John expected to see Stiles when he opened the door. Instead, he found Dean Winchester on his doorstep.
"Can I come in?" Dean asked and when John just stared at him for a long moment he offered: "I can come back later if this is not a good time."
"No, no." John shook his head and stepped aside to let him in. "What can I do for you? Your brother not with you?"
"Sam's on the phone with somebody who knows a lot about a lot of things." Dean made a suffering noise. "They've been discussing the other kind of werewolf for over an hour now. I needed to get out for a while."
"Want a beer?" John led the way to the kitchen, his mind racing. Dean was not just here because he needed to get out of the cramped motel room. He could have hit a bar for that. No, he was here for a reason. John just didn't know what that might be.
"Can't say no to a beer." Dean followed him and took the offered beer with a bright smile.
John watched him over the neck of his bottle. They were about the same age and Dean had this carefree attitude they should have at this age but there was something in his eyes, in his posture. As if he'd seen way too much already.
"We looked into it and you're right." Dean took a sip of his beer. "No ripped-out hearts in this town. The only significant body count I could find was when my dad came here to deal with that druid. He even made an entry about that but since it had nothing to do with the lake or drowning in general we didn't notice that it was the same town."
"Entry?"
"My dad kept a journal," Dean explained. "Everything he knew about the supernatural he put in there. He mentioned the druid and a tree."
"What's the matter with that tree?" John couldn't help but wonder.
"What do you mean?"
"Everybody just casually mentions that damn tree." John let out a frustrated groan. "And I don't know where it even is. What's so special about a tree?"
"It's called a Nemeton and according to Dad it's not doing much," Dean said. "Except for when some crazy bitch uses it as some kind of conductor for evil forces. Where it is I have no clue, though." He shrugged and put the bottle to his lips again.
"You've been busy as well." Dean nodded towards the stack of books and notes John had put aside but not out of sight.
"As you said, I want to know what I'm dealing with." His first impulse was to put it way before Dean could have a closer look but there was no point in hiding his research now. The book with information about Derek was on top of the stack but it was closed and Dean didn't seem particularly interested in his research anyway.
"About that." Dean reached into his pocket and came up with a small package. "I don't have many, just the leftovers from a case we worked on a while back but I figured you might need them."
He put the package on the table and a bullet rolled out.
"What's this?" John picked up the bullet. It looked self-made.
"Wolfsbane," Dean said. "I've been listening to Sam and Bobby discussing your kind of werewolf for an hour now. Silver won't do shit but this baby …" He pointed with his bottle at the bullet in John's hand. "… will kill it or if you hit something not vital it will poison it and kill it over time."
"I'm not going to just shoot somebody." John put the bullet back into the package. There were maybe seven or eight more in there.
"Not saying you should but it can't hurt to be prepared." Dean pushed the package farther towards him. "You might want to get your hands on mountain ash and some mistletoe as well. Both poisonous to these werewolves and if you draw a line with mountain ash, they can't cross it. Works like salt with ghosts."
"Yesterday you didn't even know that this kind of werewolf exists and now you're an expert on them?" John raised an eyebrow at him, not buying it.
Dean had been sitting relaxed, enjoying his beer, but now he locked eyes with John.
"Hunters tend to die young," Dean said, dead serious. "If you want to survive you have to learn, you have to adapt. Fast. The things out there won't give you a second chance."
John took the bullets and he did note down mountain ash and mistletoe.
"So." John put his notepad away and picked up his bottle again. "Are you just here to help out the rookie or do you want something in return?"
Dean wanted something, that much was clear. John might be a rookie in his day job as well but he knew how to read people. Dean wanted something and he didn't want his brother to know about it.
"That lake creature. Derek." Dean scratched off the edge of the label on his beer bottle with his thumb and did not look at John.
"What about him?" John asked, guarded.
"I want to talk to him," Dean said. "We tried to lure him out but nothing works."
"I heard about that." John nodded. "Heard you took a dive."
"How do you know that?" Dean's head snapped up.
"That's how Derek remembered you." Maybe he was giving out more information than he should here but John doubted that Dean could use any of this to do something to Stiles or Derek. "He didn't pay you much mind when you did your rituals at the lake but when you fell into the water …"
"That's how to get his attention?"
"Don't you ever go into the water," John said sternly. "Derek will drown you."
"Wasn't planning to." Dean raised his hands in defense. "But I still want to talk to him. Can you arrange that?"
"What do you want to talk about? If this is just another attempt to get close to him …" They had been chatting almost like old friends and John had to admit that he liked Dean but that didn't mean that he trusted him.
"When he gave me that fish." Dean's eyes became distant and John caught a glimpse of another horror. "He saved my life. He saved Sammy's life. We'd been starving for days, eating random shit we found in the forest but we weren't exactly Junor Woodchucks at that time."
"You want to thank him?" John guessed.
"Maybe." Dean took another pull from his bottle. "Don't know. It's just … he seemed like a nice guy. A bit weird. Kind of clueless about basic shit but I liked him."
"He gave you food when you were starving," John reminded him. "Of course you liked him."
Dean shook his head but didn't elaborate on his thoughts.
"Anyway, I want to see him," Dean repeated. "Can you make it happen or do I have to take another dive to get his attention?"
"I don't have a way to reach him either," John had to admit. "But Stiles can ask him. I can't promise that Derek even wants to see you but I can send Stiles a message."
"That's all I'm asking."
John did send Stiles a message right away and he promised Dean to contact him the second he got an answer.
"Might take a while." John put the phone aside when after long seconds the check-mark didn't turn blue. He hadn't expected Stiles to read his message instantly but one could hope. After his chat with Mark yesterday Stiles needed some time, he got that but that didn't mean that he liked it.
"He's in the lake with Derek and I don't know when he's going to come up again," John explained when Dean threw him a questioning glance. "I was kind of hoping that he would show up for dinner today but all I got was you." John raised his bottle in a toast. There was only a small sip left and John was tempted to offer a second round but in the end, he decided against it.
"I've seen a lot of strange things," Dean said. "But picturing this energetic kid sitting at the bottom of the lake …" He shook his head in amusement. "Man, this is weird."
"You're telling me."
"I should check on Sammy." Dean finished his beer as well. "See if he's off the phone by now."
His tone made it clear that he didn't believe it, though.
John saw him out and when he came back to the kitchen to put away the bottles, he noticed the package of bullets still on the table. He took one out to have a real look at it. Self-made, he'd noticed that earlier, but crafted with skill. It didn't look as if it would explode in his face if he fired it from his gun.
"Better safe than sorry." John had to agree to Dean's statement earlier. He brought the bullets upstairs and locked them in the safe. Not long ago it had been empty except for his gun. Now it contained the growing file on the Hale pack, his research on werewolves, and he'd just added some werewolf-killing bullets. His life had become weird.
John closed the safe, went downstairs, and with a bottle of Jack at his side, he turned on the laptop to find out what mountain ash was and here to get it.
John let himself fall into that rabbit hole, it kept him from worrying about Stiles, and he went to bed way too late but not as drunk as he'd feared.
Mark still sniffed him when John came into the station the next morning.
"You know, when I said that you can get drunk on your days off," Mark said and wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I didn't mean it."
John wasn't sure if he was joking or not, he hadn't been that drunk. He'd showered thoroughly in the morning and he'd brushed his teeth twice, but either way, he wasn't in the mood. He still hadn't heard from Stiles, he hadn't even read his message, and by now he was more than worried. Did something happen? After his conversation with Dean yesterday John doubted that the Winchesters had done something but he didn't know for sure. Maybe Sam and that guy who knew a lot about a lot had come up with something. Or maybe Agnes had found a way to get rid of Derek. Or, or, or … by now John's mind was running wild with possible scenarios, one more unrealistic than the other.
"John?" Mark had caught up with his mood and ducked his head to look him in the eye. "Did something happen?"
"Haven't heard from Stiles yet," John answered briskly and turned to pour himself a coffee. It was his third and it wasn't even eight in the morning.
"He said that he might not come back up that soon," Mark reminded him.
"I know." John burned his tongue in his nervous haste when he took a sip of his coffee. "Didn't really expect him for dinner yesterday. He's been late before but not a sign of life?" John shook his head.
"We can drive out to the lake," Mark offered. After the morning briefing, they were supposed to go on patrol today.
"Thanks, man." It would still be almost two hours before they could get there but having a plan of action did help. John didn't know what he hoped to find at the lake, though. Stiles was most likely at the bottom and there was no way to reach him there.
"Do you think something happened to him?" Mark asked. "Do you think the hunters …" He lowered his voice.
"I was thinking more about Agnes," John admitted with a close eye on Mark to catch his reaction. He knew his partner better than he knew Dean but John couldn't deny that Mark was part of a fraction that very well could turn out to be his enemy.
"I don't know," Mark said, not surprised by that accusation. "She can and will do anything to keep us safe but I doubt that she would do something drastic about Stiles and Derek."
Agnes' focus was more on the hunters, John got that. Not that he believed for a second that she'd ruled out Derek as a threat to the pack.
"Let's just drive out to the lake and have a look around," John said. At least that would give him something to do.
A/N Camp July starts this week and I'm not sure about next weekend's update. Might have to skip that one.