Chapter Twenty One:
The Other Shoe
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"My boys!" Balth greeted them at the door with a scrawny crow on his shoulder. That gave the hugs a pregnant pause before commencing. "Alfie! Don't be rude! Say hi!"
The crow cocked his head and cawed a few times at them. At this close range it nearly deafened them.
"Good boy!" Balth praised and pulled part of a granola bar out of his pocket and handed it up for the bird to nom on. "Alfie's my favorite." He stated as if that explained his new pet. "Don't worry, Loves, he's been looked over by the vet. He's up to date on all his shots. And he is staying in my room, so there's no need to get your collective panties in twists." He gave a pointed look at them each in turn to dare say otherwise. It was his house, and the bird was kinda cute so why not? Might as well have a crow for a pet.
Balth took their acceptance as great news, having had several arguments all set up and ready to go to state if they weren't on board. A great deal many of them ending with, 'Because it's my house and I said so.' However, there was no need. He almost felt cheated about that for a few seconds.
Looking the three of them up and down, and finding that they still retained all the limbs they were born with, or in Dean's case, born again with, as he had shucked his humanity along with the amulet once they were inside the house and windows confirmed shut.
Balthazar's smile widened. Hugging them again which was too much for the scrawny black crow who flew off to his wooden perch. A long tree branch that was nailed to the walls in the corner and strung up tight so it wouldn't budge or fall. Underneath was a large homemade trough for the droppings so it would be easier to clean, and off to the side a food and water dish. He explained the rules regarding the bird; the very large birdcage was in his room for overnight was a relief since no one wanted to wake up to cawing in their ears. They would need to watch out so he doesn't fly outside by himself. What foods he's allowed to eat, which was pretty much anything, and ones he wasn't, which wasn't anything in the house unless they brought it in. Balthazar had also made up a list of things that they could do to safely interact with the bird and Castiel was grateful for it.
Cas and Dean liked the idea of the bird, Dean wasn't allergic and Cas could study it's behaviors and get some insight on animals thought processes in real time. Crows being very intelligent, and apparently easily trained since they were only gone for less than two weeks. Judging by the boxes and toys laying around, Balth had already started with the more complex games. Castiel slowly approached the bird who looked up from preening. "Can I pet him?"
Balth strode over and put his hand in front of and slightly above the crows feet, gently petting the toes to let the bird know what he wanted. The crow pecked a bit at his knuckles, not harshly, but as if it was testing to see if the fingers and hand were sturdy enough for his weight, before climbing up and ruffling his feathers. Balth then held Alfie up to Castiel who did the same and the bird was now standing on the top thumb side of Cas's half closed fist. A bright smile on his face as he turned slowly to show Dean what he's got. His other hand creeping up and grazing the bird's back like Balth's doing and it looked like it was just curious more then anything. Rubbing his chin along the wrist in front to scratch at an itch on it's jaw.
"Awesome." Dean remarked. "Sammy! Come and look at this!"
They all looked to the entryway where Sam was still standing, bag still in hand, staring at the bird. His head snapped up like he had come out of a trance. "Hmm?"
Dean's brow furrowed, "You wanna check out the bird?"
Sam shuffled one foot to the other. Shaking his head slightly before turning his head away sharply. "I'm good." He said tonelessly and gripped his bag more firmly. He strode purposefully towards the stairs and climbed them without looking back.
Dean shrugged. His little brother might just want a shower and some alone time. The bird hopped on his own over to Dean's shoulder and nibbled at his collar. Dean pet its chest feathers which were so smooth and jet black. Alfie was smaller then Sam's old bird size. Probably just a teen bird. Maybe that's it. Sam was having some issues with the fact that he had been a crow and now they were holding one as a pet. The idea that Sam thought that they could have ever treated him like nothing more then a pet if they never brought him back to his human form. All three of the men who'd been changed by the totem had started to loose their humanity and becoming more like the animals they turned into back then. Sam obviously didn't talk about it as much as he needed to back then.
Dean lifted his fingers to the bird's toes to greet it next, before he handed Alfie back to Balthazar. Showing the bird that he's not rejecting it, he simply needs to take care of something first.
"I gotta get unpacked as well." He stated and took his and Cas's bags upstairs to their room. Finding Sam's door shut. He dropped off his stuff on his and Cas's bed, and crept over to the spare room Sam was staying in. He listened at the door for a second. Silence. He knocked twice, "Sam? Wanna let me in?"
"No." Sam stated as if Dean was gonna catch him in a state of undress.
Dean waited for a moment. Knocking again. "Doesn't take you ten minutes to change." Dean stated and tried the doorknob. It was locked.
"Go away, Dean." Sam said a bit harshly, sighed heavily and amended, "I'm just tired."
Dean frowned. Maybe that was true. But somehow he doubted it was the only reason. "Ok. Lemme know if you need anything." He said and left only when he heard a sound of confirmation that he'd been heard. Finding his lock picking kit in his hunting bag the older brother returned to Sam's door. Silently sticking the picks into the lock and getting the tumblers all to drop. Opening up the door with ease as if it had never been locked. Slipping the tools back into his pocket out of sight to feign innocence.
Sam was sitting on his bed, head turned to the window before he sighed heavily and shot an accusing look at his brother across the room.
Dean lifted up his hands as if he had no idea Sam wanted to be alone, but kept going nonetheless. Walking casually to the bed, and sitting next to Sam since there were no other chairs in the room. He leaned over just enough to bump into Sam's side. Getting a glare for his troubles. Dean lowered his head a bit in a challenging manner. His horns emphasizing the image of something about to charge full on. Push comes to shove, he will tackle his moose of a brother to the ground, and sit on him until he spills his guts. Sam knew it too. If this happened last year, Dean sitting on Sam would have literally made him spill guts. (rimshot) Dean was pretty sure he wasn't too heavy for Sam to withstand, even with his extra Drauglin bits.
Sam lifted up his hands from where they rested in his lap to look at his fingers as they curled and uncurled. The fingers splaying out then together. Each finger moving in such a way to simulate flight feathers in motion. Letting them drop again and exhaling with some mild frustration. Facing the window again.
"Yeah, I know." Dean mumbled and pulled out his amulet from his pocket to toy with the bronze horns, using them to clean out his flat fingernails. His huge wings twitched behind him where they curled up and off to the side of the bed. "I know." He wasn't trying to compete with Sam on who had it worse, just inform him that he's not alone.
Sam looked over too and frowned at the side of Dean's face as his older brother gazed out the window too. Nodding repeatedly as his hands made fists and rested on his knees. One came up and hesitantly punched Dean's shoulder, barely moving more then the shirt fabric. Dean's tail thumped the bed.
Dean bumped back with his side with more force then before, making Sam sway in place. "Good talk." He stated and got up again. Double checking to see if Sam needed anything else with an overly complicated series of hand gestures, minor wing flexing, and eyebrow exercises, but it looked like that's all Sam wanted. Someone to listen even if he wasn't talking. A grateful expression on his face underneath the long bangs, before shaking his head and getting up. Sam brushed his hair back again and rubbed a hand down his scraggly beard. Dean took that as cue to leave and he lightly punched the door's frame a couple times as he left. Silently saying he's just a door knock away.
Sam grinned and stretched out his hunched back, going to his bag, and pulling the things out of it. Putting every scrap of fabric into the laundry hamper and started to strip off his numerous shirts to be replaced with some clothes he kept here in his dresser. Hearing Dean finally go back to his room and smirking that his big brother had been standing just out of sight in the hallway.
Dean's own clothes were pretty ripe as well so he dumped his stuff out onto the floor to keep the scent off of his bed. He carefully removed the safety pins that keep his shirts and jackets together when his wings are out. Once he got the delicates versus everything else separated, he did the same with Cas's things. Going through and trying to organize the mess of papers that fell to the floor on accident. "Need to get that guy a Lisa Frank binder or something for organizing." Dean mumbled as he shuffled them back into rough order. An extra large Ziploc plastic bag floated out last, oh, apparently they were in order, but Dean was just dumb. He pulled the sheets together, crammed them back into the bag and hid it underneath Cas's cameras and gear. Grabbing the clothes along with his own and letting the laundry basket slide down the stairs on its own. Giving off a very satisfying; Thump thump thump thump. All the way down and nearly tipping over at the very last step but righting itself at the last second. Fist bumping the air.
Dean ducked in to retrieve Sam's basket and doing the same with it. It didn't stair slide as easily, and made a big mess of shirts all over the stairs. He gathered them up, grumbling about the mess being the basket's fault for being one of those lame small round ones instead of wide rectangular ones. Heathens buy inefficient round laundry baskets.
Cas was too busy playing with the bird to notice or care. Catching up with his best friend and what all happened since they left.
Dean made the laundry baskets form a clam shell to contain the overflowing clothes and brought them down to the basement. Starting up a load and finding himself barely concentrating on how much soap to use. All thoughts going to his brother. Sam was still thinking about his time spent as a crow and no doubt worrying about what would have happened if they never found a cure. If he lost his mind for good and was eventually turned into a pet. Dean knew from experience what it's like being treated as a pet to know what Sam was feeling.
The other half of the time spent thinking while doing the laundry, Dean was equal parts thrilled an concerned about Dane. Did he make it back to the island alright? Or have to stay at the communication island all through the harsh storm? That was most likely. Trying to swim in the storm would have been even more difficult since he booked it as fast as possible there to help the three men. He was obviously too tired to move so he likely spent that whole storm laying out in the open on Frank island. Dean hoped that no boats decided to pass by during that time. He never got a call from Bobby announcing a message from there so Dane didn't send one yet. Or, before he left. They would have to wait at the phone, so to speak, for Dane or Cricket to send them a message as to what happened after they left.
Dean grinned when he checked the pockets in everyone's pants and jackets for things before loading up the washer. Finding some sand and small shells in Cas's swim trunks, putting it off to the side for him. He cursed under his breath when he realized that in their haste, they totally forgot the big ass Conch shell that his husband found close to the coral reef base. Dane probably still has it somewhere. He chuckled to himself when he thought about Dane playing around with it or having to find a place to put it to protect it from the future rug rats. Dean started the washer on the first load out of 5, and headed back upstairs in a better mood then he went downstairs.
Balth's voice called him over exuberantly, "Cassie says that you are going to be uncles?"
Dean grinned wider. "Yeah, I think that's where those two were headed." He commented and sat on the couch. Cas on the other side, still holding the crow but his hand resting on one knee. Balthazar had too much energy to sit like a normal person.
"Dane had been too shy to talk much with his girlfriend until yours truly pushed him into the right direction. Relationship guru right here." Dean's thumbs pointed inward. "His girlfriend is really pretty for a Drauglin."
Balthazar finally perched on the edge of the sofa on the narrow arm, toes burying under Castiel's legs for warmth and stability, much to his friend's annoyance. Cassie didn't push him away for fear of startling the crow who was quietly preening. Balthazar motioned with his hands to give more information. "Dean-o, you can't just leave me hanging like that. I want to see if Cassie was fibbing on the little lady's shape."
So he doesn't believe them, Dean was about to set the Brit straight. "If you're asking if she was a huge wolf with antlers, then the answer is yes. She is, a simply massive wolf with antlers bigger then most trees. And those babies are going to be cute as hell."
For a second, Balth looked like he bit a lemon, trying to imagine the more eccentric combinations. The possibilities were limitless. Most of them had some form of quadruped with patches of fur and leather skin wings. He didn't voice his opinion, just stole his bird back from Cassie. "Were you able to take some pictures? Did they let you?"
Castiel leaped from the couch, like he'd forgotten all about the photographic documentation and his notes. He bounced up the stairs, and Dean winced when he heard his name being used as a curse. The moment Cas found his accident with the paper notes. Leaning forward a bit to inform Balthazar of some vital information, "His organization and research methods are ridiculous. It's sheer irresponsibility to go on a expedition without the proper filing equipment."
Several stomps were heard descending the staircase and two fist fulls of papers were held up as evidence 'A through F' of Dean's heinous crimes. He shook them in front of his soon to be forcefully celibate husband before huffing and dropping them to the living room floor. Dean's face was a bright shade of shame-red as he watched Cas flip through some pages to sort them again. Dean started to open his mouth to offer his assistance, but was silenced by a single finger raised, and a glare that could melt steel faster then Dean's fires.
Dean made a heroic retreat upstairs to at least bring down Sam's camera. Not daring to touch anything else of Cas's until the little Mr. cooled off a bit. Sam came down right after, carrying his own notes to show and tell. Not realizing the not-fight that was totally not going on between the married couple. Sam was blissfully unaware since his head was still down and fingers sorting through his pages in his journal. Dean was seconds from mentioning to Cas that if he had just kept his stuff in notebook or journal form it would have been easier to keep it organized but a hasty hand slap from Balthazar saved him from castration. Do not correct the only cryptozoologist professional in the room on how to compile research notes.
Cas saw Sam flip though his things, showing the others some of his quick drawings he made that were just barely on par with a grade-schoolers. The overly tall Hunter could draw a perfect circle with precise lines, angles, with ancient Latin mixed seamlessly with precise runes inside sigils, but ask him to draw one of the cute fluffy chicken Drauglin's, and the man will make a perfect rendition of Satan's snot-rags.
Castiel tried so very hard to keep himself from laughing at Sam's depictions, but, how could the man possibly take something so adorable and cute and make it look so repulsive with just a few lines of pencil marks?!
Thankfully he had accompanying photographs, and Balth decided to show them off to his bird, asking Alfie if he'd like to make some friends. The Brit coo-ed at the pictures of them holding the fluffy babies and immediately demanded to see what Dane's Mate looked like so he could get a better idea of what Drauglin cubs would look like. Sam flipped his fingers through a number of photos, briefly stopping here and there to point out the one he took of Dean and Cas sleeping in a nest all wrapped up in each other with bellies exposed. Drool glinting in the flash photo.
He had to jerk the camera up and away from Dean's quick grab and scrolled past the picture quickly so Dean couldn't delete it yet. "Here she is!" Sam announced and angled the camera to Balth. "As you can see, she's pretty tall so we mostly just got pictures with their legs close to the camera. But yeah, out of most of the Drauglin's there, she was the most straight forward one, the others you can't really sum up in descriptions quite like, 'giant wolf with antlers'." Sam shrugged, moving to the next when she bent down to sniff at his face, nose four times bigger then his head within a couple of feet of the camera, warping the image of the rest of her face to comedic degrees. "This is a bad picture." He mumbled, trying to find a good one from a distance that didn't just have the flash of the camera reaching her elbows and no higher. "Here we go, I was about a block away from her." He grinned and sure enough, she was more proportionate in the pic and it clearly showed her puppy love for Dane who hadn't been looking her way at that moment. The pic after that had him looking at her but she looked down shyly. How these two ever got together to say more then a few words...
Sam looked up at the computer in the corner and immediately brought it over, uploading the images so that no accident could erase them before making a hard DVD copy for safety's sake. Now on a bigger screen, they could see details better. Sam started with Danneel's pics and would move to the rest later. At the one with her nose in the foreground he noticed something that he hadn't at the time. "Huh. Check this out." He pointed at the fur around her nose and enlarged the image a few times.
"Wow." Cas breathed. "I didn't notice that."
"What?" Balth leaned forward as well as the image was made even bigger, pixelating slightly if they went too far.
"That's not fur."
Balth leaned back, disbelief clear in his eyes. "That's totally fur."
"No it's not. Look here, closer, each hair is actually a feather. Each of these barbs here, they're just like down feathers but with slightly more rigidity and length. When you zoom in, you can see that they're all feathers. It just looks like fur."
"What would the point of that be?"
Dean shrugged when they all looked at him for answers. "How the hell would I know?"
They frowned collectively, looking at the snout and changing their view on the couple's kids. Maybe they'll be more birdlike? Going to the other clear pictures of her forelegs and tail and confirming that yes, all of the strands of fur were actually super long and thin feathers.
"There were mammals on the island right?" Sam knew he saw at least some. "What if there were none at all? What if they just looked like mammals?"
Dean shook his head. "I was doing laundry just now, gotta check the lint trap but I'm pretty sure we got some stray hairs on our clothes when we were there."
Sam and Cas pushed up from the desk and dashed downstairs, supposedly halting the washer and dumping out his organized clothes piles. Coming back triumphantly with some samples from their own basement after a few minutes. Balthazar was content to look at the pictures of all of the sunbathing Drauglin's and oohed and awwed at Elvis and Janice. Rolling his eyes at the names. Leave it to a Winchester to name anything important. He found out that it was actually Dane that named them, and just nodded like he knew that all along. "Of course yes, Dane is a Winchester because he's your brother." Flapping his hand about dismissively, unable to correct himself he just bent reality a little around his statements.
Dean burned himself a copy of Sam's pictures to disks while the other two were downstairs, setting the DVDs off to the side. Finally getting the courage to touch Cas's camera to make a few copies of those as well before they accidentally get deleted. Dean got to the blackmail pics of him and let it be. Deleting them without Cas's knowledge would be even worse then whatever his husband came up with for pranks or jokes.
The three nerds came back upstairs with a bag of scales, feathers and anything else interesting, and placed them on the kitchen table. Castiel's microscope was pulled out and the boys went to town analyzing the samples as Dean and Balth kept going over the pictures, naming the Drauglin's as they went, writing it down on a notepad to correlate with which picture went with which description and name. Using their own eyes instead of a program to sort through each image to find all of the times that specie was seen. No program could do that kind of job better then the ones who were there, seeing them from every angle not just from the pictures they were able to get. While it was still fresh in their minds.
Hours ticked by as they worked, no one realizing how much time passed until the rumble of stomachs was heard. They ordered out, not bothering with cooking their own meal at the moment since all of their attention was better spent recalling their experiences on paper.
Balth sat back, adding up all of the different specie they were able to capture on film and grinned. "Ok, we've got a little over a hundred kinds, I figure we split them up evenly and name 25 of them. Sound fair?"
Dean raised an eyebrow at Balth being allowed to name a quarter of them since he didn't even want to go. But, why not. It's not like there's anyone telling him not to name each individual Drauglin in his own batch. At least, the ones that didn't give their names when they were introduced. Like Elvis and Janice probably didn't have personal names before those given by Dane. They didn't seem to care or mind and Dean wondered if they let Dane name them to indulge the young Drauglin.
Everyone deserved a name. For ideas, Dean pulled out one of his mix tapes and started playing it on his Y-pod, jotting them down as they came to him. Many were former aliases that the brothers had used in their Hunting life.
Balth decided to name his after blokes he knew growing up and fellow colleagues. Castiel on their Latin classifications that he had to figure up with a touch of personality so they weren't seen as just specimens. The horse-like ones were in his batch and he thought long and hard what to name them. Their behavior was at a complete diametric to their appearance. Black beauties came to mind but he knew it needed a bit more oompf. Since they touched his heart, he decided to spend more then just a few minutes thinking up a name or classification.
Sam was a mixture of the others, giving some kind of unique personality but also went with their own countenance. He fought for the right to name the fluffy bird raptors. Showing off a bit of his inner Trekie, they were dubbed tribblbirbs. Snickering to himself at how ridiculous the name was to perfectly match their kind.
The group spent a few days working on it, until another hunt was sent their way by Bobby, who reminded them of their other job. Leaving Castiel with Balthazar, the brothers suited up and rolled out the next morning for a basic vampire hunt. Supposedly it was just the one vamp, and they could meet up with other Hunters in the area if they needed the assist.
The Impala ate up the miles with Dean behind the wheel. The rain outside pattering against the windshield as Sam tried to nap, but giving up since his mind wouldn't turn itself off. He hadn't hunted in a while, and it was good to have a nice straightforward hunt. "You know, we probably don't need the other Hunters."
Dean glanced over, considering and gave a half shrug. "Yeah, I know. But we don't want to give the impression that we're supermen. Normal Hunters would need help. We keep using my talents in the field and we might attract attention again."
Sam went back to watching the scenery pass by. "Maybe." he said, considering, "But, if we could spare them a trip, why not take care of it ourselves? I'm pretty sure even if it's a nest, you'd be able to take them all out single-handed, and we could just say it was just a weak one. I mean, of course I'd help too! I'm not saying you do all the work, I'm just saying, if the crap hits the fan, did you want other Hunters seeing your real form? If we really need to use it?"
Dean frowned a bit, his features shown from the oncoming traffics headlights. They knew that going back to hunting would mean certain risks. But, which ones were worth it was another matter in each case they came across. They'd gotten used to using Dean's abilities more and more and maybe it wouldn't hurt their reputation to loose once in awhile. Not let the monster go, of course, but make it a challenge and leave with some convincing bruises a few times. Finishing each hunt without a scratch would definitely raise some eyebrows. "Ok."
"Ok?" Sam was a little surprised to hear it.
"Yeah, I mean, Ok. We can do it with just ourselves. However, I will make it more realistic. I'll let myself get ass whooped this time before you chop it's head off. I don't want to work with anyone else. If my amulet gets yanked off then I don't want to have to explain everything to some random Hunters out there in the middle of nowhere who are armed, pumped with Adrenalin of the hunt, and ready to kill."
Bobby can't control everyone's opinions. The Hunters that the Winchester family trusts, may trust others to cover their own asses, but there's no way of knowing if that extends to their asses in turn. Same old story, same old song and dance. Dean would have to pretend to be a normal human Hunter a few times. Come back with some kind of mark to show he was on any hunt in the first place.
Sam chewed on a finger for a few minutes. Having to agree with his older brother in the end. He would have volunteered his own hide to get beaten but after they get 'proof' of the hunts' injuries on Dean's body, he just has to wait for the amulet to heal him. They'd have to get the photos right after they chop the vamps head off. Waiting too long will leave a baby fresh skin in just a few hours. Risking their lives needlessly didn't sit well with them but in the end, being seemingly impervious to injury could be worse in the long run.
They got to the town Bobby indicated, and sure enough, it was definitely vamp attacks going on. Dean insisted they wait until it started to get darker outside, so they drove closer to the potential nest site and pulled off to the side of the road. Making sure they couldn't be seen by passersby as Dean slipped off the amulet and donned his hat and black trench to hide his horns and wings. Right now they just needed his nose. He was overwhelmed with the scent of death and blood even more-so then when that whiff he got while driving down this road. He covered his nose and mouth for a few moments, trying to filter out some of it so that he could narrow down where it's coming from in the still air.
Sam's hands were on his shoulders and he didn't even realize the fact that he was hunched over, practically on his hands and knees.
"Sorry Sammy. It's just. Fuck it's strong here." Scanning the trees all around. "We've gotta be right on top of it." He stood up again, shaking himself out before accepting the machete Sam put in front of him. Finding a good grip on the handle with his other hand still over the lower part of his face. It was easier to tell directions that way for him, and he was able to lead his little brother into the darkening woods. Just enough light to see their way before breaking out flashlights.
The vamp nest site was not some abandoned factory, or house, or even a measly shed. It was a damned childs tree house in the middle of the woods. Looking like it's at least forty years old and missing a ladder. Of course, it's not like vampires need ladders, their fast climbing and jumping abilities are well known. Dean shucked his hat and trench quietly and left them nearby, Sam going into silent stalking mode as well as they got closer. Now that they're within striking distance, Sam could smell the blood in the air as well. A body that was half eaten and drained dry was below the tree house, discarded like a errant chicken bone. Sam's blood boiled and his heart beat faster.
Dean hastily raised his hand up and out to signal Sam to cool it and collect himself. Some shuffling sounds were heard above and Dean's wings opened a bit. Sam couldn't scale that tree as fast as his older brother could, but he was needed in making sure the monster didn't escape on foot below.
Sam's hands twitched on the handle. Waving a few fingers for Dean's attention then using sign language to tell his brother, 'dibs'.
Dean frowned, machete raised, wings poised but he could see that taking care of every monster and shoving Sam into being just plain backup wasn't being fair to him. Sam was an excellent Hunter and didn't deserve the treatment. So Dean nodded once and slipped his blade back into its sheath, motioning that he was going to flush the vampire out for him at least.
They heard a soft hiss from inside and subdued shuffling. Apparently the brothers were found out, and the vamp was debating it's options. Sam was ready, so Dean flew up, knocking on the door once he was perched on a nearby branch and the top part of the structure. The door burst outward and knocked into Dean's knees, sending him off balance and scrambling to catch a grip on the bark. The vamp bit into his arm, pulling him forward before shoving him away. Dean fell backwards from the tall tree, wings flapping uselessly underneath him before he landed square on his back. All breath knocked out of him in one whoosh. Dazed, he saw the vampire launch itself out of the tree and into the woods opposite Sam who immediately took off running.
Dean cursed his wings as he folded them in enough to roll over to his hands and knees before sprinting quickly after the two retreating forms. The trees were now too tight for flight so he pushed his legs harder. Pulling his machete out as he ran. The sting from the bite on his arm was put in the back of his mind. Sam was able to close the distance a bit with his longer stride and Dean noticed that the vampire was struggling. Usually the monsters were much faster then a human but something seemed to be wrong with it. It bumped into two trees as it ran. Sam using it to his advantage. Getting another slice in before both were tripping over low brush and dead fall. An area of woods that flooded long ago with a quarter mile of old driftwood laying against the base of every one of the tall old trees. The vampire fell to its side, panting and coughing. Dean could see better in the dark and watched blood come out of the vamps mouth as it wheezed and gagged. It writhed on the ground as Sam tried to get closer to it to deliver the final blow. Dean sprinting over top of the dead fall and was able to get to the vamp first.
It raised its hands up, covered in fresh blood and Dean hesitated in chopping its head off. He assumed Sam had gotten a throat slice in, but it didn't make it all the way through, that that was the reason it was disoriented and bleeding, but there was no cut on its neck. The blood was coming predominately from its mouth.
"Please.." It gurgled. "Please, don't... poison?" hands clawing at its chest.
Sam finally made it, machete poised and ready as he watched the vamp choke some more. Confused as to why it's acting that way. He only made a few cuts, superficial ones at that and nowhere near its neck. What could cause...?
The vampire wheezed, looking horrified up at Dean who's wings were out for balance, tail thrashing. "What are you? Are you the Dark One?" It got out before vomiting up more blood, spattering the sun-bleached logs underneath. Its skin turning dark gray and brittle. Like all of its own blood was being forced out, and the vamps first death coming to the surface.
Dean paused at those words. His arm with the bite in it raised so he could look at the wound. The vamp bit him. That's the only thing that this hunt had that was different then the other times they went after monsters. He'd hunted vampires before in this form, but he'd never been bitten before. Scratched, kicked, bludgeoned, but never bitten.
Sam made the connection faster. "Dean, did he bite you? You're poisonous to vampires?"
Dean's hand covered up the wound like he could hide it now. That must be it. It didn't make him feel any better about killing the monsters to know that just being what he was was even worse then the monsters they hunted. His heart sinking slowly before falling into an abyss. Just when he was feeling good about using what physical strengths he has to fight evil... turns out that he has the potential to be worse. Seen as atrocious to truly evil things. Heart thumping like mad in his chest, but his eyes were frozen on the dying vampire. Suffering a fate worse then a quick death.
Dean stared at it helplessly.
Sam could read his brother easily, even in the near pitch blackness. If he didn't say something now, Dean could slip right back into his depression. Sam wasn't sure if his brother had it in him to resist it this time. To Dean, this was the other shoe that dropped. He's not only a monster to normal humans, but he's a nightmare to these creatures as well.
Sam controlled his breathing, finding some kind of positive spin he could put on this. He can not wait. "This is great, Dean!" Mustering up some enthusiasm. If he could convince himself, Dean could scent it. Pushing good thoughts into his words. Hating how his brother could read him in this form too easily. Able to tell when Sam's lying, so Sam only told the truth. "I wish humans were toxic to monsters. Then we wouldn't need to worry about them so much."
Sam's attention went back to the vampire. It struggled to breath past all the blackening blood before it slumped to the ground as a half dried husk. Hands still clawed inward and mouth gaping wide. Its eyes fluttered closed. Rasping out more half formed words before breathing its last. Sam could tell Dean wasn't in any position to do it, so he strode forward and chopped its head off. Just to be sure.
Dean came out of his trance, watching Sam pull the bulk of the body to a small clearing and gathering up some of the dryer logs for a fire. This was as good a place as any to get rid of the body and evidence. Mechanically, Sam went back for the head next, adding it to the pile. Dean slipped his amulet back on, the circle of fang marks on his arm disappearing gradually. The sting lessening in intensity. He cursed himself for not taking a photo of it. That was the whole reason he allowed himself to be attacked. Now's not the time. There's more important things to think about.
Sam watched his brother turn back into his human shape and kept quiet about it. Usually his brother loved showing off his fireball creations, trying for more complicated displays each time they were out. Especially since he wasn't allowed to do it in the basement or backyard anymore. No matter how many precautions he took, Balth would never let him forget about the pineapple incident.
Sam lit the kindling and watched as the flame took to the wood easily. The amount of dry wood in the area really helped. Dean still stood back, absently looking at his arm every once in awhile, hand rubbing at the healed skin as if it itched. Sam went over, standing next to him, looking down. "This is a good thing, Dean." He said quietly. Encouraging.
"Sure." Dean's voice croaked out before he cleared his throat. "Until I poison one of you guys after a paper cut."
Sam was happy Dean was talking at least, hadn't shut down yet. Keep him talking. "Well that's just bullshit. We were all exposed to your blood when you were full Drauglin. All of us are fine. I doubt that the fine print that it has to be ingested has anything to do with it. Some of the particles must have become airborne during the fights you had with that bastard Walker, the helicopter battles with Cas and Balth. There had been so fucking many opportunities for your blood to find it's way accidentally into our systems and we're fine. We're alive. And we wouldn't be if it wasn't for you and your gifts." Sam leaned against Dean a bit, just enough to show that he's there. In more ways then one. "Hell, I was literally covered in your blood before, and look at me." His hands open, palms up in front of his brother who looked over just to confirm the statement. "Your blood probably just reacts to vampires. Maybe other things, I don't know. It might have something to do with Drauglin's being caretakers of nature?"
Dean made a noncommittal noise.
Sam took that as encouragement to go on. Ideas coming forward. "Your mom said as much. Drauglins protect, any way they can. Have been doing it for millennia! And monsters disrupt the natural order of things. They exist beyond reason most times. That's why they are called supernatural, they don't belong in the natural world. Hell, half of them seem to only exist to wreak havoc on balanced ecosystems and communities."
"Sam... just... not now. Ok?" Dean sighed, leaning away from him.
Sam took a half step away, giving him some space. If he pushed now, Dean would never open up to him. He said what he could, having thought about this for some time. Waiting for this other shoe to drop. There was no way that Dean would be Ok with his situation indefinitely. Using his new trueform undercover. These hunts had been good for him to normalize, and even take advantage of his new gifts, but you can't change someone's mind that easily. Not in the long run without reassurances along the way. Everything's going to be alright, one day at a time, nothing's perfect.
So Sam stood there, next to his slightly shorter brother, watching the fire grow and eventually die down again. Only moving closer to the ashes to smother the remaining coals in dirt. That, Dean helped with instead of being frozen in his own thoughts. Needing to move after standing still for so long.
Dean's knew that Sam would want some of his... but wouldn't dare ask, so Dean decided to get the nervousness over with and offered it up freely. Lessen the blow. "I want you to take some of my blood and figure out if we can use it to build better weapons."
Sam frowned. The way his brother said that was so unemotional and flat that he knew it had to be his fault somehow. He nodded softly, patting Dean's back. He did want to study the blood but knew that had all kinds of baggage attached to it for Dean. Mentioning that humans have their blood analyzed all the time wouldn't help much at the moment. Better to wait for Dean to have a chance to feel this through, not just think it though logically. Dean would no doubt make some unconscious parallels with their studying of his body in a similar way that all of the other villains in his life had before. Hopefully, he'll see that his family has nothing but his best interests in mind, and would never push. But, it was still obvious that they might be able to use parts of his body all the same, to do great things. At least it was not for personal gain. If they find a way to use his blood against more then just vampires, they could turn the tide on the war against these monsters.
On the walk back, Dean retrieved his trench coat and hung it over his arm despite the chill in the air and the holes in the back of his shirts where his wings had been. His emotions running hot in his veins, he barely felt the cold air. Sam grabbed the forgotten hat that was underneath the coat, and looked up at the tree house. No doubt, more corpses were strewn about inside if this was how the vamp treated its doorstep. Dean's hand was once again covering his nose, eyes squinting upwards. In his human form, he still smelled the offal in the air, only slightly sharper then his younger brother's sense of smell.
Sam gripped the hat in his hands, twisting it. Dean had seen what was inside. It must be horrible in there. Sam shivered and frowned deeply. Hating that his brother is constantly surrounded with death. Sam tucked the hat into the crook of Dean's arm that held his coat and pulled out his cell, waving it about. "I'll text Bobby. He can get some people out here to deal with this. We did all the heavy lifting, the least they can do is cleanup. They wanted to help anyway."
Dean hmm'ed again, kicking a small stick out of his way as he faced their entrance to the woods again. Walking slowly. Sam caught up after finding a raggedy blanket bunched up against the base of the tree, and covered up the body on the ground. Hating that whoever took care of the area later would most likely have to destroy the bodies entirely since it was clear that this couldn't have come from an animal attack. He prayed the families of these missing people would be let down easy.
Dean changed his clothes back at the Impala, donning the trench again and getting behind the wheel. Sam cleaned and packed away their blades and got into the passenger side. Neither spoke much on the drive back for several hours. When they finally got gas, Sam put his hand on the steering wheel for Dean's attention. "You are more then the sum of your parts."
Dean scrunched up his eyebrows at that then rolled his eyes. "I wasn't thinking about that."
Sam pulled his hand back to fold his arms. "Sure you weren't."
Dean glared at him. Yanking the keys out of the ignition. "You're paying." He stated and went to pump the most expensive kind of gas that station had. Starting it up and daring Sam to say otherwise. A test to see if Sam would take the mild abuse or bitch him out for the demand.
Sam took it, and it made Dean feel like an asshole.
Sam went inside, going down the aisles and gathering up some basics. Dean watched through the stores windows as the numbers climbed on the dial. Why was he acting like such a emo brat about this? His little brother doesn't want to objectify him just for a more effective monster killing weapon, with his blood as the main ingredient. Dean knew that if he told Sam 'No', that that would be the complete end of discussion. Sam wouldn't push, and he wouldn't dare get Cas or Bobby or anyone else involved. He probably wouldn't even mention it to anyone else. Honoring Dean's wish till death.
Dean knew it wouldn't even be reverse psychology either. Sam just wouldn't do it. Wouldn't guilt Dean into saying yes if he gave the answer no. Dean sighed, watching a wisp of his breath in the chilly night air. It may be the end of summer, but fall wasn't there yet. And up here in the northern boarder states, it was a slight bit colder some nights. He made his breath come out in a small cloud, a facsimile to his old dragon smoke that followed his flames. He wondered for a few seconds if he should take off his amulet and give the gas station attendant a free light show before they take off. Sanity winning through, and keeping his amulet in place.
Sam stood in line, watching Dean who forgot to signal the full tank for several minutes. His only cue being Dean cleaning the windows which he only does after his Baby had enough to eat. Sam gave a thumbs up to the large window, and got a pack of gum as he waited.
Dean climbed back in and let his head drop to the steering wheel, groaning at how fucked up tonight went. Sure they got the bad guy, no one else died, both he and his brother are safe and alive and unharmed. But, fuck. This whole new discovery couldn't have waited? Of course, it didn't happen for the months that they'd been hunting again. Maybe it waited long enough. Just when they got their bearings again...
How can he make decisions like the ones he knows are going to be asked of him, when he's so tired? With 300 more miles to go before they get home? He sat back again, seeing Sam strolling over to the car. He unbuckled and slid over to the passenger's side. Reaching behind the seat for a spare shirt to ball up as a pillow.
Sam hesitated for a second when he saw the car rock side to side and noticed the new seating arrangement. Taking it with stride, he knew he was awake enough to get them back. So he hefted the bags of groceries into the backseat, tossing his brother a Snickers and turned on the black classic car.
"Really?" Dean held up the chocolate candy bar like a dead rat.
"You're not yourself when you're hungry." Sam said with a straight face as he pulled onto the highway again. A dimple showing his attempt to hide a mischievous grin.
"Bitch." Dean muttered but unwrapped the bar anyway. Who was he to turn down free food?
"Jerk." Sam's grin peeked out. After a few miles, he started in on the gum, reading somewhere that it keeps drivers more alert to the road, detecting movement 20 times better then those that didn't chew gum.
Dean played with the wrapper for a bit, crinkling in the near silence of the car. Sam's choice of driving music leaning more to the heavy metal side, much to Dean's annoyance but also secret pleasure. It meant that his lil bro wasn't going to let his big bro push him around. Their dynamic holding strong with neither of them in charge. "Ever think that the magic behind eating a Snickers being able to change people actually works in some situation? I mean, we've heard of some really weird shit in our days, but those commercials showing a candy bar with that kind of results given after one bite..." He drifted off at the sideways glances he was getting. "Nevermind." Dean grouched. "All I'm saying is that if a Snickers could have that kind of shapeshifting power, why'd we bother with this thing?" He flicked the amulet with his fingers in a playful manner. Letting the seriousness of the days events slide into the background for now.
Sam chuckled. "It could be certain kinds of Snickers. King sized versus Fun size."
"Which is a stupid name for those itty bitty ones. How is a half bite called 'fun'? False advertising." Dean snorted in derision. "Fun size should be like, two feet wide."
"Agreed." Sam's smile coming out a bit more. "So if a chocolate and peanut candy bar can make you change into a human, then when you want to change back, I hear Red Bull gives you wings."
Dean resisted a full out laugh, snickering into his wrist and hissing out, "Such a dork."
The rest of the ride back was spent trading theories on commercials being based on hunts gone sideways or bucket list of fictional fuglies to fuck up.
"Listen, all I know is that 'Snuggles' must die."
"The fabric softening teddy bear?" Even Sam had a hard time with that one.
"Definitely. That mutant bear sneaking into homes and playing with kids? Ooh, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down."
Emo crisis averted. Normality restored. The car sailed on the dark highway on home.