Sam and Chelsea sat at an outdoor table to a rib shack, picking at a plate of ribs while Chelsea casually stole stuff off of Sam's plate.
"You have your own!" Sam said one of the times he caught her hand stealing a piece of rib meat from his plate.
"Yours is all pulled apart!" She replied back, smiling mischievously at Sam.
Dean stood not too far away, smiling a little at the interaction, on the phone with Bobby.
"I know, Bobby, but there's got to be another way. I don't know. Keep digging. I mean, if Crowley thinks we're just gonna-"
"Crowley thinks you're just gonna what, Dean?" Crowley said, randomly appearing behind Dean. Dean whipped around, and both the other Winchester siblings looked up from their plates. "Is that Bobby Singer? Give him a kiss for me."
"I'll call you back." Dean said, hanging up on Bobby.
"Good news, boys - and girl! I've got a job for you." Crowley said, turning to look at Chelsea and Sam, pulling out the chair across from Chelsea as Dean sat down beside Crowley.
"I'm gonna say this once. You can take your job and shove it up your ass." Dean said.
"Is that any way to talk to your boss?" Crowley asked.
"You're not my boss, dickbag."
"Dean, Dean. Been through this. Quit clutching your pearls. You've been working for me for some time now. Sam here, longer."
"We didn't know." Sam said.
"Like that makes a difference to you. You'd sell your siblings for a dollar right now if you really needed a soda." Crowley said, and Dean's facial expression pained a bit.
"Look, I'm sending you–" Crowley began.
"No." Chelsea said.
"Beg pardon?"
"I've done some shady stuff in my time, but I am not doing this. No."
"Ten quid says you will." Crowley leveled, locked in a staring contest with the youngest Winchester. Crowley touched the back of Sam's hand, which started to sizzle. Sam yelped, and Crowley let go, leaving a burn across the back of Sam's hand.
"You like pain, Sam? You like Hell? You need to stop thinking of this as some kind of deal. This is a hostage situation, you arrogant little thug. I own your brother! Do you understand me?"
Chelsea looked away from the demon. Crowley snapped his fingers, and the burn on the back of Sam's hand disappeared.
"Come on, Dean, smile. It's not that bad. Here's incentive – you bag me a live alpha, and I'll give you little Sammy's soul back, with a cherry on top." Crowley said, changing gears and focusing on the oldest Winchester.
"What, alpha vamp not good enough for you?" Sam asked.
"Best mind where you poke your nose, if you want to keep it. Your merry little hike up the food chain starts here." Crowley said, setting a newspaper down on the table. "Businessman found dead in his car – chest ripped open..."
Sam picked up the newspaper, holding it so Chelsea could read the headline, which said 'Businessman Falls Victim to Animal Attack'.
"...heart missing. Sounds like?" Crowley continued as Sam passed the paper to Dean.
"Werewolf."
"No, it's not a full moon." Chelsea said, looking up at Crowley.
"Werewolves turning on the full moon – so '09."
"He's right. Samuel and I ganked one about six months back on the half-moon. Things have been out of whack for a while now, I guess." Sam said.
"Yeah, I guess." Dean commented with a raised eyebrow.
"So, it's settled then. You bag the howler, bring it home to papa. See you soon, kids." Crowley said, and then disappeared.
Dean drove along the road later than night. Sam sat in the passengers seat, and Chelsea was leaning over the bench seat from the back, talking with Sam about the case.
"So, the vic's a real class act. Owned a bunch of slum-grade apartments. Couple houses, too."
"So this is it? This is – this is what you're gonna do?" Dean asked.
"What am I doing?" Sam asked, almost sounding like he might be worried he was pissing Dean off.
"Crowley. He's so far up our asses we're – we're – we're coughing sulfur, but you – you're just gonna work the case?"
"Dean, he's got us by the short and curlies. What else are we supposed to do?" Chelsea asked.
"It's just – you know, man, I...I'm working for a demon now. I don't even know who you are. Our sister is mated to a man in the same place Crowley's about to pull your soul out of. I just...I just need a second to adjust." Dean said, and Chelsea leaned back. Sam glanced at her, obviously noticing the comment bothered her, before replying to Dean.
"Look...this is a crap situation. I get it. But, Dean, Chelsea is the same little sister she's always been, and I am still me – same melon, same memories. I-I still like the same music. I still think about Suzie Heizer."
"Biology class Suzie Heizer?" Dean raised an eyebrow.
"Can you blame me? Look, I know you don't trust me. And I can't take back what I did. But I'm going to prove it to you. I'm still your brother."
Dean and Sam shared a look, and Chelsea, without meeting Sam's eyes, squeezed Sam's shoulder.
Sam, Dean, and Chelsea approached the crime scene in their FBI suits, moving towards a detective standing next to the body.
As the coroners picked the body, the three siblings flipped open their badges.
"How you doing? Agents Morgan, Holt, and Wilson." Dean said.
"Feds?" The detective asked.
"Yeah." Sam answered.
"What are the Feds doing here?"
"Oh, we're specialists. They call us in to answer the questions of mouth-breathing dick monkeys." Sam went on, and the detective, Dean, and Chelsea all turned to him.
"So, you gonna walk us through this, or, uh..."
"Dock worker. Guy on the morning shift found him – chest ripped wide open." The detective said.
"Same as the body in the car?" Chelsea asked.
"Yeah, second one in two days." The detective said, looking up at her. "Little young to be FBI, aren't you?"
"You're too kind." Chelsea said, looking away from him. It was a common occurrence, for people to notice her young age during these interactions.
"Internal organs missing on both vics? Like their hearts?" Dean pressed forward, moving away from that topic.
"Uh... looks like it, yeah. How'd you know?"
"So, this guy, he – he have any enemies?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, plenty, but, uh, I don't think it was a wolf or possibly a cougar that had a beef with the guy. You do realize these were animal attacks?"
"An animal out here. What, you think it came for the sailing?" Chelsea asked, and the detective met her eyes.
Dean laid face down on the motel bed. A small snap of a sound woke him, and he rolled over to see Sam dressed in a suit, organizing papers at the table. Dean looked over to the other bed, where Chelsea was curled up on her side, back to Dean.
"Morning." Sam said softly, apparently aware of their sleeping sister.
"You didn't sleep. 'Cause you don't...sleep." Dean commented.
"Right." Sam said.
"Yeah. That's not creepy at all."
"Not like I can help it. So, you gonna just lay there staring at me or you want to hear what I dug up?" Sam asked, putting on his suit jacket. Dean looked over at their sister, and then reached up, pulling the pillow down that he'd just been laying on, and chucking it at Chelsea. She immediately shot up, pistol in hand, aimed at the side of the bed the pillow had just hit her from, eyes wide and wild.
"Morning, killer." Dean said, and Chelsea looked up at him. Annoyance filled her eyes as she looked between Sam and Dean, and then she picked up the pillow and chucked it back at Dean.
"Go ahead, Sam." Dean said, smiling lightly as he put the pillow back where it belonged.
"All right. So, we know that werewolves are basically id gone wild, right? I mean, whoever they hate, they kill when they wolf out. So, I've been playing connect the victims."
"And?" Dean asked as Chelsea yawned and rubbed her eyes, obviously trying to wake up and pay attention. Sam started putting papers and a briefcase.
"And I think I found a common denominator. So come on. Uh..." Sam pulled out the badges from his pocket, and tossed them to Dean and their sister. "Get the lead out, huh?"
Dean and Chelsea shared a look.
"Let us get dressed, Robocop." Dean said, and the two got out of bed.
Dean, Sam, and Chelsea pulled up and parked outside a house in the suburbs. Sam got out, stuffing his pistol into the back of his pants.
Sam knocked on the front door. A woman carrying a young boy answered the door, and the three siblings flipped open their badges.
"Yes, can I help you?" She asked.
"Is Cal Garrigan at home? We've got a few questions we'd like to ask him."
The woman smiled.
"Yeah. Um, come in." She set the boy down in the kitchen and handed him a toy.
"Honey, um, why don't you go play in your room for a little while, okay?"
She began clearing toys off the kitchen table.
"Excuse the mess. Please sit."
The three Winchesters sat at the table.
"Um... can I get you guys anything?" She asked them.
"No, thank you. Um, so Cal is your boyfriend?" Dean started.
"That's right."
"And where is he?"
"Uh, sleeping, I think."
"You mind telling him up and at 'em? He's got some guests." Chelsea said.
"Yeah. Yeah, of course." She said, moving to leave the room, stopping as a groaning man entered, hand to the head.
"Cal..." She started. The German Shepherd from the couch growled and barked.
"Lucky, shh!" Cal said. The Shepherd growled once again.
"These are Agents..." The woman said, trying to redirect Cal's attention.
"Morgan, Holt, and Wilson. Morning...ish." Dean said.
"Hey. What's this?" Cal asked.
"You out late last night, Cal?" Chelsea asked as Cal poured himself a cup of coffee.
"Just, uh, you know, a couple beers with friends."
"How many's a couple?"
"I don't know. Three, four tops."
"If all you had was beer, then how come you're sweating vodka? And looks to me like you slept in those clothes. Am I right?" Sam asked.
"I don't know. I – I guess."
"So what you're saying is, you got blind drunk, you blacked out. Something tells me this isn't the first time." Chelsea said.
"So, Cal, truthfully, who knows what you've really been up to at night?" Sam went on.
"Look, what's this about?" Cal asked with a sigh.
"We're investigating the death of Ronald Garrigan." Sam said.
"My brother?" Cal asked. He looked to the woman, who shrugged.
"Sorry for your loss." Dean said.
"Yeah, I thought that was some kind of animal attack." Cal said.
"No love lost between the two of you, huh?" Chelsea said.
"Look, we had our differences, I guess. You love your brother, of course, but... Ron had a lot of problems. He was, uh, volatile."
"Last time he was here, you called the cops?" Chelsea went on.
"Yeah, look, he came in here all messed up, and he was yelling. He shoved Mandy. So, yeah, I called the cops. I don't see how that has to do with –"
"Your landlord was found dead this week. Were you aware of that?" Sam asked.
"Saw it in the papers. Why?"
"Well, you two were pretty far behind on your rent, right? He had sent eviction papers?"
"I – I'm sorry. That was an animal attack." Mandy said.
Sam and Chelsea shared a look.
"Funny enough, yeah – both of 'em were." Chelsea said.
"So, great, great. Yeah, guys. What in the hell do you think I had to do with 'em?" Cal asked, getting frustrated.
"Just following procedure. Had to ask. You two have a good day." Dean said, trying to diffuse some of the tension in the room.
The three sibling walked toward the Impala.
"So, Cal's a prince." Sam said.
"Yeah, doesn't even know where he was last night." Chelsea commented.
"Bag him now?" Sam asked.
"No. We make sure." Dean said.
"Really?" Sam and Chelsea asked in unison.
"Before we hand him over to a lifetime of demon rape? Yeah, really."
The three got into the car and pulled away.
Dean pulled the Impala up to a garage that night, across the street from a small house where a group of men where arriving, hooting and hollering. The garage door of the house across the street rolled up, revealing the furnished garage that looked like a barroom.
"Boy, Cal just doesn't know when to quit." Sam said.
"Three scuzzy bars, one scuzzy strip club, a chili-dog joint, seven or eight nightcaps, and now...scotches in the library. I'm getting cirrhosis just watching this. Other than that, we got squat." Dean said.
"Let's just see." Chelsea said, leaning over the bench seat between her brothers.
Hours later, Dean sighed.
"Dude, sun's up." Dean said. "This guy's still on two legs. In theory. He ain't wolfing out."
"Well, not tonight, anyway." Sam said.
"Let's head back. We can re-attack this in a couple hours." Dean started the Impala, driving away.
Later that very same day, the three Winchester siblings arrived to the scene of Cal's death. Cal's body was being zipped into a body bag and wheeled away on a stretcher.
"I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that it's not Cal." Dean said.
"Masterful deduction, Sherlock." Chelsea said.
"I mean, a werewolf attack in daylight? This whole thing is just weird." Dean went on.
"Dogs and cats living together – mass hysteria. So, you know this means that we're down to one suspect, right?" Sam said.
"I know."
"I mean, Mandy is right at the deep end of the vic pool. Can you do it?" Sam asked Dean, obviously not worried about Chelsea.
"Do what?" Dean asked.
"Shove her in the trunk, serve her up to Crowley." Sam said like it was no problem at all.
"Yeah, Sam, I can do it." Dean said.
Mandy stood outside her house with Lucky, the German Shepherd, on a leash. The Impala pulled up across the street, and the three Winchesters got out of the car.
"Ma'am." Dean said.
"Agents. What are you doing here?" Mandy asked.
"Nobody called you?" Chelsea asked.
"Called me about what?"
Sam, Dean, Chelsea, and Mandy sat at the table. Lucky was seated at the dog bed next to the kitchen table.
"I'm sorry. I just can't believe it." Mandy said.
"I'm really very sorry." Dean said.
"Ma'am, I know this isn't the best time, but we'd like you to come with us." Sam said.
"Why? You think I have something to do with this? With Cal?"
"Of course not. We just got a few questions – i's and t's, mostly."
"I, uh... Could we do it later?"
"I'm afraid not." Sam said. Mandy turned to look at him, though he remained unmoved in the slightest.
"Oh. Uh – uh, my kid has the flu, um, and he was up all night, so –"
"Well, is there a neighbor or a friend who can watch him while you're gone?" Sam pushed.
"I'm sorry. You said your boy was up all night?" Chelsea asked.
"Uh, yeah."
"Were you with him all night?" Chelsea continued.
"Um – uh – well, I had, um, half an hour of sleep, maybe."
"Can I talk to your son?" Chelsea asked.
"Why?" Mandy asked Chelsea.
"Yeah, what difference does that make, Agent Morgan?"
Chelsea turned to Sam.
"Trust me. It's important." Chelsea turned back to Mandy. "Please?"
The three Winchesters walked toward the Impala.
"Well, it wasn't her." Chelsea said.
"You don't know that." Sam said.
"She's got an alibi." Chelsea said.
"She's lying."
"You heard the kid, dude. She's not lying."
"Fine. She still had time to wolf out, Chels. The last werewolf was in bed, with me, and she wolfed out."
"Don't make this personal. Look, all I'm saying is that between this and the daylight attacks, something's not adding up."
Chelsea and Dean stood on one side of the Impala, Sam on the other.
"I'm not just gonna hand her over to Crowley until we figure out what. You understand?" Chelsea said, frustrated.
"Okay. Okay. I understand. How 'bout you two go check out Cal's crime scene, see if we're missing anything. I'll come back and keep an eye on Amanda."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. No, how 'bout you go and we'll stay here?" Dean asked.
"Dean, I still know how to do my job. I'm just gonna watch her. That's all. Trust me."
Sam got into the car, and Dean and Chelsea shared a look.
"Uh-huh."
Sam was leaned against playground equipment, watching the house.
Lucky's head poked through a window, and then lowered back down, out of sight. A moment later, A naked man straightened up in the window where Lucky had just been, and stretched. Sam grabbed his binoculars, looking at the man. The man walked out of the room, and Sam cocked his gun from the playground.
The mysterious man reappeared, wearing clothes. He left the house, and crossed the street toward the park where Sam was. The man stopped near the middle of the road, sniffing at the air near the park. A moment later, he continued to move toward the park. The mysterious dog man met another guy near the park, waiting underneath a tree. Sam watched the interaction, which looked tense, as the mysterious man hung his head for most of the interaction. Sam raised his gun as the man started walking back toward the park. Sam followed the dog man with the gun, until he stopped at the park fence, one again sniffing at the air. Sam pressed himself against the wall of a storage garage, staying still. The dog man turned to look in Sam's direction.
A very tense moment passed, when Sam's eyes locked on the mysterious man, and then the dog man took off running in the opposite direction, and Sam followed suit. The dog man hopped the other side of the fence, and started unzipping his jacket as he landed. A moment later, as Sam hopped over the same fence, the man was back in German Shepherd form, confirming Sam's theory that the man was - in fact -Lucky, Mandy's dog. Sam stopped to pick up Lucky's clothes, and continued the chase toward the street Lucky was headed for. A van braked hard as the dog ran out into the road.
Sam paused, gun drawn, near the the street, where he could hear people from the car, and see a man pick up Lucky and load him into the van.
"Hey!" Sam yelled, running toward the street, waving his arms. "Wait, wait, wait! Wait, wait! Mister! Hey, mister, wait! That's my dog!" The van drove away just as Sam reached the road. "That's my dog."
Dean sat on the edge of the bed, looking at his cell phone, with Lisa's contact highlighted.
"Not worth it, Dean." Chelsea commented from where she sat on her bed, doing something on her laptop. Dean set the phone down.
"You and Sam seem awfully close recently." Dean said.
Chelsea looked up at Dean, wondering where he was going with this. Dean raised an eyebrow at her.
"That's not our brother, Chels."
She scoffed.
"That is our brother, Dean." She said. "Just not the way he always has been. You've been so busy pushing him away that you haven't even noticed. He is still Sam. He's still smart, he still researches every case until he knows everything about it, he still complains about your music, he still fights for shotgun despite me calling it every single time. He still plays rock before scissors in rock-paper-scissors, and he still picks apart his ribs." Chelsea went on. "At the compound where Samuel was keeping the Alpha vampire, he put himself between me and the cage."
Dean's phone rang on the table, interrupting Chelsea's speech.
"And," She said, pointing at Dean's phone aggressively. "He still calls you before me when he's found something on a case, despite the fact that I'm nicer to him, and that, right now, I probably mean more to him than you."
Dean looked between the phone and her. The youngest Winchester set her jaw. "We owe him the benefit of the doubt."
A moment passed between the two siblings, and then Dean picked up the phone.
"Hey." He answered, throwing it on speaker.
"Hey, man, it's me."
"Well, we got bupkis here." Dean said.
"I definitely got something. It ain't a werewolf, for one." Sam said. Dean looked up at Chelsea.
"Yeah, what is it?"
"Skinwalker."
"A skinwalker? As in..." Chelsea started, raising an eyebrow.
"As in, the family dog seriously needs a neuter." Sam said.
"Wow. I haven't heard of a skinwalker in years." Dean said, gesturing to Chelsea to grab John's journal. She got up from the bed and moved to grab it out of Dean's bag. "I'm actually a little rusty on the profile." Dean went on.
"You and me both. Uh, I just got the low down from Bobby. They can change anywhere, anytime. Skinwalkers infect you with a single bite. Otherwise, they're basically a werewolf cousin – silver will drop 'em, they chow hearts like sausages."
"So what happened? Did you catch him?" Chelsea asked, looking over Dean's shoulder to read over the skinwalker notes of their father's journal.
"Not exactly." Sam said. "But I have some idea where he might be."
Dean, Sam, and Chelsea walked into a room of the Erie County Domestic Animal Hospital containing all the dogs, each in their own cage. Chelsea spotted Lucky, the German Shepherd.
"I always wanted a German Shep." She said to no one in particular.
"Hiya, Lucky. Bad dog." Dean said, crouching down in front of the cage. "First things first." Dean held up his gun and took out the magazine. He held the clip up to the dog.
"You see this? This is silver. Don't say I didn't warn you."
Dean put the magazine back in his pistol.
"Okay, time to go. Now, we can either do this the easy way –" He held up a pair of jeans. "Hmm?" He switched hands, lifting up a prong collar. "Or the hard way."
Lucky whimpered a bit, and Sam let out a light chuckle. Dean clicked his tongue, and then turned around to look at Sam.
"What? Soul or not, that's funny."
Chelsea smiled at her soulless brother.
"You're terrible." She mumbled.
Lucky barked in the cage.
Back at the motel, the Winchester siblings had Lucky's human form tied down in a chair. Dean and Chelsea sat on the edge of a bed, and Sam sat in a chair across the room.
"Well, I got to tell you, Lucky, you got us stumped. I mean, why shack up with the family? Is it a kinky thing? Do you like to play with your food? Roll over, Lucky. Speak."
"Go to hell." Lucky said.
"Already been. Didn't agree with me. So, look..." Sam stood, picking up a knife from the motel table. "...how about I take this silver knife, and start carving some dog until you behave?"
"You do what you got to do." Lucky said, clearly apprehensive.
Sam approached Lucky, and Chelsea held up a hand. Sam turned to look at her, seeing her eyebrows knit together like she was thinking.
"Hang on, Sam." She said, and then turned her attention back to Lucky. "Listen, you don't have to tell me why you're with the family. I get it."
"Oh, you do, do you?"
"You killed every threat that came near them. You care about them, in your own whack-a-doodle kind of way. It's obvious. What I want to know is, who was that guy you were kibitzing with? He a skinwalker, too?" Chelsea asked, and Dean's eyes widened. A moment passed between the group.
"Look, I can't say anything."
"But if you don't, then you're gonna put the girl and the little boy in danger. And sooner or later, all this crap is gonna come for them. Now, look–" Chelsea started, standing up. "We don't give a rat's ass about you. We want to help them. That's our angle. That's it."
Chelsea raised an eyebrow at the skinwalker.
A long pause stretched between them.
"Yeah, that guy, he's a... whatever it is I am. And he's not the only one."
"How many are you?" Dean asked.
"About 30. We were all -- we were kind of recruited."
"Recruited?" Sam asked.
"Yeah. Me, I was living on the streets. They found me. They told me one small bite, I'd be strong, I'd be fast."
"Sniffing people's butts? Yeah, that's a real step up." Dean commented.
"Well, it was for me."
"Where is this little Scooby gang of yours?" Dean asked, getting up from the bed and moving to the back of Lucky's chair.
"Everywhere. We're out there finding families, and once they take us in, we lay low."
"'Lay low'? What the hell's that mean?" Chelsea asked.
"Well, we're waiting for the word." Lucky said.
"What word?" Dean asked.
"Once we're settled, we get the signal...and we all turn on our families. We change them, all in one night. 30 becomes 150."
"God, you're a sleeper cell." Dean said.
"Yeah, well, that's one way to say it."
"So you're waiting for word from who? Who organized you?" Sam asked.
"There's a pack leader." Lucky said.
"Your Alpha?" Sam asked, excited.
"What's an Alpha?" Lucky asked, and Chelsea furrowed her eyebrows.
"The first skinwalker, the strongest." She explained.
"Well, he's plenty strong, but, no, I – I don't think so. I'm pretty sure there's guys like him in other towns. We're not the only pack out there."
The three Winchesters shared a look.
"Fantastic. Then you can help us stop him." Dean said.
"Oh, no, I can't. No." Lucky said, clearly afraid.
"Yes, you can." Dean said, coming to Lucky's front again.
"No, you guys don't get it. No one can. These guys who turned me – they're ruthless."
Sam whistled like one normally would to a dog, holding up a red ball. Dean and Chelsea turned to their brother. The skinwalker met Sam's eyes, and Sam threw the ball across the room gently.
Chelsea caught it.
"Sam." She chided. "Not helping."
"Fetch this, dick." Lucky said solemnly.
"Listen to me." Dean said, crouching in front of Lucky. "What are you gonna do to that family, really? You gonna put your jaws around that little boy's throat? Clamp down, listen to him cry for his mom? 'Cause I'm gonna guess that these are the only people who in your pathetic life have ever showed you any kindness. So it's either that... or you can help us stop it." Dean said, quirking an eyebrow questioningly.
Chelsea stood next to Dean at the trunk of the Impala, which was parked under a bridge.
"You think you can pull this off?" Dean asked Chelsea.
"Absolutely." She said.
Dean smiled at her as Sam walked up to them.
"So... How are we supposed to get near something that can smell us a hundred yards off?" He asked.
"We don't." Dean said, opening a case with a rifle inside.
"The pack leader. We're taking him down?" Sam asked.
"Yeah. Got a better idea?"
"No, I... Crowley's not gonna be too happy about that."
"Who gives a rat's ass?" Chelsea said.
"We let that thing live one second, and it sends out that psychic dog whistle and," Dean lifted his hands in a crash-and-burn type of gesture. "Phew!"
"On the other hand, it could lead us to an Alpha. Then Crowley would give me my soul back." Sam said.
"Are you kidding? 150 people turned into monsters. That's what you want?" Dean said, and Chelsea put a hand on his forearm, trying to calm him down.
"No. Of course not. I... I'm just asking." Sam said.
Dean's jaw set.
"All right, you know what? That's it." He said.
"What?" Sam asked.
"Dean," Chelsea started.
"You say you're 'just folks,' yeah? That – that you like baseball and apple pie or whatever. But truth is, I don't know what you are 'cause you're not Sam."
"Dean." Chelsea pressed.
"Dean, come on." Sam tried.
"I mean, it's your gigantor body and – and maybe your brain, but it's not you. So just... stop pretending. Do us both a favor."
Dean grabbed the rifle case and walked away from the Impala.
Chelsea looked at her oldest brother disbelievingly, and then turned a look of sympathy on Sam. After seeing the look, Sam picked up a bag from the trunk, closed it, and walked after Dean.
Chelsea sighed.
"Fucking men." She muttered, following after her brothers.
Lucky waited outside a building with a huge garage door. Chelsea stood, watching Lucky through the sights of a rifle from a nearby roof. Dean stood right next to her, the right side of her body flush with the left side of his so he could easily lean over and peer through the rifle sights if needed. Sam sat near the two, fiddling with silver bullets.
"He looks nervous, right?" Sam said, not even looking at Lucky.
"Wouldn't you be?" Chelsea asked.
"I'd double-cross us. I mean, he's got to realize that's his best bet, if he wants to keep breathing." Sam answered.
"Nah, he'll go through with it." Dean said.
"You mean 'cause he loves that family?"
"Yeah."
"I'd double-cross us." Sam said.
Chelsea pulled away from the scope to meet Dean's eyes.
"Thanks, Dexter. That's reassuring." She said.
"Just making conversation."
Looking back through the scope, Chelsea watched a vehicle pull up.
"Here we go." Chelsea said, and Sam shot up, on Dean's other side, looking through binoculars at what was going on below them.
Three men got out of the vehicle. The large garage door opened, and three more men came out of the building.
"That big guy, the driver – that's the guy Lucky met in the park." Sam said.
Chelsea put the crosshairs on a bald man, who was behind another burly man.
"And there's El Jefe." Dean said, peeking through Chelsea's scope.
"Take him out." Sam said.
"It's not clean. We got one shot at this – literally." She said.
Following him in the crosshairs, Chelsea watched the bald man walk over to Lucky and shake his head.
In the binos, Sam watched another man escort Mandy and Mandy's son out of the back of the vehicle.
"Take the shot." Sam said.
"I'm trying! She's in the way." Chelsea said.
"Take it anyway!"
Chelsea pulled away from the scope to look at Sam, who looked back at her.
Dean glanced at Chelsea, and his eyes conveyed everything she needed to know.
Don't.
Chelsea leaned back into the rifle.
Through the scope, she watched the bald man put an arm around Lucky and lead him inside the building. Lucky looked back at Mandy and her son.
"Come on, come on, come on." Chelsea muttered, waiting for an open shot.
With the garage door closing, Chelsea picked up the rifle, clearly frustrated.
"So, plan B?"
"We've got one?" Chelsea asked her brothers.
Chelsea, Sam, and Dean's only advantage was the element of surprise, and they didn't even really have that, considering the skinwalker could very well get a 100-yard head start if they sniffed any one of them out.
So Chelsea was surprised when they made it all the way to the doors of the room before one of the skinwalkers noticed their scent.
"What is that?" He asked, and Sam stepped out of a partition and lifted his pistol, firing at the bald man.
The shot hit him right in the face, killing him instantly. Mandy gasped.
A far off shot hit another skinwalker, and a second shot hit a third. The burly man ducked, spotting where Chelsea was firing from up near the ceiling. Her third shot fired and landed, killing another skinwalker. Two of the skinwalkers took off running, and Sam ran after them as Chelsea fired another shot from the ceiling.
Dean followed Lucky to his family.
"Mandy! Come on, come on." Lucky said.
"Who are you? I don't even know you!" She cried.
"Yes, you do." Dean said.
"Trust me, I'm trying to help. Come on, come on!" Lucky continued, and it got Mandy and her son to get up and get away from the gunfire. Dean stayed back as Lucky lead his family away, looking up at Chelsea hidden in the ceiling.
Sam continued to chase after one of the men, shooting at him repeatedly.
"Dean!" Sam yelled. Dean took off running toward the partition Sam had originally emerged from.
The man Sam was chasing was hidden behind some equipment. Sam came around the corner, gun out and aimed, only to find a pile of clothes on the floor.
He raised an eyebrow, realizing that the skinwalker had transitioned into his dog form and was somewhere in the building, likely stalking him.
Chelsea kept her eyes looking through the scope, trying to find any of the remaining skinwalkers. A growl behind her lifted every one of her neck hairs. Chelsea jumped, trying to turn, only to have the barrel of the gun be stuck in the grill of the ceiling where she was standing to take fire.
A wolf came running at her, leaping from the ground just in time for her to pull the pistol out of its holster, and fire the gun. By the time the wolf landed back on the ground, he'd transitioned back into his human form, and laid face down with a gunshot wound through his back.
Chelsea barely gave him a second glance, readjusting the rifle to her shoulder and looking back through the scope, if only to ensure nothing had changed in the time she'd looked away. Lucky still stood outside the door where he'd stuffed Mandy and her son, and Sam and Dean were off somewhere in the back, chasing down the remaining skinwalkers.
"You're protecting them?" The burly man asked Lucky, out of frame of the scope, and her vision, but loud enough for her to hear him. "After what I did for you? I gave you your life back!"
Chelsea adjusted, trying to get sight on the other man, but there were too many pipes in the way.
"Them? You're nothing to them. You're a dog."
Lucky lurched forward, punching the larger man in the face. From Chelsea's point of view, it was a good punch. But the larger man just laughed.
"I-I was gonna turn them. But now I'm gonna kill 'em." He growled, and then punched Lucky in the face, sending him flying into the office door and shattering the glass. Mandy screamed from inside.
Far off, past the partition, Chelsea heard a gun fire. She almost turned in that direction when Lucky got back to his feet, keeping himself between the large man and the door to his family. Chelsea watched at Lucky keeled over, and all of a sudden became a dog.
"Lucky?!" Mandy asked frantically as Lucky began to bark at the bigger man.
"So you think this is gonna be a dogfight?" The large man asked with a laugh, and then he removed a gun from his holster.
Chelsea nearly panicked. Not that she cared what happened to Lucky, but that she still couldn't get a shot at the burly man before he killed Lucky and Lucky's human family. The burly dude fired his gun, and Lucky dropped with a whimper. Chelsea held still, praying the other skinwalker would take two steps forward.
"Silver bullet, Lucky." The larger man said, just as he took the step Chelsea needed to give her an open shot.
The burly man aimed his gun for Lucky's head.
"Gotcha." Chelsea muttered, and squeezed the trigger.
The bullet hit the burly skinwalker right in the chest, sending him backwards and right to the ground.
Sam and Dean came out of the partition together, guns up and aimed, only to find all the skinwalkers dead on the ground. Sam spotted Lucky, still laying on the ground in his German Shepherd form. Sam looked down to check his magazine, and how many bullets he had left.
When he looked up, Lucky was gone, only a pool of blood remaining where he'd just been.
Dean was already moving toward the office door where Mandy and her son were, obviously paying no attention to the Shepherd that had started all of this.
"I'll never look at a dog the same." Dean said as they headed towards a picnic table in a park.
"I begged John for years." Chelsea muttered, looking straight forward at the river. "I wanted a dog more than anything in the world as a kid."
"I know." Dean answered. "Makes you wonder, though, huh?"
"What?" Sam asked as they sat at the picnic table.
They sat at a picnic table near a river, Dean on one side and Chelsea and Sam on the other.
"How many packs are out there. What if they're all just waiting for the signal, you know?"
"So...I was thinking." Sam said, changing the subject. "You were right." He said to Dean.
"About?"
"I'm not your brother. I'm not Sam." Chelsea stiffened next to him.
"Okay." Dean said warily.
"Hang on," Chelsea started.
"All that 'blah, blah, blah,' about being the old me? Crap. Like Lisa and Ben, right? I've been acting like I care about them. And you," Sam looked over at Chelsea. "I've been acting like this brother you think you recognize, this brother that cares about you." Sam looked back to Dean, who was watching Chelsea with a look that told Sam he was inches away from knocking him out. "But I don't. I couldn't care less."
"Is this supposed to make me feel better?" Dean asked, getting frustrated at the same time as Chelsea leaned away from Sam, food completely forgotten as a look of pure betrayal crossed her face.
"You wanted the real me. This is it. I don't care about them. I don't even really care about you two. Except that...I need your help. And you're clearly not gonna stick around for much longer unless I give it to you straight, so...I've done a lot worse than you know. I've killed innocent people in the line of duty. But I'm pretty sure it's not something the old me could've done. And maybe I should feel guilty. But I don't."
"Sam, get to the punch line." Dean said, done with this conversation already.
"I don't know if how I am is better or worse. It's different. You get the job done, and nothing really hurts. That's not the worst thing. But I've been thinking. I was that other Sam for a long time, and it was...it was kinda harder. But there are also things about it I remember that I...let's just say I think I should probably go back to being him."
"That's very interesting. It's a step." Dean said, putting his head down and looking at his hands.
"So?" Sam asked.
A long pause stretched between the Winchester trio.
"We do what we got to do. And we get my brother back." Dean said, meeting Sam's eyes.
He looked over at their sister, who clearly was no longer with him on this.
Seeing that Dean was looking for her confirmation, Chelsea's jaw set, and she rolled up her bag of perfectly good, barely touched food, and chucked it into a trash can as she walked by on her way back to the Impala.
Dean looked back to Sam, who had raised one eyebrow, clearly unmoved by the reaction.
Dean nodded lightly.
"She'll come around." Dean said, though he wasn't sure if it was to Sam, or in an attempt to convince himself.