.-.-.-.Lycanthrope.-.-.-.

Summary:

If your brother had a vision about a werewolf attacking him, would you go chasing after it? Even though you knew he was still hiding something? Possible spoilers and brotherly angst. Plus Dean… well, just read and find out.

Disclaimer – Don't own 'em

Warning – Mild language at parts.

First of all – after a couple of reviews from the last chapter, I'm sorry for the evil little authors note halfway through the story, he he. I promise there will be no more – I have learned my lesson. :D Also – as this is a stand alone thing, it probably doesn't matter where about in the series it goes but I think I'd place it before Croatoan… if I reference any events in later episodes I'm sorry.

And now – sorry for the wait, my time has been spread between college and work and a couple of social drinks (consisting of me nearly carrying my friend home) but here we go…

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3. The hunt begins

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"So we caught a lucky break here. There used to be a wild animal veterinary practice just off the borders of the woodland. Closed down a couple of years ago due to lack of funding."

"Okay? And that's lucky how? We gonna give the werewolf a few shots or something?"

"Wild animal veterinary practice, Dean, they specialised in bears and things. You need cages for stuff like that and my guess; they're big enough to hold a werewolf too."

"You know, if you say that fast a few times, I bet you'll get tongue tied."

"What?"

"Wild animal vet – "

"Dean, shut up."

Dean opened his mouth to object but settled for a grunt instead, "Right, vets it is then but we'll have to check those cages first."

It wasn't a long drive and the place didn't look too abandoned. In fact, it still had old supplies locked up inside. Supplies that were probably out of date but still, it was surprising the place hadn't been raided. It was a relief that the larges cages were near the entrance, this would be helpful when hauling a heavy assed werewolf later. Dean snatched up a set of keys hanging on a wall and studied them.

"There's got to be what? Thirty keys here?" Dean sighed.

"Try looking for a large one, the lock on the cages looks like its needs a large sturdy key."

Dean tossed the keys at Sam, "Well that narrows it down by about half."

Sam rolled his eyes at the sarcasm lacing his brother's voice, "Yeah, well I bet some of them are just copies. They probably just couldn't be bothered to put them on a separate key ring."

"Lazy swine's." Dean muttered, poking at something on the wall curiously. It was small and fluffy and it was just barely clinging to the nail it hung on, "Hey dude, I think I found a rabbit foot. You want it?"

Sam looked at Dean in an irritated way and went back to trying the keys in the lock of the largest cage, "Why would I want it?"

"S'posed to be lucky." Dean shrugged.

"Yeah well, tell that to the rabbit." The locked clicked and Sam turned to face Dean, "Found it."

As Sam started to pry the key of the old style key ring, Dean threw the rabbits foot at him and opened the cage door, stepping in, "Attach it to that, it'll make it easier to grab when we come here."

Sam didn't have a chance to reply as Dean started kicking and rattling the cage bars, making more noise than thought possible.

"Pretty sturdy, but let's just hope it's enough to hold a werewolf." Dean leant back and pulled on the cage door, testing how strongly it was attached, "And where to now?"

"There's a forest ranger not too far from here, way I see it – he'll be able to give up some info on the animal attacks, confirm our suspicions."

"What 'bout the family of the attackees?"

"'Attackees'? That's not even a word."

"Sure it is. It's like employer and employee, you have the attacker and the attackee – they're the one's attacked by the attacker."

"Dean Winchester logic?"

"Whatever." Dean shrugged.

"Well, the 'attackees' families are probably miles upon miles away seen as the people attacked weren't local, I think the first one was a hiker and the other two were hunters."

"Probably thought they could kill the big bad ugly and claim the prize?"

"Probably." Sam agreed.

The next half hour consisted of Sam giving Dean directions to the ranger's office and Dean taking a wrong turn, twice. When they eventually pulled up outside of the ranger's office, Dean's secret hope of the ranger being a young sexy temptress in uniform were dashed as an old completely unsexy man, wearing the same uniform that should have been hugging the body of Dean's imaginary girl, stumbled up the steps to his office, cursing under his breath as he went.

"I think the scariest thing in this life is that we have that to look forward to."

"What?" Sam asked as he pulled himself from the car.

"Old age, man. Grey hairs and walking sticks."

"I dunno Dean, I thought I saw a couple of grey hairs on your head earlier."

"I wanna die young and sexy." Dean moaned whilst sending Sam an evil look for his comment.

Walking up to the ranger's office, Sam couldn't help but think of Jess, "I wouldn't mind growing up with a loving wife, you know, couple of kids and even grandkids."

"Yeah, you do that but at least they'll know that when their uncle dies, he'll come back as a hot ghost."

Sam ignored him, it was Dean's way of dealing, and he'd been at death's door so many times that Sam wasn't sure whether or not he and death were maybe even close buddies by now. He could imagine Dean and Death playing poker in a dim lit room, Dean with the widest smirk across his face and most probably, Dean being Dean, he'd be winning.

"Hey, get your game face on, how am I supposed to explain that dopey look on your face." Dean said, snapping his fingers in front of Sam's face.

Sam waved the hand away and knocked gently at the door. A string of curses came from inside and then an angry face appeared as the door creaked open.

"Yeah, what do you want?" The angry face said.

"Ranger Gibbons?" Sam questioned.

"What's it to you?"

"We're here about the recent animal attacks. Better late then never, but we're concerned about the wellbeing of the people around the forest area."

"Nah, you're just some out of towners come to pry in business that don't concern you."

"You're an ex-Marine?" Dean questioned.

Sam simply stared at his brother.

The old man raised an eyebrow suspiciously, "How'd you know?"

"You're tattoo." Dean explained, pointing at the wrinkled wrist. Sure enough there was a tattoo with the words 'Semper Fidelis' inked across it.

"You know much 'bout 'em?"

"Never really one for authority figures myself, but my Dad was a marine. He practically raised me and my brother like a drill sergeant."

"He tough on you?" The guy questioned, the door opening further and Dean took the first uninvited step into the office, followed shortly by Sam.

"Well, sometimes you need a bit of structure and discipline." Dean said, "He raised us good though."

Sam smiled, best way to get someone to divulge information – find common ground and Bob's your uncle.

"Well, if you were raised like that, you be serious about solving the little 'animal problem'."

"Absolutely. So if there's anything you can tell us, like where the bodies were found and when they were killed."

"At first, the animals were found deep in the forest but the people, they were practically on the borders, up at the north point. It's about half a mile up from the old vets."

Then that's where we'll go hunting. Dean thought to himself, and from the expression in Sam's eyes, he knew his brother was thinking the same thing, "So what about the when?"

"That's tricky, started a few months back and well, when animals get torn apart midway into the forest, they're not gonna get found for awhile, sometimes days, maybe even weeks. As for them people, they were the last that we know of, killed nearly a month ago. Them people were found the day after the full moon you know and we've had no attacks this month yet, wouldn't be surprised if those animals were killed during a full moon either."

"Are you implying something?" Sam asked, treading carefully.

"You mean do I think it's a werewolf? Nah, I'm not crazy but just because this town seems quiet don't mean it don't have its share of trouble. Personally I think it could have been devil worshippers, or youths – they're all the same I bet they got tired of sacrificing animals or whatever and moved onto bigger things."

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"I liked him." Dean said as he climbed back into the Impala.

"You would." Sam muttered, closing his door.

"Getting dark." Dean said, "You fancy staking that north point spot out. Sounds like the best place to start."

Dusk had already settled as Dean pulled up and headed for the trunk, "So, how do we get it to the vets?"

He pulled out two guns and a bunch of tranquiliser darts, tossing one of the guns as Sam along with some darts. Sam made sure he hadn't stabbed himself with the darts before he answered, "Either we shove it in the back of the car and before you start complaining about your precious Impala, I doubt that'll happen 'cause it'll probably be too big so, if we've got some ropes, we might have to tie it to the roof."

Dean grimaced, "Can't we just drag it along behind the car."

"Human life Dean." Sam reminded him.

"I know but… the car…" He couldn't think of a thorough argument, at least not one that would work on Sam.

Both boys were getting restless a few hours down the line, though it showed the most in Dean who had taken to drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Maybe we should roam the woods a bit, see if there's any signs."

"No. We don't know when or where it'll come from. If we just go wandering through the forest, it'll have the advantage and will probably just attack us."

Dean groaned and threw himself backwards in his seat in frustration.

"If you don't settle down we'll miss any give aways…" And before Sam could finish his sentence, he and Dean locked eyes; both of them had heard it. Somewhere down the border, someone had screamed.

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A/N – Who agrees with me that 'attackee' should totally be a word?