the small clearing, Castiel noticed that a man was sat facing away from him and began to regret his decision to stray from the path. He had heard local tales of children being snatched after straying off the path and worried that the stranger would hurt or kill him. He quickly moved to turn around and had the unfortunate misfortune of stepping on a rather large, dry twig.

Castiel could've wept in desperation, surely the man had heard him and he was certainly going to die now. Large hands reached from out of the darkness to surround Castiel and he began to struggle against his captor.

"Let me go you bastard" Castiel yelled against against the man.

"Cas!?" The man above him almost yelled in surprise and instantly released Castiel. Castiel whipped around to face the stranger and found himself face to face (well, more face to mouth) with Dean.

"Dean?!" Castiel asked with the same amount of surprise in his tone.

"What are you doing here?" Castiel asked incredulously.

" I could ask you the very same thing, but I fear if you do not get in front of my fire you will freeze".

Castiel gratefully sat in front of the flames and moaned at the feeling of heat seeping into his bones. He reopened his eyes to see Dean smirking at him and blushed at the noise he had made.

"So, are you going to continue moaning or will you answer my question? Not that I mind the noises" Dean questioned smugly.

Castiel blushed furiously at Dean's comment "I am returning home from my grandmothers"

"so late?" Dean asked inquisitively.

"We were talking about werewolves" Dean's head snapped up and his eyes, which were glowing in the firelight, narrowed suspiciously.

"Werewolves?"

"She thinks the recent deaths are caused by one, and that they have returned to claim their..." Castiel paused "erm... Blood debt? I think". Dean nodded thoughtfully. Castiel, comfortably warm, moved to get up, "thank you for your hospitality but I really must be getting home".

"The woods are dangerous to travel alone, I shall accompany you to the edge of the forest". Castiel, who had enjoyed Dean's company agreed and they set off.

/

By the time Castiel could see his little village, he and Dean had swapped many stories. Castiel learnt that Dean had a younger brother, his parents had died whilst he was of a young age and that he lived alone in the forest.

Castiel, in turn told Dean of his older brothers, his parents plans to wed him off and his distaste for said arrangement. The conversation lapsed into silence as the pair neared the tree line and Castiel noticed a figure standing close to the woods and quickly recognised the man as as his father.

He sped up with Dean in tow but to his confusion his father rushed towards him with anger in his eyes. When he realised his fathers gaze was not directed at him he looked up to see a hardness in Dean's eyes replacing the mirth.

Dean's arm shot out to Castiel's waist, effectively trapping Castiel.

"Castiel get away from him" his voice stern "and you" directed at Dean "let go of my boy ".

Dean smirked and replied, almost casually in a completely different persona to the one he had used with Castiel "Your boy is he? I thought he was just a pretty little thing I picked up in the forest" Dean's grin was almost predatory. "But if he's your boy then that just makes things so much simpler". Dean's other hand moved to Castiel's neck, fingers digging in.

"If you harm my boy so help me I will kill you just like I did your parents". Realisation dawned on Castiel and he began struggle.

"Now, now. None of that, little one, the grown ups are talking", Castiel whimpered as Dean's fingers dug into the soft part of his neck but he ceased his movements.

"An eye for an eye is it? Well then, if I can't kill him" Dean trailed off.

"Don't you fucking dare harm him you bastard". Dean chuckled darkly before forcing Castiel's head to the side and sinking his teeth into the pulse point on Castiel's neck. Castiel let out a weak noise of protest as Dean released his hold on him, effectively dropping him onto the floor.

"See you soon, little one" Dean murmured as he retreated into the woods. Castiel's father advanced towards his sons crumpled form, he scooped Castiel up, quietly cursing the monster that had done this.