^^ Figured it's time for some action ^^

Of Werewolves And Humans

Chapter 9 ~ Packing Up

THEN:

Dean closed his eyes again, feeling the body in his arms wrecked by sobs, shaking with hiccups – the bitter desperation and hurt flaring thru the human male's body. And the younger Winchester continued to whisper gentle words and soothing phrases into his ear until Sam's crying subsided, until he was too spent to shed tears anymore. Until his body gave into exhaustion …


NOW:

Dean carried the human into their bedroom, where he laid him – ever so gently – onto the bed. He brushed his long bangs aside and pulled the comforter over him. Sam wouldn't even curl up as usual. He just lay there on his back. His eyes closed. His breathing slow and deep. The wolf frowned, his gaze filled with sorrow and pain. It hurt to see his mate that way. It tore him apart internally.

His bond with the human was growing steadily. - With every day that passed.

The younger Winchester rounded the bed and slipped under the comforter next to Sam. He pulled him further into the middle of the bed and curled up around him, tugging him close. Wrapping his strong arms protectively around Sam as if he wanted to shield him with his body from every kind danger out there.


They SHOULD've been on the Salvage since a couple of days now. But Sam wasn't doing so well after his encounter with the Sheriff. To be honest – he was miserable. He hadn't wanted to remember anything about it. At least not his past. Ever.

And Dean had been so nice to him. Let him be. Let him spend his time in their room without pushing him. Without even try to lure him out for food. He brought it into the room. And even when Sam wasn't hungry, he ate – at least a little bit. Just because he wanted to get better. Wanted to get stronger, even when his stomach rebelled. Dean gave him time, stayed with him and wouldn't go to the salvage to do his work.

He was just there. And even when they didn't talk, and Dean just sat in the chair at the window, staring outside with a pensive expression on his face – he was there. Just for him.


It was a relative warm morning for the beginning of november, after it had rained half the night. Even birds were singing and the sun spread her warm light over the woods and the cabin, warming its surroundings slightly.

Sam rubbed his nose and yawned, shifting a little bit, stretching his long limps like a cat in front of the fireplace before he got comfortable again.

Dean had told him that they'd go to the Salvage tomorrow morning. That they couldn't stay in the cabin any longer since it would get too cold for Sam. But to be honest: Sam didn't care. As long as he was allowed to stay with Dean he'd go everywhere. Everywhere he wanted him to go.

The younger Winchester's hand rested on Sam's chest – right above his heart. He and his father had emptied the cupboards and stored most of their belongings in the Impala already. Dean would take them to Bobby's when he'd drive to the salvage to help him out with repairing a pick up this morning.

Sam and John were supposed to pack up their clothes and other belongings wich they'd take with them the next day.

„Good Morning.", Dean muttered under a yawn and stretched his muscles before he tugged Sam into his arms again, who nestled into them gratefully.

Sam moaned comfortably as respond, keeping his eyes closed. He didn't want to get out of bed – to be honest. It was way too cold and no one had made a fire yet. Besides: He was damn comfortable with the other man right where he was – so why leaving the softness and love he felt radiating from Dean?

Dean Winchester blinked his eyes open, as he felt long arms wrapping around his torso tentatively. Sam's touches sent tiny tingly jolts over his skin whenever he dared to. And these moments were rare. If only the human knew what effect he had on the wolfman inside him.

Dean brushed over his back, feeling the bandages thru the thin flannel on his back. „Guess you can leave them off.", he murmured into the sleep ruffled mop of hair. „They looked good so far. - Does it hurt anymore?"

Sam sniffed and shook his head.

The younger Winchester sighed. „I wanna hear you, Sammy. - C'mon."

It took a moment before a respond came: „No, Dean. They are just sore.", he answered hoarsely.

Dean nodded satisfied. „Good. - You wanna take a shower first?", he asked then. He had started to let Sam choose. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. Somehow Sam managed to turn things the other way, so that Dean just had to give up before he'd get a temper tantrum and felt tempted to bitch slap the human male.

„No, Sir.", he answered sleepily and nestled closer.

Dean frowned. „Sir?"

„I'm sorry … I'm not used to … I mean … you know …" He sighed and made an attempt to back away but Dean didn't let him.

„I want you to say my name, Sam.", he remembered him gently, „And look me in the eyes when you do so. - I wanna see your face when I'm talking to you."

Sam nodded and looked up, locking his gaze with the werewolf's. „Dean."

He smiled gently, bright emerald-green circles sparkling with warmth. „There you go.", his voice dropped an octave. „Just like that."

Dean took in the younger male's face. His big innocent eyes, flushed cheeks … his tender rose lips and the four days old scruff that covered Sam's face. He was the most beautiful thing Dean Winchester had ever seen. - The only thing he'd call beautiful anyway. Sam was the only one in the entire world, of whom he thought he was beautiful.

What being bond to a human was able to change … The younger Winchester had never been a fan of the human race. He had always called them uncivilized, animalistic douchebags on two feet. He had always wondered how they were capable of building houses, instead of living in holes anymore.

The growing beard had to be as long as his own by now. He hadn't shaved either. Just because he didn't want to leave Sam for just a second without really needing to.

Sam dove into the most green eyes he had ever seen. Deep as the ocean and warm as the sun. He wanted to touch him. Run his fingers over the dimples that spread away from the corners of his eyes when he smiled. Freckles that covered all over the male's face. Wanted to feel his skin under his fingers – just as when they had been at the lake, in the water. When Dean had held him in his arms – so close. Sam remembered how it felt like – an embrace so warm, so SAFE.

Sam blinked and tore himself from the thoughts before he'd do something that was so very wrong.

„So .. I guess I'll take the shower first than." Dean grinned and rose an eyebrow. He definitely had to get out of the bed – SOON. Before Sam'd notice how much he enjoyed to be with him. He cleared his throat gingerly and untangled his arms.

Sam nodded and his look drifted aside, staring at the closet beside the open door.


While Dean took his shower, Sam decided to get a fire going in the fireplace. He couldn't leave all the work to these men. Men who cared for him. He had to make it up to them – somehow.

So he went onto the porch. His breath evaporating in the crispy morning-air. The floorboards beneath his feet were cold and covered in white frost. Sam gathered some logs on his arms and stilled for a moment. - Listening.

It wasn't like he had heard something. It was more of a feeling, that told him to stop in his tracks and listen. - Listen if he heard something. Sam glanced up thru long chestnut-brown bangs. His look sweeping over the Impala and the wooden skirting. Then he took in the path, that was just broad enough for the Impala to get thru the woods without leaving scratches on the black beauty.

Everything was silent. So silent. His breath evaporated in front of him, rising up in tender puffs before his eyes. There was nothing that seemed out of the ordinary. Nothing odd he could've seen. And still …

Sam shook his head and went back into the cabin, kneeling down before the fireplace. An old zippo was there. He couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something outside of the house. So he glanced at the shut front door, his eyebrows furrowed. Dean had told him that they had killed them – all of them. That there was nothing he had been afraid of anymore.

So he shoved the uneasy feeling aside and ignored the twist in his guts and concentrated at the fire. A broad smile enlightened the human's face, when the flames started to eat their way thru the logs. Sam sat back on his heels and pulled his legs flush against his body, wrapping his arms around them and stared into the blazing fire. After a while he put two more logs into it and soon after that Dean came out of the shower. All squeaky clean, shaved and smiling with a happy song on his lips.

He looked at Sam, watching the light of the fire dancing on the skin of the human's face. The fire reflecting in his hazel-green eyes as he turned towards him with a satisfied smile.

His first smile since … ever. The worlds most beautiful smile and the cutest dimples directly in front of him. And those lips … not to mention those lips …

„Wanna help me with breakfast?", Dean asked – taking his chance to draw Sam further out of the darkness he lived in most of the time, wich seemed to be all present ever since they had taken him from the club.

And Sam nodded, still smiling, beaming up at Dean. - Just like that. As if he was a normal human under normal circumstances in a damn normal life.

He then followed the older male into the kitchen, where Dean got the last mega-pack of bacon out of the fridge and the last five eggs. They also had half a bottle of instant-pancake-powder left. Half a liter of milk and some coffee.

Dean gave Sam the task to make the scrambled eggs and bacon, while he poured a good amount of milk into the bottle with the instant-powder. Then he shook the bottle, well noticing that Sam was stealing glances at him while he did so.

Dean smiled at him and sighed happily. It was going well. It seemed like Sam was opening up to him, was getting comfortable in his presence. Just like it had to be among mates. - Like it had to be, when you were a member of a pack of wolves.

Sam laid two sheets of kitchen-paper on a plate and gave the bacon on it, eying it curiously. It had been some time since he last ate bacon. He swallowed visibly, his look glued to the plate, while he stirred in the pan with the eggs.

Dean glanced at him and then at the plate and back at Sam. A grin tugged on his lips. „Wanna have one?", he asked and nudged Sam gently with his elbow.

Sam jumped a bit and looked at him with big eyes. - Blushing deeply.

Dean then took a stripe of bacon and held it in front of Sam, looking at him inviting. „It's okay. - Take it.", he encouraged him further, waving slightly with the stripe, he held in between his thump and index finger.

Sam looked at him as if to ask if he was really sure. He had seen the men pounce on the meaty food like a pack of starved dogs ever since he was allowed to join them.

„Take it.", Dean said again.

And Sam took it. And he ate it slow and relishing. The expression on his face was mesmerizing – that much had to be said. He was kind of worshipping the food with his tongue and teeth until he swallowed it. And even after that, there was this blissful expression all over Sam's face.

Dean watched him. Watched him closely – and the pancakes nearly burned accidentally.


Dean went to the Salvage after breakfast and after he had removed the bandages from Sam's back and had rubbed the marigold salve all over Sam's feet. The scars there seemed a lot more smooth and the skin felt softer than before. - To Dean's relieve. It also looked more comfortable when Sam was walking around. The way he rolled off his feet with every step he made was more smooth now.

What reminded Dean to finally get a pair of boots for the human, in case he wanted to explore the yard at Bobby's.

While Dean helped their eldest pack-member with the pick-up-truck at the Salvage, John and Sam started to pack up the rest of their belongings. - Together. They packed their clothes in duffels and bag-packs and placed them beside the door. Then they covered the couch and the other furniture with big sheets.

John made lunch – soup out of the can. Tomato and rice soup to be exact. The older Winchester warmed two cans up on the stove and the two of them emptied the cans by drinking from them, so they wouldn't make anything dirty again.

John knew that Sam didn't trust him, even when he helped to get their stuff together. He caught the young human more than one time as he glanced at him warily, or eyed him with an unreadable expression on his face. He also was aware that Sam wouldn't turn his back on him and kept a healthy distance between him and John.

The elder Winchester turned down the water and electricity and brought their last bag with garbage behind the cabin.

They let the fire die and John got a blanket for Sam so he wouldn't get cold until Dean'd be back. The older Winchester had given a book to Sam in case he was bored, while he made the cabin clear for the winter on the outside. Meanwhile the human skipped thru the book of ancient mythology. - He stopped at a certain picture of a creature that was used to be called lupus versipellis. Sam stared at it for a long time and thought.

Most of the articles in the book were written in latin – all of them actually. So Sam stayed on the couch and checked out the old drawings. Though he always returned to the one of the werewolf.

John glanced at Sam with an uneasy expression on his face and tense body when he returned. Sam immediately caught the older man's distress and frowned at him.

„I want you to stay inside. - Until Dean's here to pick us up.", the older Winchester said, his voice beyond serious. It sounded close to an order and the human nodded. „Stay here in the living-room. - Don't leave it."

Sam stared at John with big eyes – sparkles of fear flashing up in his ever so hazel-green circles.


Somewhere in the woods …

A bunch of men and a woman stood in a circle. She talked and the other's listened. Non of them looked like a hiker, or wanderer. They looked completely misplaced, wearing nothing but jeans and shirts, and bare feet.

She snarled at the man left from her, shooting him a disapproving look. Her snarl was way too animal-like and so not-human at all. The circles of her eyes turned into an orange-red, glaring dangerously at her partners.

„You know Daryl's orders. - Kill the human, but leave the wolf alone.", she said with a low growl. „Use them." The woman rummaged around in a bag and pulled out three hand-guns. Three of the men took them. Then she handed the three armed men small boxes. „Use them if you need to." One of the man opened it and lurked inside – the box revealed three pole syringes. „Try and not create too much mess. - But do what you have to." She shared looks with everyone. „If possible let it look like an accident. - We don't need any hunters on our tails. Nor the sheriff. - At least until we're gone."

The men nodded and every one of them loaded their weapons with a syringe. The other two nodded, their eyes turning into reddish colors.

The three of them took a step back from the other two men and the woman.

„Go. - We'll met up at the farm again.", she said and with that their task had started.


John Winchester paced back and forth in the living room, his forehead creased and his eyebrows furrowed. He seemed more than uneasy now. He looked nervous and too disturbed for Sam's liking.

Then he stopped. His look sternly glued to the ground. His attention snapped to the window and the door and he cursed silently.

„Sir?", Sam asked hesitantly and rose from the couch, the book in his left hand.

„Stay put, kiddo.", the man growled.

Sam backed away a few steps, seeing the fire rising in the man's darkening orbs.

„When I say run – RUN.", another growl came over his lips as he looked at him. „No matter what you see. - What you hear. - You RUN, run as fast as you can and don't look back."

Sam nodded worriedly.

John glanced at the floor once more and then back up at Sam. He went to the mountain of duffel-bags beside the door and rummaged around in the one on top. With a sly grin he pulled a handgun out and eyed it for a moment. John checked on the clip and nodded to himself satisfied. Then he removed the safety and was in two long strides in front of Sam.

John fixed the human with a reassuring look and took the book away from his hand, replacing it with the weapon.

„Pull the trigger if you have to. - Just do me a favor and don't shoot at the black one with the brown eyes." He smiled cocky – just like Dean sometimes did.

... to be continued


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