Faith awoke with a start, as she tried to remember where she was. The undeniable feel of a man at her back brought everything into sharp relief. "Sam," she muttered as she turned to face the sleeping man. She would have found it embarrassing to wake up spooning a stranger, if only she wasn't freezing. She actually contemplated crawling on top of him in order to get warm, but the lure of building up the fire was stronger. While Sam made for a good heater, the parts that weren't pressed against him were simply too cold.
Careful to disturb neither man, nor Frisky who lay at her feet, Faith felt her way across the cold dirt floor, coming to rest only inches away from the fire ring that now held only coals.
She carefully fed the fire, until heat began to pour off of it. Confident that it was going good, she tossed a few more logs on, and took a moment to warm herself. It was while she sat there, her cheek resting on her drawn up knees that she heard a noise. For one small moment, everything Dean had told her earlier came flooding back and she had to bite back the urge to scream.
Before the panic could really get a grip, the more reasonable side of her nature exerted itself, providing her with a simple answer. Most likely it was Dean, she told herself. He'd probably gone outside to relieve himself. Buoyed with confidence, Faith moved toward the spot where Dean had been sleeping earlier.
Expecting nothing more than the hard, damp, floor, Faith nearly screamed when her hand ghosted over Dean's warm shoulder.
Another noise, this one definitely coming from outside the cave, held Faith frozen where she sat. Concentrating on the noise, she distinctly heard the sound of shuffling footsteps, followed by heavy breathing. A strong animal scent reached her nose, and causing her to recoil slightly. Unable to deny her senses, Faith began to shake.
Carefully, she reached out and placed her hand on the hunter's chest and nudged him.
One minute she was sitting by his side, and the next, she was pinned beneath him, something sharp pressed against her throat. So swift and silent had been the motion that she hadn't even had time to yell.
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For one beat of his heart, Dean pushed the blade deeper into his assailant's neck. Then like a blow, the scent of Sunflowers reached him, causing him to draw back and lower his weapon. He reared up above her, ready to ream her a new one, when he noticed her heavy breathing and wide eyes. Something was wrong, the girl was seriously freaked.
Before he could open his mouth, wrapped her arm around his neck and drew him in close, as if she were bestowing a kiss.
Instead, she'd whispered. So softly, he almost believed he imagined it, she breathed, "Listen".
Dean closed his eyes to cut out distractions, and slowed his breathing. As he strained, he caught the faint but distinctive sound of something large moving through the undergrowth. A snuffling sound, as if the creature was testing the air, came next.
Dread ripped through him as he realized just what it was that lingered outside the cave. Sam might have killed one werewolf, but he hadn't gotten the second.
Although he had trouble making out her expression, given the dim light, he had no trouble interpreting the shudders that were moving through her body. She was no longer lying stiff beneath him, instead it felt as if she were trying to burrow her way into his very skin.
He didn't want to tip off the creature, so he placed his cheek against hers and very deliberately nodded his head to show he understood. At his wordless confirmation, Faith's shaking increased, though she still made no noise. Though he hated to leave her, he needed rolled off her and grabbed the gun he'd placed on top of his duffle earlier in the evening.
Compassion rolled through him as he returned to Faith's shaking side. How easy it was to forget she lived in a world that depended on her sense of sound, more than any other. Lying there on the rough dirt ground, all alone except for the creature that she could surely smell must have been beyond terrifying. With a patience that went against his every instinct, he reached out and grabbed hold of the redhead's hand.
Though she still made no sound, she gripped his hand as if it were her only lifeline. Dean couldn't help but grimace at the realization that it was. Drawing her up, he shoved her toward the still form of his brother and pushed her down, until she was nearly on top of him. Then he forced himself to let go of her hand.
Without yesterday's storm darkened clouds, the full moon shone brightly lighting up the entrance of the cave. Just outside of the rough stone walls, Dean could make out a hulking shape. With his gun in hand, he began to ease himself around Sam and Faith. Though he didn't doubt the creature could clearly make out his outline, the monster made no move to attack.
In fact, if Dean wasn't mistaken, it looked as if the werewolf wasn't even focused on him. Without halting, Dean scoured the small cavern looking for what might be holding off the creature.
It was then his gaze lit upon Frisky. She stood just to the left of the opening, her four huge paws planted firmly in the dirt, her body tensed to spring. Her lips were drawn back in a silent snarl, and the moonlight glinted off her blinding white fangs.
With Sam and Faith at last behind him, Dean took advantage of the beast's distraction and fired, two quick shots straight for the creature. The blasts knocked the monster backward, but did not kill it. Before he could head after the werewolf, Frisky flung herself before him and darted out into the night.
"Stay put," Dean yelled as he followed the dog out of the opening.
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Sound asleep one moment, and the next having a warm body land on him, had Sam waking up with a start. As his eyes flew open, he saw Faith, her face pale in the firelight, as she stared toward the opening of the cave.
Sam turned his head, swallowing back the bile that flooded his throat at the motion, and followed Faith's gaze. There, illuminated in the moonlit night, was a duplicate of the creature he'd destroyed last night. His brother, gun in hand, was working on placing himself between Sam and the monster.
He knew his brother would do anything he could to keep the creature from entering the tight confines of the cave. They would all end up slaughtered, or worst yet bitten if they had to fight in the small area. Frisky stood poised by the door, ready to do her best to defend them all. Faith had yet to crawl off him, her elbows were digging painfully into his side as she kept her face focused toward Dean.
Sam felt as if he'd awoken to a nightmare. One in which everything he'd been trying to prevent in the first place was about to come crashing down. Now, as an added bonus, he found he was having trouble focusing for more than a second at a time.
As two gunshots rang out, Faith's elbows dug deeper as she jumped in surprised. Sam saw the creature fly backward, and watched Frisky lunge as she took off after it. His brother's shouted 'stay put' meant nothing to Sam as he unceremoniously dumped Faith off him and scrabbled for the weapons bag, dragging his injured leg behind him.
He had just about reached it when a wave of dizziness rolled through his head, making him loose his focus.
"Sam," Faith suddenly called out, with all the fear in the world in her tone.
With a groan, Sam answered her, "I'm here. I just..." Sam never got to finish his sentence as his stomach rolled and he found himself dry heaving.
The gentle fingers that reached out and lightly caressed the skin at the nape of his neck, were steady. "Just stay put,"
For a moment, Sam didn't think he'd be able to do much else, at least, until he heard his brother curse, long and fluently. The accompanying growls from Frisky had him pushing up from the floor with a groan. "I have to get out there."
Faith shoved him, easier than he would have thought, back to the ground and practically sat on him once more.
"No, I can't let you go out there. You're in no shape to fight that thing."
"Dean, Frisky," Sam reminded her.
Even in the dim light, Sam could see the tears that leaked from Faith's unseeing eyes. "Even she's not worth your life."
"And my brother?" Sam ground out as he moved to shift the redhead off him.
"I can help," Faith stated, her conviction coming through loud and clear.
Sam rolled his eyes at the woman's bravado and promptly regretted the action as he began dry heaving once more. "Guh," he moaned at last.
"Just stay down," Faith whispered.
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Even without the milky white glow that bathed the forest in light, Dean would have had no trouble locating Frisky and the monster. The dog was nothing more than a flash of silver as it darted in and out, snapping at the enraged creature. The werewolf seemed to have a healthy respect of her snapping teeth.
The malamute's saving grace was her speed. The werewolf seemed unable to guess where the dog would strike next. Bleeding from not only the two bullet wounds but also from half-a-dozen bite marks, it kept howling in frustration. The problem was, Frisky would soon tire, leaving her vulnerable to attack. Even just the slightest contact from the creature's razor sharp claws, or worse yet a bite would be enough to end the dog.
Unable to take a shot with Frisky in the way, Dean aimed his weapon and shouted, "Frisky down!" As he'd hoped the dog dropped where she stood, leaving the werewolf exposed. Without hesitation, the hunter fired.
This time, not only did his shot fail to hit the heart, but it also barely even slowed the creature. Before he could turn and run, the werewolf grabbed him by the arm and tossed him toward an outcropping of rock.
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Faith could clearly hear the battle that raged outside the cave. Twice she had tried to go to Dean's aid but both times, Sam had roused himself enough to stop her. He had convinced her to get his pistol out of the bag and had managed to get himself in an upright position. Where his arm brushed hers she could feel the convulsions that wracked his body. She was pretty sure he'd managed one nasty concussion. Sitting up, not to mention trying to focus, only served to make him nauseas
As she felt the tension slip from his body, she began easing away. She was only a couple inches from him, when a heavily muscled arm pulled her back.
"Stay," he ordered, as he had at least four times before.
She just barely managed to hold back a growl as he threw her own words back in her face. This time, Sam didn't release his hold on her. At first, she just assumed it was because he had wised up but as his body began to slump down, Faith got the impression he was simply out of strength.
Dean's voice ripped across her mind, focusing her once more on the fight that raged outside. The ensuing gunfire, followed up by a particularly vicious snarl from Frisky made it clear that the creature still lived.
Desperate to be more than a sitting duck, Faith decided on a new tact. She forced herself to relax, leaning fully against the hardened hunter. As expected, Sam took her sudden pliability as a sign of defeat and automatically eased his grip.
Faith schooled herself to patience as Sam's arm loosened even more. She knew he held his pistol in his right hand, and she very carefully began feeling for it. As her hands at last caressed the cool metal of his gun, taking in another small breath, she moved. Grabbing the gun, she darted out of his grip. Letting the sound of Frisky fighting be her guide, Faith made her way out of the cave.
As she slipped outside she moved to the left of the cave opening, the pistol a familiar weight in her hand. She suddenly found herself thankful that she'd spent so much time on the practice range. Target shooting had been a favorite pastime of her and her fathers, and after his death she had kept up her skill for no reason other than she thought he'd be pleased. Though her skill now depended on her hearing, versus her eyes, she was every bit as proficient as she had been before her accident.
Placing her back to the stone, wall, Faith listened as she never had before. In her mind, she began tracing the sounds of the fight. It wasn't long before she could ignore every sound, but the labored breathing of the beast.
Different from Frisky's quick pant, or Dean's shallow breathing, the sound rasped in and out like a saw, making it easy for her to track. She had no intention of firing into the mêlée, but she also refused to allow anything past her. If nothing else, she would protect Sam.
Then she heard an unmistakable yip, followed by a heavy thud. Tears filled her eyes and coursed down her cheeks as she waited for her beautiful dog to gain her feet. No matter how she listened, she couldn't hear Frisky's familiar pant any longer. Desperate to hold onto her control, she worked to convince herself that the dog was simply stunned, or at worst unconscious.
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Pain flared up his spine and exploded at the base of his head as he slammed into the rock. Dean slumped to the ground, gasping for breath. Unable to move, he felt the werewolf slam into him with a force that snapped his head back once more. The creature, all two hundred pounds of him, then dropped onto his chest effectively trapping him.
As Dean struggled to draw breath, the monster bent low, his hot fetid breath caressing the elder Winchester's cheek. Saliva dripped off its razor sharp teeth and ran in rivulets down the hunter's neck.
"Guh," Dean groaned as he forced his arm up under the werewolf's chin, holding off the powerful jaws that snapped just inches from his face.
Claws raked his sides, the heavy canvas of his coat the only thing stopping them from penetrating. Fatigue was starting to play a factor in the stalemate as Dean worked to maintain pressure against the beast.
Then, with a ripping growl second only to the werewolf's own snarl, Frisky was there. Her silver tipped coat flashed in the moonlight as she clamped her jaws around the brute's wrist and pulled.
Frisky tugged backward, jerking the creature across the hard-packed dirt. Careful to keep out of reach of the monster's claws, she pulled the beast well away from Dean.
Gasping for air, Dean braced his arms against the earth and shoved, gaining his feet in one pain filled motion. While his head pounded out a tempo to rival any hard rock beat, his chest throbbed to his pulse. If the blood that now saturated his shirt was any kind of indication, he could bet his brother's fine needlework was ruined.
Braver than he could ever have imagined, Frisky kept the werewolf distracted. She continued to rush the creature, coming at it from all sides. She was putting her natural born agility and strength to the test though, and he could hear that her panting breath had increased from the exertion.
Determined to help the dog, Dean gazed around the clearing trying to pinpoint the pistol that had flew out of his hand on impact. Unfortunately, the decaying leaves and scrub hindered his hunt.
It was then, he heard Frisky yowl in pain as the creature finally got lucky. The pain-filled sound, was followed by a thud that made Dean feel sick. Fear gripped him tight as he turned.
He had no problem locating the loyal pup. She lay unmoving and sprawled across the ground. The beast gave a triumphant cry and moved in for the kill.
Again, Dean scanned the area looking for something to catch the werewolf's attention. It was then he saw Faith.
She stood to the left of the entrance. In the moonlight, her pale skin rivaled only the moon itself for brightness. She stood pressed against the rock, Sam's pistol gripped in her hands. The barrel of the gun pointed toward the sky and she faced the direction of her dog.
Out of options, Dean shouted, "Faith shoot!"
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With Dean's shout, Faith felt her whole world shrink into a pinpoint of sound. No longer did she hear Dean's quick breathing, or the stream that was only feet away. She drove out even the sound of her own heartbeat pounding away in a tempo that was much too fast.
Like peeling away the layers of an onion, she worked until there was only one noise. The heavy ragged breathing of a creature that did not deserve to live. A monster that had stepped out of the pages of a book to wreak havoc on her normally staid life. A beast that had killed her only family.
She focused on that sound until it was her life, until it was a beacon that she couldn't resist. Then she aimed and squeezed the trigger.
The two quick bursts of noise that cut out all other sound were expected. What was not was Dean's sudden cry of triumph.
Faith was unable to process just what Dean was saying, all she could comprehend was that he seemed to think the threat was over.
"Faith, give me the gun,"
Sam's gentle voice reached out and caressed Faith, chasing the last of her strength away. His strong arm wrapped around her and drew her toward his chest. She welcomed his warmth and sank into him.
"Let go, Faith," he reiterated as he tugged at her hand.
It was only then she realized she still gripped his gun. Forcing her fingers to relax their hold was easier said then done. In the end, Sam had to pry it away from her.
"You're sure she got it?" Sam asked, his voice little more than a rumble against her ear.
"Yup, he's transforming already," Dean muttered.
Though Faith knew what they were saying was important she couldn't seem to focus on their words. The hollow ache in her chest was growing by the moment, threatening to swallow her whole.
"You okay, Sam, you look like shit?"
Dean's words, heard as if through cotton, began to take on meaning as she felt Sam slump slightly. Then as if his knees let go completely she was suddenly struggling to hold him up as his brother raced to his side with a shout.
"I got him." The elder Winchester said as he eased his brother out of Faith's faltering hold.
Sam's face was held a greenish tint and he was swallowing heavily. His tightly closed eyes, made it clear that his nausea had returned with a vengeance.
Now alone, she could hear Dean muttering from inside the cave, she began shaking with cold. Without Sam's strength, her knees buckled and she sagged to the wet ground. Though she knew when the time came she would go on, at the moment she couldn't foresee a future where she wouldn't desperately miss her companion and friend. Frisky wasn't just a way to gain freedom, she'd been a confidant and source of comfort.
So lost in her heartache was she that she didn't hear the slight whine right away. It was only after a scrabbling noise reached her ears that she fully processed what she was hearing. With Dean working to steady his brother, that left Faith, the dead werewolf and Frisky's body outside.
Fear clamped down hard on Faith's chest as she considered what it meant. Two werewolves had been killed so far, but who was to say there wasn't three. After all, it wasn't like there was a werewolf handbook. Everything was based on superstition and trial and error.
Maybe, her overwrought mind considered, there was a third and he was stalking her right now. Once the idea had taken root, Faith began to hear more sounds, rough breathing and a snuffling that made her cringe back against the rock. Her fear had paralyzed her to the point where the scream that was building inside of her couldn't get past the lump in her throat.
Hot breath caressed her cheek only seconds before something rough and wet ran up her face. Unable to hope for fear of crushing disappointment, Faith kept her hands locked into first at her side, even as her mind registered the familiar dog breath.
With a head butt that nearly knocked her over, a warm familiar lump dropped onto her lap with a weary sigh. The sigh did it, only her Frisky could convey such annoyance with a single sound. Church received that same sigh every time he insisted on giving the big dog a tongue bath.
"Frisky?" she whispered as she forced her hand to move.
The dog nudged her reluctant hand, gave it another lick, and uttered one more sigh. Faith plunged her shaking hands into the thick fur of Frisky's neck, and promptly buried her face in her beloved dog's shoulder.
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"'m fine, check on Faith," Sam insisted before he took a careful sip of the water his brother held out to him.
Dean didn't bother to answer his rock stubborn brother. As it was, it had taken all of his patience to convince the kid to allow Dean to play doctor once more. Sam had been lucky. As he'd drug his leg across the rock floor and then had pulled himself up by the doorway, just in time to see Faith kill the beast, he'd managed to rip only one small stitch.
The elder Winchester had considered it another lucky break in a night full of good luck. He had to admit, it made him more wary than usual. Good luck wasn't something that often struck and when it did, there was usually a catch. Afraid that Sam's concussion was the catch, Dean had insisted on getting the kid settled.
"Dean, whose blood's on your shirt?" Sammy suddenly asked, sounding more coherent then he had in the last twenty minutes.
"There's no blood, Sammy," Dean said as he carefully patted his brother on the shoulder and backed away. "Just the light playing tricks on you. Get some sleep."
Dean didn't give his brother a chance to respond. Instead, he gimped his way out of the cave and into the fading moonlight. He shot a grim look toward the man that now lay on the forest floor. The man, who looked like more like a lawyer than a mindless killing machine, would have to be dealt with. The problem was, Dean knew he was in no shape to do it right now.
He would simply focus on getting Faith settled and then he'd allow himself to collapse, after all, the body'd still be there come morning.
"Faith," Dean called softly as he turned toward the young woman that was holding onto her dog for all she was worth.
The redhead gasped at his call and looked up at him with tear-laden eyes. "Dean, look. She's okay," Faith sobbed as she tightened her grip on the dog.
Frisky, for all she was allowing the embrace turned to stare up at Dean as if asking for a little help. Dean couldn't help but remember the days when a young Sam would often cling to him in just such a way.
With a gentle pat for the brave dog, Dean eased himself down to Faith's level. "Hey there, what's with the waterworks?"
"Sssshhheee...I...sheee...dead," Faith stuttered as wracking sobs shuddered there way through her.
And in that moment, Dean did understand and hated himself for inflicting this kind of pain on the girl who'd saved his life. "Aw...Faith, honey, she wasn't gone. I checked on her as soon as the bullet left the gun. She was just a bit woozy."
Dean expected his confession to produce a number of emotions in Faith. What he'd been hoping for was gratitude. What he got was a poorly aimed blow that managed to catch him in the ear.
"Damn, that hurt," he snapped as he reared back out of the blind girl's damage path.
"I thought she was dead," Faith whispered.
It was then Dean truly looked at the green-eyed girl. Her vivid red hair hung in strands in her face, and her skin was so white, she resembled a corpse more than the warm-blooded woman he'd come to know. Even as he watched a fresh course of tears slid down her cheeks.
Faith sniffed loudly and scrubbed her sleeve against her arm, "I thought she was dead," she reiterated in a somewhat more normal voice.
Compassion swamped Dean, overriding all else. "Come here," he said as he wrapped one arm around her shoulder and settled her close. He sighed in relief when the girl made no protest, but instead snuggled down into his arms. A struggle wouldn't have been conducive to the pain in his chest.
"I'm sorry, it just never occurred to me that you needed reassurance. The son-of-a-bitch, just knocked the wind out of her."
As if to prove Dean's words, Frisky crawled closer, pressing her flank to Faith's side with a happy little growl.
Seemingly, content for the moment, Faith kept one hand on her dog, and one on Dean's knee. After the night she'd suffered, he had no doubt she craved physical proof that all was okay once more.
At last, he shifted slightly, the hard ground making him ache in all new places, and groaned, "Let's get inside. We'll catch a few hours sleep and get Sam home tomorrow."
Faith nodded eagerly and gained her feet. Hand resting on Frisky, she gave Dean a shadow of her normal grin and asked, "So anyway big hunter, how come a girl had to go and save your ass?"
Having already gotten flak from his little brother, Dean just shrugged off the insult and replied, "Next time you're free to handle it yourself."
Faith let out a low laugh and shook her head. "Next time, no way. I had my fill of weird tonight."
Once inside the cave, Dean moved to help Faith settle back in next to his brother. The girl's hand on his wrist as she stopped him, caught his attention. "Do you mind if I sleep between," she whispered, her voice barely audible. Even in the dim light of the fire, Dean could see the bright red blush that was snaking its way up her cheeks.
"Course," Dean replied casually as he positioned her between him and his brother, "besides I'd much rather sleep next to you than big foot over there. I warn you he kicks."
"Dean?"
At the question in her voice, Dean turned to look at Faith. She lay on her side facing him, her large green eyes roving even in the dim light. "Yeah?"
"It's dead, right? I mean like dead, dead."
"It's dead," he replied as he slipped his arm under her head. "That was a pretty good shot, you know. Sam and I should take you on all our hunts."
Faith laughed and replied, "Yeah, just point me in the right direction and I'm good to go."
Just when he'd thought Faith had drifted off, she asked, "Witches?"
Dean grinned and nodded. "Real and nasty, you do not want to piss one off."
Faith laughed softly and said, "That sounds like experience talking. Loch Ness?"
"Real, lake monsters like Nessy are found all over the world."
"Leprechauns?"
"From what I understand real, although we don't have them here. Oh, and there's no pot of gold, just a mouth full of teeth that are quicker to bite than a Chihuahua." Dean felt the lingering tension fade from the redhead's body.
With a huge yawn, she replied, "That's the way of the world isn't it? Sharp teeth and no gold at the end of the rainbow."
Dean couldn't help but agree as he pushed her tousled hair from her face. "Yeah 'fraid so."