Chapter 6:

Dean lent on the hood of an old ford, as he watched as the pack disappeared up the road. They were off to hunt down the rogue wolf; Dean was staying behind to track the hunters. Yeah, he was a clever wolf. Dean thought sarcastically. He was confident that the wolf would not be returning to the woods for a while, after been chased by the pack the night before. So, his family was safe for the time been.

After some snooping around the local motel, Dean quickly figured out that his Dad and Sam were staying at Bobby's. It had surprised him to see Bobby Singer hunting with his Dad. As the last time Dean remembered seeing Bobby, John and him had had a huge fight which resulted in Dean and Sam been packed back into the Impala and heading right on to the next town over. Things had change then, Dean wondered if his fake death had something to do with that.

Dean knew his family thought he was dead. Doc had told him that they had been hunting the same wolf that John and Dean had been after the night he was bitten. The pack hadn't been fast enough to save Dean, but they did kill the wolf. It turned out the wolf was an eighteen year old boy. The boy's body was so torn up after the fight that he was unrecognisable. Dean had been unconscious from blood loss, but Doc had later told him, that he had quickly made the decision to dress the body in the ruins of Dean's clothes. Doc had known Dean was a hunter. He had known that Dean stood no chance in the hunter's world that his only hope was with the pack.

Dean now knew that wolves were not all like what hunters believed them to be. There seem to be three types. The first was sub-conscious wolves, these were normally people who never knew they were werewolves, the transformation usually happen when they were asleep and they did not remember it afterward. These were the most common werewolves hunters hunted. It was a wolf like this that attacked Dean. The poor sons of bitches have no clue what they were doing they just acted on wild instincts, but that made them more dangerous. The second types of wolves were the ones like Dean. They were wolves only really in appearance. They could transform at will into their wolf form, but they retained their humanity. Most of these types of wolves lived very normal lives with no-one been the wiser. There are some like the pack Dean lived with that used their abilities to hunt down dangerous wolves. The final types were the rogue wolves. These were the truly dangerous werewolves. They could transform whenever they liked and they had complete control during the transformation, though they had no regard for human life. They were normally wolves that had gone crazy, or wolves who when they were human had no real regarded for human life to begin with. The wolf Dean's pack was hunting at the moment seemed to think everything was a game. He was always looking for the next hunt, the next challenge. They'd worked out that he rarely became human as he was stronger, faster and more deadly as a wolf. He was the reason why Dean was so concern for his family.

Dean headed toward the gas station. He needed food; his stomach was trying to eat itself. He also needed sleep. His arm was a constant throb and the bandages around his chest restricted his breathing. God, he would love for some painkillers right now. There was no point in Dean taken them though; his metabolism was so fast that they would burn through his system before having any effect. Grabbing an array of chocolates and chips, Dean then grabbed some water and packaged sandwiches from the fridge. Ignoring the look the cashier gave him as he paid, Dean headed straight for the old ford. He couldn't sleep in the ford, not with his ribs. So he headed back to the motel and booked in for the night. He had already eaten most of his food before making it to his room. Shoving another sandwich and chocolate bar into his mouth Dean made his way over to the bed. Collapsing into it he was soon fast asleep.

Dean slept right through to the next day. Once he woke, he quickly packed up and headed on to Singer's Salvage. Sitting in the old ford out the front of Bobby's place, Dean fought the urge to climb the fence and get closer, to see his family. He knew he couldn't though. As soon as his father saw him John Winchester would have to kill him. Dean was a monster whether he liked it or not. Nothing he could do would change that short of killing himself. Dean however couldn't just kill himself; it was the coward's way out. So, he had taken to killing as many evil sons of bitches as he could. If he died in a fight, well then there was just going to be one less monster anyway.

After having a very uncomfortable night in the car, and seeing no signs of his family, Dean had had enough. He'd have to be careful of any traps Bobby had laid around the yard, but Dean could not be this close and not at least see them. The fence proved a bit of a problem for Dean due to his ribs and arm. He healed faster than most humans, even faster when he was a wolf, but it would still be a couple of weeks before either healed completely. Very carefully Dean eased himself up the fence been very mindful of his arm; however it was the drop over that he was worried about. No matter how hard he tried not to, Dean still jarred his ribs as he drop to the ground. He spent a few minutes trying to breathe through the pain. God, he hoped the breaks in his rib bones were still in line. If any of his bones didn't heal perfect the transformation into a wolf was going to hurt.

As Dean regained his breath he heard the soft padding of paws on dirt. When he glanced up Bobby's Rottweiler was sitting staring at him as if deciding if Dean was friend or foe. It was a miracle the dog hadn't barked first, but after staring back at the dog for a while it seemed to decide that Dean was friend. The dog came up to Dean and began to lick him. That was one of the weird things about been a werewolf, dogs seem too automatically except Dean and follow him. Patting the Dean stood and gestured to the dog to walk on. "Lead on Fido." Dean told the dog.

The dog weaved through the old rusty cars easily. Dean followed keeping low and watching out for any traps. When they began to near the house, Dean spotted a tree that would give him the perfect view of the house but remain hidden. He quickly made his way up the tree and the dog settle down at the base. It wasn't long before he spotted his father. He looked older than Dean remembered, but still as scary as a grizzly. Dean smiled at the image of his father drinking coffee at Bobby's kitchen table. He was staring at the wood of the table in such a way that it should have burst into flames by now. Suddenly, John was up out of his chair and staring out the window. Dean tensed in the tree, had he somehow done something alerting his Dad? John's eyes scanned the yard; they paused for a second on the tree where Dean was perched, he actually forgot how to breathe, but then John just continued to scan the rest of the yard. As Dean watched, his father armed himself and came out into the yard in search of whatever had spooked him. Dean couldn't believe he had been so dumb. Of course his Dad would realised he was being watched, years of hunting had honed John senses. It was either you know when something was watching you or be dead. Dean had to be better so that he could protect his family from the rogue wolf.

So Dean became more careful about watching his family. He did not venture into Bobby's yard again. However, he did watch them at every other chance he got. He followed Sam to the library, and would sit in the back corner pretending to read, as he listened to Sam scroll through old newspapers. He would smell when his Dad would enter the library, returning to pick up Sam after he'd interviewed suspects or witnesses. Dean had no problem choosing who to follow when his Dad and Sam split up. He could almost hear his Dad, "Dean, look after your brother." So the choice was already made. Sometimes, even Bobby would come with them, but Bobby and his Dad could look after themselves, Dean needed to watch out for Sam. He'd even followed his Dad and Sam back to the woods a few times. That was when he was the most nervous. He would follow them as close as he dare, just in case that rogue wolf decided to show up. Dean still couldn't risk a shift. The bones in his arm and ribs were still not completely healed, but if his family were in danger Dean would willingly re-break his bones if it meant saving them.

This was how Dean spent most of the month, never really getting closed enough to his family to be seen by them, but always near them. It was five days before the full moon and Dean was on edge. He knew that his brother and father would be planning another trip to the woods soon. To have one more scout around before the full moon. If Dean was the rogue this would be when Dean would attack. Catch them when they would most likely to be off guard. So, Dean himself began to take more risk, getting closer and closer to Sam and John, trying to work out when they would be going. When they headed into the diner for lunch Dean hesitated. So far he had avoided place that would draw attention to himself rather than him just blending into the background. If Dean knew his Dad, then John would be sitting facing the door, and that he would assess everyone who entered that diner to see if they were a threat or not. Drawing in a breath Dean pulled his hood of his jumper low over his face. Keeping his head down Dean entered the diner heading straight for the counter. He felt his father's eyes on him the whole way. Well if he was hungry before he came in, Dean was definitely not hungry now. He felt his Dad's eyes still on him as he made his standard order. When his food arrived he went about pretending to eat it. Dean forgot about the cast on his right arm and only just barely missed sending his plate of food flying. As soon as he had a chance he was removing the cast, the bone was set and as long as he didn't do anything stupid before the full moon then it would be fine. He had only left it on this long because Doc had lectured him about not taking it off early. He was also afraid that Doc wouldn't just suddenly appear and drag his arse back to the pack.

Dean's ears prick up when he heard Sam talking. "So I was thinking Dad, that when we head out to hunt the werewolf again that I should act as bait. Then you and Bobby can pick him off. Because tracking him down last time did not work at all." Dean listened as Sam paused. Obviously waiting for Dad to yell at him, well John would've if he wasn't busy burning holes in to Dean's back. Dean squirmed under his gaze. Sam must have realised John wasn't listening to him. "Dad, DAD!"

"Are you okay Dad?" Dean didn't know what John's answer was to Sam because he heard no response. However, Sam obviously received one as he continued talking. "Well if we want to look around the woods again, before it gets dark, then we need to go now."

"Let's go." John's gruff voice echoed in Dean's ears. He heard the scrape of chairs as they stood to leave. Twisting in his chair to keep his back to them, Dean asked for the bill. He felt his Dad's eyes on him until he heard the bell of the door as they left.

Dean quickly paid, and then left the diner, just as he saw the Impala pull out of the parking lot; it was heading out of town towards the woods. He ran to the old rusty ford. Dean never thought he'd get a chance to join his Dad and Sam on a hunt again, they just wouldn't know it. As he pulled out on to the road Dean prayed that he was wrong about this rogue. He hoped that it had moved on to a new hunting ground, and that it wasn't just lying in wait somewhere for his father and brother.