Sam's paws propelled him across the hard packed hirt and dead pine needles. He skidded to a halt before lifting his nose and sniffing the air. He hoped Dean wouldn't come after him, but it was unlikely.

The winds blew through the trees and Sam thought he heard the end of a whine, and he took off.

He froze when he came across a large clearing. There were about five wolves standing there. One, he saw, was Sheila, and he quickly trotted to her side. She nudged him gently.

Sam recognized the alpha. He was large, with thick black fur and black eyes. He had thick muscles and powerful jaws. Sam whined questioningly, not sure why they were there.

Sheila nudged him again, this time harder, as of telling him to listen. Sam turned his gaze back to the alpha and saw he was shaking. But not from fear. From anger. He barked, and the tone rattled Sam's ones with the message.

Danger.

A wolf yelped and stumbled, something silver embedded in it's tan flank. The alpha snarled, hackles up and teeth bared, saliva dripping from his jaws. Sheila growled, muscles trembling with adrenaline.

Sam backpedaled, head turning, trying to see where the dart came from.

Sheila squeaked as another buried itself in her leg. She shook it, trying to get it out, but the drug was already at work, making her stumble, then finally fall.

The wolves were falling quickly, and Sam didn't know what to do. He had only met them and he wasn't even sure where they were, what the point of any of this was. But then he remembered something.

More, someone. Dean.

He tilted his head back and let out a shrill keen, praying to whatever higher power was there that Dean stayed away.

Something shiny sailed past Sam's ear and he flinched back, his paws scrabbling at the dirt.

Then something sharp hit him in the chest. He tried to look down, but he couldn't see it. His vision blurred and he managed to get into the trees before he collasped, his last thought on his brother.

Sam opened his eyes to see the ceiling of the motel room. He frowned. That wasn't right.

"Sam? You awake?" A sharp retort was on the tip of his tongue, but Sam swallowed it. Now wasn't the time to be a smart ass. He sat up, then had to blink several times as the room wobbled.

Suddenly, Dean was right there in front of his face. "Take it easy, Sam." But Sam wasn't listening, because there was something important. Very important, and he had to remember. Why couldn't he remember?

"Dean?" he croaked. Dean shifted forward, noting how his brother's eyes were glazed with the remainders of the drug. "Yeah, Sam."

Sam reached up to rub the heel of his hand in his eyes. "What happened?" he asked in a breath no louder than a whisper. Dean frowned, tongue darting out to moisten his lips.

"I found you in the woods, a dart sticking out of you..."

Anything else was lost as the previous night's events flooded his mind.

Fear. What do I do? What's going on? I'm scared. Fear. What do I do? Dean! Stay away. What- Pain. Confusion. Help! Panic. So much fear...Dean..?

Sam's head shot up. "Where are they?" Fear coiled in his gut.

Dean's head titled to the side, confusion written on his features. "Sam-"

"No." Panic flooded through his system and he propelled himself out of bed, sheets scraping roughly on the back of his legs. When he got onto his feet, the room titled, and his feet twisted in a vain attempt to keep him upright.

"Whoa! Sam, stop! Who are you looking for?"

Sam felt hands grab his shoulders, one hand gently pulling him arm to turn him. Since he was still weak it wasn't that dificult.

"The others. Sheila. The other wolves. We have to find them, Dean."

Dean frowned, pupils blown wide with confusion and fear. "Sam, what other wolves? In the woods?"

Sam nodded. "Yes. Someone was shooting at us, specifically to knock us out and we have to find them. Please?" he begged.

Dean knew Sam didn't beg. "You're going to turn tonight," he said. Sam blinked. "And? I can use my senses to track the wolves to wherever they were taken."

With a sigh, Dean relented. "Fine."

Sam moved through the forest with an unnatural grace. Occasionally he would pause and close his eyes before inhaling deeply. Then his eyes would snap open and he would start going in a particular direction.

Neither of them said a word, Dean just following his brother with a gun in hand.

But later on Dean would have to admit Sam was right. He'd found it.

It was a large factory, abandoned and it definitely looked worse for wear, gray and dusty.

Sheila managed to stay in wolf form, though she knew it was only just going to get harder as time went on. Suddenly, a familiar scent drifted towards her nose.

She whined and raked her claws on the stone ground.

He had to get out of here, he shouldn't be here.

Sam.