A/N Since I so evilly left the last chapter on a cliff hanger, and apparently most of you on the edge of your seat, I am going to be kind and post this one quicker than I was intending to...

Everything happened so fast that afterwards it was all a bit of a blur to Dean.

Sam had moved at lightening speed when he'd seen Dean fall and had caught him before he hit the floor, literally throwing him behind him to safety as he'd slammed the door on the creature. Sam had put his whole weight against it, feeling the door and it's frame shudder as the creature had thrown itself against the wood. He'd managed to turn the key in the lock and put the chain on and had stepped back, watching tensely to see if it would hold. After a few more thuds there had been sudden silence and when Sam had cautiously peered out of the window the parking lot was deserted. He turned round to face Dean, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, hunched over.

"I think it's gone."

"Terrific."

Sam heard the pain behind the words and hurried over, realising something was wrong.

"Dean?"

Dean looked up, straightening with a wince and trying to ward off the inevitable.

"I'm alright."

Sam took no notice.

"Let me see."

With a sigh Dean shifted round so Sam could see his back and heard his brother swear.

"Alright? That's alright? Dude, you look like you just went ten rounds with Freddy Kruger!" said Sam as he stared horrified at the mess that was Dean's back.

"I'm sure it looks worse than it is." said Dean, biting his lip as Sam started to pull aside the material.

"Yeah, and I'm sure you're an idiot." came the retort.

Recognising that Sam was worried and therefore probably on a shorter fuse than usual, Dean wisely didn't reply. Instead he sat still while Sam helped him out of his shirt and tried not to yell when his brother proceeded to wash the gashes with antiseptic.

To Sam's relief Dean was right, they weren't as bad as they'd first appeared. Thanks to the fact Dean had been moving forward the claws had only just grazed the skin, although that was more than enough in Sam's book.

"I don't think it needs stitching. I'll need to bandage it though, for protection."

Dean waved a hand which Sam took to mean he should just get on with it. Five minutes later he was tying off the end of the bandage expertly and Dean straightened up, wincing as the cuts began to sting and throb in earnest.

"Son of a bitch." he muttered and Sam silently held out two painkillers and a glass of water, which Dean accepted.

After he'd swallowed them he handed the glass back to Sam and stood up carefully, going to his bag to find a clean tee shirt. Sam let him do it himself, knowing that since there was no immediate danger Dean wouldn't appreciate any offer of help. Instead he cleared away the remnants of the first aid and picked up the bloodied and torn shirt off the bed.

"Well that's another one ruined." said Dean with disgust as he glanced over and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, and it's mine."

Dean frowned and then realised it was indeed one of Sam's that he'd borrowed.

"Oh. Sorry about that."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Forget it. I'm just grateful it wasn't worse."

Dean ignored the comment, not wanting to indulge in any post adrenaline touchy feely moments, and his gaze brightened suddenly.

"Hey, there was one good thing."

Sam looked at him.

"What?"

"The food's ok." he said, picking up the bag from where it lay next to the bed.

Sam stared at him for a moment, then shook his head.

"Of course, that's what really matters." he said and Dean just grinned at him.

Once Sam had cleared enough of a space on the table for them to sit down, gingerly in Dean's case, they turned their attention back to the matter in hand.

"So you really think the werewolf and the shifter are one and the same?" said Dean and Sam nodded.

"Yeah. It's rare, usually a shifter will mimic either a human or an animal, but there's nothing that says it's not possible for them to do both. This one must spend most of it's time as a human and then shift occasionally into the wolf at certain times of the month. It was only when I saw about it being a full moon and then tracked back to check the rest of the dates for the other attacks that I realised."

Dean chewed a piece of food and swallowed before speaking again.

"So when does the full moon end?"

"Tomorrow."

"Which means it will probably move on to the next town. We need to find out who it's mimicking right now and where it's holding Bobby, before it gets the chance to leave."

Sam swallowed some of his own food before tentatively asking the question he was sure they were both thinking.

"Do you really think it's keeping him somewhere? Werewolves usually just kill, they don't actually take people."

Dean shook his head.

"Maybe, but this one is no regular werewolf. You saw it, Sam, it's more human than wolf. Apart from the damn claws of course. But seriously, if it spends most of it's time as a shifter mimicking humans then it's bound to think more like us. Maybe it's not a full werewolf, not like the kind we're used to. You said it yourself it's rare for a shifter to be able to mimic human and animal. It's not like a regular human who's become a werewolf."

Sam's lips twitched and Dean raised his eyebrows.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just we have the weirdest conversations."

Dean gave him a rueful look.

"Yeah, well, it keeps life interesting."

"I'd actually like to give boring a go sometime you know."

Aware of the clock ticking they finished the rest of the meal quickly and as Sam cleared away the rubbish Dean stood up, carefully.

"Listen, you mentioned when we were out by the river about whatever took Bobby having a car. If it's shifting from human to wolf and back again you could have been right. I reckon whoever it's pretending to be right now, it's probably keeping Bobby at their house."

"But we don't know who that is. It's a small town but there's still a few hundred houses, Dean. We can't just knock on every door and say 'excuse me, are you feeling yourself and by the way, do you happen to have a hunter tied up in your closet?' – we might attract a little attention don't you think?"

"Cute. If you'd let me finish, I was about to say we can narrow it down at the very least. You said this thing has already hit the jewellers and the post office, right?"

"Right."

"Ok, so then what else is there that has anything of value in this town?"

Sam pulled a face.

"The bank."

"Exactly. I reckon that's gotta be the last job on it's list before it splits. So all we need to do is find out who works there and which one of them is the shifter."

"Oh, well, that sounds easy. You do remember what happened the last time we tried to trap a shifter in a bank?"

"No, it's slipped my mind."

"Dean, I'm not kidding! We really can't afford to get our names in the papers again, or to draw attention to where we are. That guy Hendrickson is already gunning for us, you want to give him another shot?"

"No, but do you want to let that thing kill Bobby before it gets out of here?"

"Of course not!"

Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly, ignoring the way the cuts on his back pulled.

"Look, it's not an ideal situation I'll admit, but we've not got much choice, Sam. Think of it this way, this is a small town bank. They're bound to have a fairly basic security system and not that many employees. Hopefully it won't be anywhere near as hard as Milwaukee. Ok?"

Sam sighed.

"Ok. So what do you want to do?"

"First we should check out the bank. If we can get inside we can maybe get a list of employees. Hell, if we can watch some video footage we may even spot which one it is and that'll be half the job done."

"Fine." said Sam, reluctantly. "I'll get the stuff."

For once someone must have been looking out for them and Dean was right, the bank did have a fairly basic alarm system. They were able to get past it with relative ease and once inside they headed straight for the manager's office.

Dean was checking through the files when Sam whispered his name. He went over to where Sam was sitting at the manager's desk.

"What?"

"I've found the video footage. It links directly into here, just one or two cameras by the looks of it." he said, glancing up from the small screen that sat on a table next to the desk.

"Great. Does it have everything from the last few days?" said Dean, peering over Sam's shoulder, and Sam nodded.

"Yeah. Just give me a second."

He rewound the tape to three days previous and then let it play. They both studied all the staff, hoping for the telltale flash of the eyes that would give away the shifter. Dean could feel his own eyes getting heavy and rubbed them irritatedly. His back was throbbing, his eyes felt like they had a desert in them and his head was starting to feel like cotton wool. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed for the next week but he had to try and focus.

Bobby's life was on the line after all.

Sam glanced up at him and gave him an appraising look.

"Why don't you sit down?" he said, standing up.

"I don't need to sit down." said Dean, ignoring the empty chair.

Sam sighed and decided to cut short the whole process, simply grabbing hold of Dean's shoulder and pushing him, gently, into the chair.

"Hey!"

Sam took no notice of the indignant protest.

"To quote you, I'm not hauling your ass out of here if you pass out."

Dean opened his mouth but had no counter argument so he shut it again. Shooting Sam a final glare he turned his attention back to the screen, not about to admit that it was nice to sit down for a moment and take some of the pressure off his back.

The footage rolled by slowly and they both had to blink more than once to refocus their eyes. Suddenly Dean spotted something.

"Wait, rewind that bit would you?" he said and Sam pressed the button.

As it played again Dean leaned forward.

"There! Pause it, Sam."

Sam did so and leant forward as well, studying the guy on the screen.

"You see it?" said Dean and Sam nodded.

"Yeah, I see it. Looks like our guy."

"Can you get a good look at the badge?"

Sam forwarded the tape until there was a clearer shot and squinted at the screen.

"I can't see the first name but I think the surname is Anthony." he said.

Dean got up and went back over to the filing cabinet, flicking through the folders before pulling one out triumphantly.

"Got it. Michael Anthony. He's the deputy manager." he said excitedly and Sam walked over.

"There an address?"

Dean scanned the file and nodded.

"Yeah. You got a pen?"

Sam handed him one and Dean quickly scribbled down the details. Putting the file back he closed the drawer and locked it again while Sam put the tape back to where it had been before they arrived.

"Do we need to wipe anything?" Dean asked as he came over and Sam shook his head.

"No, I checked. By coming in the back way and sticking close to the wall in that corridor the camera didn't see us. They'll never even know we were here."

"Come on then, let's get out of here before our luck changes."