A/N: I forgot to mention: I've never been to Jourdanton, TX before. I just picked a random name out of the Yahoo directory. I checked to make sure it was small, but for any misinformation I may have given, oh well. This is fiction. I could say grass was pink and unicorns walked around everyday farting on people to help them have a better day. But no, I'm picking a random town for a random hunt.
I don't own Excedrin, though the company did single-handedly get me through three years of college. I also hold no rights to the movie Cursed, so please don't sue.
Well, that's my rant for the evening.
There weren't any street lights lighting up the Thornton house, so no one driving past would notice a couple of seven foot dogs with bad tempers walking past the black Impala on his back legs. They might have noticed the peppered grey one on the roof, but the tree line by the road blocked the view. That is, they might have noticed, if the road hadn't been deserted by sundown. In a small town like Jourdanton, Texas, practically everyone that wasn't at the saloon was already home.
The door opened suddenly, and a figure darted out into the night. Simultaneously, the flood lights turned on, temporarily blinding the canines outside. It took the werewolves a moment to get a mental hold on the situation, and by that time, Dean was already digging in the trunk. One of the few pieces of input Dean had allowed Sam to make when he was rebuilding the car was a remote-controlled trunk-popper. Despite the growling, Dean could still hear Sam's nonchalant comment of "it could come in handy some day" in his head.
The boy's hadn't been forced to use silver bullets since they had dealt with that zombie about a few months back, so it took Dean a second to find them. Not that he didn't know where they were; they were just buried under some very sharp axes.
The second took too long, and Dean felt the car bounce under his hand. Hands on the clips he needed, he looked up to find a large black werewolf playing surfboard on his car. Dean cursed under his breath; looked like his baby was headed back to the body shop.
The lycan roared, and moved one massive paw to strike. Fully arched, the canned-ham-sized fist began its decent, just as Dean started to smell burnt fur. Dean watched in amazement as smoke turned to fire, and the werewolf jumped back to the ground.
Wasting no more time, he turned to run back to the house, trusting his brother and the twins to watch his back. As he ran, he pulled his gun out of the waste band of his jeans, ejected the rock salt clip, and slammed the new clip home. Tristan and Evee were on either side of the door, backs against the wall. Tristan was focused intently on the black lycan, while Evee looked out for more.
The peppered werewolf chose that moment to jump in, landing between Dean and 'home base.' But Dean already had what he needed. As it burst into flames, Dean took aim. Shooting it twice in the head, he didn't bother waiting for it to fall before doing a one-eighty and placing a bullet between the black one's eyes.
Dean ran back to the door, tossing a clip into his brother's waiting hands as he crossed the threshold. Next came Evee, with Tristan behind her. Tristan closed the door, and then sagged against it.
"Whew!" Evee said, "Let's do that again!" Tristan chuckled.
"Not me," he said, "I feel like I need to take a whole bottle of Excedrin."
"It ain't over yet," said Dean, checking his clip. He looked at Sam in silent communication. Sam nodded, cocking his gun. He turned to the twins. "There's at least two more out there somewhere. I saw one of them, but he didn't attack me. He's got to be the alpha. If we can kill him, we won't have to worry about the other one."
"Why?" Tristan asked. Sam opened his mouth to reply, but Evee beat him to it.
"The leader is the source. Killing him will negate anyone he's turned." Sam arched an eyebrow. "What?" she asked, shrugging. "Folk tales and the Occult? Ring any bells?"
"Oh, yeah," Sam said sheepishly, "sorry."
Evee chuckled. "Besides," she said, "you're not the only one who's seen the movie Cursed." The boys laughed.
As luck would have it, Tristan moved away from the door a mere two seconds before it was splintered into toothpicks. Standing in the doorway stood a massive werewolf, easily head and shoulders over the previous two. Tristan dove out of the way, slamming into the wall. Dean tackled Evee, who was standing right in front of the big lycan's path, to the ground. The wood floors caused them to both slide into the kitchen. Sam took aim and fired twice into the alpha's gut. In response, it backhanded Sam, sending him flying.
Tristan was now the closest one to the creature, and all alone. He concentrated on setting the thing's fur ablaze, but hitting the wall had made him extremely dizzy.
It was so close, he could smell the werewolf's putrid breath by the time Dean came out of the kitchen, gun raised. Simultaneously, Sam emerged from the living room. Dean's Shots hit first, this time tearing a cry of pain from the creature. Sam shot at it as it advanced on his brother, foam dripping from its mouth. Two sets of claws pierced his arms as the thing picked Dean up bodily and slammed him into the wall. Growling, the alpha leaned down, massive jaws open. Hot breath covered Dean. Sam was still shooting, but the werewolf didn't move.
The scent of burning fur and flesh hit Dean's nose once again, and suddenly the huge lycan let go. Dean sank to the ground, wondering why the heat of the massive creature's hot breath still choked him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Evee. Hands clenched, she walked slowly towards the demon. She was so angry it almost looked to Dean like she was glowing.
No, she was glowing! The air around her was so hot, it waved around her, making her seem almost transparent. It was then that Dean realized the 'hot breath' was actually the backlash of Evee's power.
The alpha lycan was burning all over now, his painful yowls drowning out even the fire. Every second he burned, bore of his body was covered by fire. Trying to escape, he ran to the window Tristan had broken with his body the night before. The silver must finally have been taking effect, because the creature couldn't seem to jump over the wall. The curtains caught fire as a second, much smaller werewolf entered the door. It sighted Sam and began to advance.
The sight of his little brother in danger finally snapped Dean out of his trance. He aimed at the one advancing on Sam, then thought better of it. Redirecting his target, Dean took aim and fired. Several things happened at once.
The alpha werewolf immediately stopped trying to escape, only to slump on the floor, motionless. A split second later, the smaller one suddenly grabbed his stomach doubling over. Yowls of pain melded into human cries as the smaller lycan changed back to his human form for good.
With the loss of an outlet to her anger, Evee let go of the power inside of her. Exhausted and overtaxed, her eyes rolled and she slumped to the floor.
"Evee!" Tristan yelled. He was too exhausted to stand, so he settled for crawling to her.
Sam slid to the floor, breathing hard. He picked up his gun and removed the clip, taking a look at the two remaining bullets. Growling, he looked up at Dean sharply. "We sent you to get silver bullets, man. These are iron. Damn it Dean, you could have gotten me killed!" Dean shrugged, both bleeding arms.
"Oh well. You're alive aren't you?" he said. He turned to look at the siblings. Tristan had managed to crawl over to Evee, and was currently checking her for injuries. "Hey 'Stan," he said lazily. "You mind taking a minute from doting on your wife and turn off that fire. I sunburn easily."
The fire the alpha had given the drapes had already spread to the loveseat and a rather old-looking rocking chair. Tristan looked startled for a moment, as if he hadn't noticed it was there, then he shut his eyes tightly and the fire slowly dissipated. He sent a lop-sided grin in Dean's direction. "You two are all right." He admitted. "I see now why she likes you." He then promptly passed out. Sam exchanged a look with his brother and shrugged. After a moment, he stood, groaning.
Sam – being the least injured, took charge by retrieving the first-aid kit from the car and dressing Dean's wounds. He made an icepack for Tristan's head, and took two ibuprofen for the back-pain he knew he'd have in the morning. Tristan informed him that the naked man in the living room was actually Jeff Thornton. He had no major wounds, and after about two minutes of trying finally managed to stand. Evee, suffering mostly from mental exhaustion, received ointment for a few cuts. She didn't wake, even for the parts that burned. He voiced his concern to Tristan, who only smiled sadly.
"She'll be alright tomorrow, don't worry. She has a faster bounce-back time from overdoing it than I do."
Sam somehow managed to get all four invalids into the car without incident. The Thompson's house was in no way suitable for them to live, and Jeff's house was taped off, so they were going to be staying at the saloon that night.
"Hey Dean, did we ever figure out why the werewolves started attacking people?"
Dean shrugged, and then winced as he upset the wounds on his arms. "Who knows," he said, "maybe some hunters got lucky."
Sam shook his head, "you saw what non-silver bullets did – they hardly even felt it. Something else got to them, Dean."
Pulling out of the driveway, and ignoring Dean's threats about the safety of his 'baby,' Sam just missed the figure standing behind the broken window.
A/N: Whew! Another action-packed episode! Geeze, why do I have so much energy when I write? I'm thinking of splitting this peice up into episode-like stories. The good side: all the little sub-plots will be neat and contained, and I can change the rating as Dean's potty moth becomes contageous. The bad side: the main plot (Evee's dream) will be spread through about three different stories, meaning the second story might look completely useless. Oh, I don't know. Tell me what you think!
If you're wondering about the unicorn thing, it's from a saying I fell in love with a few months ago: 'Life's not all rainbows and unicorn farts.' Just FYI, lol. God, I'm such a dork.