On the drive to nowhere in particular, Dean insisted on pulling over to eat at this barbecue place he saw sitting on the side of the road in the middle of absolutely nowhere. I wasn't in the mood to eat anything, but Dean insisted that I needed to, which is why I was currently forcing myself to shovel down the serving of pulled pork he'd ordered for me.
We've gone through I don't even know how many books, and spent I don't even know how many hours attempting to think up solutions to this mess we'd found ourselves in, and still hadn't figured out anything viable to get Sam's soul back. I kept holding out hope that Bobby would call and tell us he found a way, but we hadn't heard from him since my initial call last night.
On top of everything else, my paranoia has been off the charts. I kept looking over my shoulder, waiting for Crowley to just pop up out of the blue with a job for us. So needless to say, I hadn't slept.
As I absentmindedly picked on the buttered roll that came with my plate of food, across from me, Sam kept picking up forkfulls of his lunch, letting it slide off the fork and back into a pile in his plate where it landed with an audible plop.
I cringed every time, not able to take it anymore when he did it again. "Can you stop that? I'm about to blow chunks here."
Sam glanced over at me with a grimace. "Aim it the other way."
"I don't know, Bobby. But there's got to me another way," Dean spoke into the phone as he exited the restaurant to sit at the table with us. My heart fell as I listened to Dean's side of the conversation, knowing by his response that Bobby hadn't found anything. Dean sighed. "Keep digging. I mean, if Crowley just thinks we're gonna-"
"Crowley thinks you're just doing to what, Dean?" Crowley questioned, suddenly appearing behind Dean. The three of us jumped at his presence, all on guard. Crowley smiled sinisterly. "Is that Bobby Singer? Give him a kiss for me."
"I'll call you back," Dean told Bobby, swiftly shutting the phone and stuffing it into his pocket. He walked over to the table Sam and I sat at, sliding into the chair next to me.
"Good news! I've got a job for you," Crowley announced, pulling the chair out next to Sam, sitting down on it backwards.
"I'm gonna say this once. You can take your job and shove it up your ass," Dean hissed.
"Is that any way to talk to your boss?"
"You're not my boss, dickbag."
"Dean. We've been through this," Crowley muttered disapprovingly. "Quit clutching your pearls. You've been working for me for some time now. Sam here, longer."
"We didn't know," Sam pointed out.
"Like that makes a difference to you. You'd sell your brother for a dollar right now if you really needed a soda," Crowley waved him off. Dean looked away, hurt clear on his face. Crowley readjusted himself on the chair, pulling up a newspaper that was tucked under his arm. "Look, I'm sending you-"
"No," Dean said flat out, looking back to the demon as though he'd made his final choice. "I'm not doing this right now."
"Oh, you're not? Ten quid says you will," Crowley stated, touching the top of Sam's hand. Sam gasped in pain as his flesh sizzled, a burn spreading around across it. "You like pain, Sam? You like hell?" Crowley pressed. Sam stayed quiet, holding onto the top of his hand tightly. Crowley looked at Dean and I. "You need to stop thinking of this as some kind of deal. This is a hostage situation, you arrogant little thugs. Do you understand me?"
"We understand," I said, just wanting Sam to stop hurting. The pain on his face was the first real emotion I'd seen from him since he's been back, and it killed me. Crowley grinned, snapping his fingers. Sam released his hand, the pain washing away from his face in an instant as the burn disappeared.
"See, Dean? Even Victoria here is on board. Come on. Smile. It's not that bad," Crowley said, letting out a small sigh when Dean didn't respond. "Here's a little incentive. You bag me a live alpha and I'll give you little Sammy's soul back, with a cherry on top."
"What, the alpha vamp not good enough for you?" Sam asked.
"Best mind where you poke your nose, if you want to keep it," he told Sam before spreading the newspaper out on the table, pointing to an article with a title that read businessman falls victim to animal attack. "Your merry little hike up the food chain starts here. Businessman found dead in his car, chest ripped open, heart missing. Sounds like..."
"Werewolf," Sam finished.
"But it's not a full moon," I argued.
"Werewolves turning on the full moon," Crowley rolled his eyes. "So oh-nine."
"He's right. Samuel and I ganked one about six months back on the half-moon," Sam said. "Things have been out of whack for a while now, I guess."
"Yeah, I guess," Dean commented, sliding down in his chair a little.
"So, settled then. You bag the howler, bring it home to papa. See you soon," Crowley said, disappearing from the chair.
"Great," Dean grumbled, pushing his food away. Sam pulled out his laptop, typing away.
"At least now we know he'll leave us alone for a couple days," I pointed out, trying to find a positive here. "It'll give us more time to figure something out without having to worry about him popping up. Plus if we get the alpha, and Crowley does somehow keep up his end of the bargain, Sam gets his soul back. "
"The vic's a real class act," Sam mumbled before Dean could respond. "Owned a bunch of slum-grade apartments. Couple houses, too."
Dean scoffed, shaking his head. "Wow, really?"
"What?" Sam asked, looking up from the laptop.
"Crowley is so far up our asses we're coughing sulfur, but you're that quick to work the case?"
"What the hell else do you want me to do?"
"It's just- you know, man, I- I'm working for a demon now. I don't even know who you are. I just- I just need a second to adjust," Dean pulled in a deep breath, looking away. I put a comforting hand on his knee under the table.
"Look...this is a shit situation. I get it. But, Dean, I am still me. Same melon, same memories. I- I still like the same music. I still think about Suzie Heizer," Sam grinned slightly.
Dean looked up at him, an eyebrow raised. "Biology class Suzie Heizer?"
"Can you blame me?" Sam scoffed. Dean shrugged. Sam looked at the two of us. "Look, I know you guys 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."
BUFFALO, NY
DOCK - DAY
A flurry of people still moved around the dock, all interested in the sudden appearance of crime scene tape strewn across the usually calm dock where fishermen spent most of their days. Even though the cops were trying to keep everything under wraps, I could see a coroner zipping up the body bag across the way.
We made our way over to the detective in charge of the scene, flashing our badges as Dean introduced us. "How are you doing? Agents Holt, Wilson and Neff."
"Feds?" He questioned in confusion. "What are the feds doing here?"
"Oh, we're specialists," Sam chimed in. "They call us in to answer the questions of mouth-breathing dick monkeys."
Since I was standing slightly behind him, I subtly smacked Sam in the back, smiling at the detective. "Would you mind walking us through what happened here?"
"Uh, sure," he nodded. "Dock worker. Guy on the morning shift found him. Chest ripped wide open."
"Same as the body found in the car?"
"Yeah, second one in two days."
"Internal organs missing on both vics?" Sam asked. "Like their hearts?"
"Looks like it, yeah." The detective's brow furrowed. "How'd you know?"
"Did this guy have any enemies?"
"Plenty, but, uh, I don't think it was a wolf or possibly a cougar that had a beef with the guy," He replied, almost smiling. A look in his eyes that said we were being ridiculous. "You do realize these were animal attacks?"
"An animal out here. What, you think it came for, the sailing?" Dean questioned rhetorically, an eyebrow raised. The detective glanced up at us, a shrug the only answer he gave.
Back at the motel, Dean had barely gotten his shoes off before falling asleep face down on the bed. He was exhausted from driving all night. With the knowledge that Crowley was off our backs for the moment, I slept some in the car, so I wasn't too tired.
Since there wasn't much else to do, I was sitting at the table, going through some papers involving the case. Sam sat next to me, doing the same.
After clearing his throat for the third time, I looked up at him in question. "What is it?"
"Nothing," Sam shrugged. "I just, uh, I was wondering what you were gonna name...you know, it."
"Um," I paused. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't taken aback by his question. "I don't know, actually. We- we haven't really talked about it."
"Aren't you pretty far along?"
"Three months, I guess?" I muttered, that same guilty feeling setting in every time I thought about the fact that I hadn't actually gone to a doctor. The baby wasn't even here yet and I was already a horrible mother.
"So you and Dean, you really had a good life back that year, huh?"
"I mean, other than missing you...yeah, we did," I sighed, a moment of silence passing before the conversation we were having really clicked. "Why are you bringing that up? I don't really wanna talk about it."
"I'm just saying, if you and him weren't trying to have a kid, the two of you have to have been screwing each other a lot more than normal for you to get knocked up even on birth control."
I stared at him blankly for a moment, my mouth hanging open slightly. "Jesus Christ, Sam."
"What? It's the truth," Sam shrugged, unphased. I shook my head at him, going back to the papers on the table. "What are you gonna do when the kid's born?"
"What's with the twenty questions?" I snapped, not feeling comfortable talking about this. "Can we- I just don't wanna talk about it, okay?"
Sam nodded, uncaring. "Fine."
"Good," I snapped. I took advantage of the silence that enveloped the room then, continuing to go through the papers in front of me.
A few minutes later, Sam stood to his feet suddenly, a piece of paper in his hand. "Come on, we gotta go. I think I found something."
"Wait, what?" I questioned him as he began walking over to Dean. "Don't wake him up."
"Why not?"
"Because, Sam. Maybe you don't sleep, which is weird as all hell, by the way, but we do. He was up all night."
"He's been out of it for a half hour!"
"Big deal. Just leave him alone," I repeated. Sam rolled his eyes, smacking Dean's sock-covered foot anyway.
"Jesus fucking Christ, what just touched me!?" Dean exclaimed quickly. He looked over his shoulder, eyes wide in panic.
"You suck," I hissed to Sam with narrowed eyes before turning to Dean, my face softening. "Nothing, babe. Sam's a dick."
"I knew that," Dean mumbled, his voice calm now. He rolled over, rubbing his eyes.
"We're leaving." Sam said flatly, pulling on his jacket.
"Why?"
"Sam, you gotta give us more info. You can't just say jump and expect us to wonder how high," I folded my arms. Sam rolled his eyes, but relented.
"Alright, so, we know that werewolves are basically ID gone wild, right? I mean, whoever they hate, they kill when they wolf out. Well, I've been playing connect the victims. And I think I found a common denominator," Sam handed me the piece of paper he was holding with a man's ID printed out on it. He threw his arms out to the side looking at me expectantly. "Enough info?"
I glanced over the paper, looking back up to him. "Yes. Thank you."
"Good," Sam nodded, looking over to Dean, who was still on the bed. "Get the lead out, huh?"
After Dean put on his shoes and jacket, he took a couple shots of whiskey to wake himself up, as he said it, and we were off to the suspects house. Parking the Impala in the front, we made our way up the small concrete pathway that lead to their white front door.
Hearing the doorbell ring, a woman with dark brown hair, who, in our research, we found was named Amanda Duren, answered the door holding her four year old son, Aiden. A german shepherd stepped up beside her, tilting his head to the side as he watched us.
Seeing him, I was suddenly transported back to that weekend back in our house when Dean insisted that we go into the local shelter just for something to do. We came out having fallen in love with the cutest little german shepherd. It didn't take much convincing from Dean for me to agree to adopting him.
Though I couldn't help but tease him about the fact that not only would we be living in a house with white picket fence, we would also have a dog. He said he was fine with it as long as it wasn't a stupid-ass golden reteriver
We just started filling out the paperwork a couple days before Sam came back. We were going to name him Axel. God, that feels like a lifetime ago.
"Can I help you?" Amanda asked, snapping me back to the present. I blinked the mist from my eyes before it could turn into tears and the three of us showed her our ID's.
"Is Cal Garrington home?" I asked with a polite smile. "We have a few questions we'd like to ask him."
"Um, yeah. Come on in," she muttered, looking worried. Amanda stepped aside, allowing us to enter as she led us to the kitchen where she put Aiden down. The dog went over to his bed, laying down with a sigh. Amanda crouched down in front of Aiden, handing him the toys in her hands. "Honey, why don't you go play in your room for a bit, okay?"
The little boy looked up at us, so naturally, Dean and I smiled at him. Sam stayed stone-faced. Aiden ran off down the hallway, disappearing from our sight and Amanda began frantically clearing the rest of the toys and educational books off the table, placing them onto the counter.
"Excuse the mess, please sit," she gestured to the chairs.
"It's fine," I reassured her about the clutter as we sat at three of the four seats surrounding the small, round, kitchen table.
"Can I get you guys anything?"
"No thank you," Dean replied, wanting to get right to it. "So, is Cal your boyfriend?"
"That's right."
"And where is he?"
"Sleeping, I think."
"You mind telling him up and at 'em? He's got some guests," Dean said with a small smile.
Amanda nodded, turning to head down the hallway to retrieve Cal when a man with a closely shaved head rounded the corner looking disheveled. His hand on his head as he grimaced in pain. Behind us, the dog growled at him, barking once.
"Lucky, sh!" Cal hissed at the dog.
"Cal. These are agents…" Amanda trailed off.
"Holt, Wilson and Neff," I introduced us.
"Morning-ish," Dean commented.
"Hey. What's this?" Cal asked suspiciously, heading over to the coffee pot, pouring himself a cup.
"You out late last night, Cal?"
He smiled. "Just, uh, you know, a couple beers with friends."
"How many's a couple?"
"I don't know," Cal muttered, turning around to face us as he drank his coffee. "Three, four tops."
The boys and I shared a look. Sam spoke this time. "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?"
Cal looked over at Amanda, who seemed to be growing uncomfortable, before turning back to us. He chuckled. "I don't know, I- I guess."
"What you're saying is, you got blind drunk and blacked out," I said, watching Amanda's reaction closely. She looked to the ground, wringing her hands together. I looked back to Cal. "Something tells me it's not the first time, either."
"So, Cal, truthfully, who knows what you've really been up to at night?" Sam pressed.
"Look, what's this about?"
"We're investigating the death of Ronald Garrigan."
"My brother?" Cal asked He looked over to Amanda, but she just shrugged.
"Sorry for your loss," I said.
"I thought that was some kind of animal attack," he said coldly.
"No love lost between the two of you, huh?" I observed.
Cal placed his coffee cup down, folding his arms as he leaned back against the counter. "Look, we had our differences, I guess. You love your brother, of course, but... Ron had a lot of problems. He was, uh, volatile."
"The last time he was here, you called the cops," Sam reminded him.
"Yeah, look, he came in here all messed up, and he was yelling. He shoved Amanda. 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?"
"Saw it in the papers," Cal began to breathe heavily. "Why?"
"Well, you two were pretty far behind on your rent, right? He had sent eviction papers?"
Amanda smiled uncomfortably, folding her arms. "I- I'm sorry. That was an animal attack."
"Funny enough, yeah," Sam said pointedly, looking to Cal. "Both of them were."
"So, great. Yeah, guys. What in the hell do you think I had to do with them?" Cal asked, looking as though he was trying to stop himself from flipping out.
"Just following procedure," Dean said calmly. "Had to ask. You two have a good day."
With that, the three of us got up, letting ourselves out of the house. Sam waited until we were at the sidewalk before speaking.
"Well, Cal's a prince," He mumbled as we crossed the street.
"Yeah," Dean agreed. "He doesn't even know where he was last night."
"Bag him now?"
"No. We make sure," I said.
Sam furrowed his brow. "Really?"
"Before we hand him over to a lifetime of demon rape?" Dean scoffed, unlocking the Impala. "Yeah, really."
As soon as night began to fall, we headed back over to Cal's place, making sure to keep a safe distance as we watched him. His first stop wasn't all that surprising - he went to a bar with a couple other men. It was the six other stops he'd made throughout the night that was utterly shocking.
"Don't get me wrong," I muttered, leaning up onto the top of the front seat as Dean slowed the Impala to a stop a couple parking spaces down from the mechanic's garage Cal was pulling up in front of. "I've had my share of alcohol in my life," I looked to Dean. "I've seen you, Bobby and John drink like, a liquor store, each. But Jesus. This guy."
"Yeah, Cal just doesn't know when to quit," Sam agreed, watching as Cal entered the garage door after his buddy opened it.
The garage was furnished with a large neon sign on the back, a jukebox in the corner, a full sized bar lining the wall and a pool table in the middle of it all. One of the men handed Cal a beer that he quickly downed.
"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," Dean mumbled. "Other than that, we got squat."
"Maybe he's not our guy," I suggested, my eyes widening as Cal gulped down not a shot, but a glass of vodka in one shot. My stomach churned. "Oh my goodness."
Sam glanced back at me. "Let's just see."
My eyelids were starting to feel heavy, and as much as I didn't want to, I could feel myself drifting off to sleep. It felt like only a few moments had passed when the sound of the Impala's engine starting woke me up.
"Morning Cherry Pie," Dean smiled back at me.
"Morning?" I yawned. "Why didn't you get me up?"
"Nothing happened."
"He didn't turn?"
Dean shook his head. "No-"
"Not yet," Sam interjected.
"Sam, this guy's still on two legs. In theory. The sun's up. He ain't wolfing out," Dean said, putting the car in reverse. "Let's head back. We can re-attack this in a couple hours."
Surprisingly, Sam didn't argue and Dean pulled out of the parking lot. We found a small diner along the way back to the motel and stopped there, waiting in the car while Sam went inside to get us breakfast. The only reason we were even remotely okay with it was because we could see him though the large windows that lined the front of the building.
Waiting in line behind him was a mother and father, the latter of whom was holding a toddler. The little girl was smiling up at her parents as they spoke to her.
"Sam mentioned something to me yesterday," I said, my voice quiet. "Kinda made me think."
"What?" Dean asked, looking back at me over his shoulder.
"He asked...what we were going to name the baby."
Dean's posture stiffened slightly. "Oh."
"I just- I mean, should we have picked something by now?" I asked, feeling a slight panic rise in me. Part of me knew it was silly, that I should relax. But the other was egging my anxiety on. "Are we horrible for not having names picked out?"
"I- I don't think so," Dean mumbled, looking unsure. "We do kind of have a lot going on."
"Still," I sighed, beginning to wring my hands nervously. "We don't have much time left. And we don't even know what we're gonna do once they're born. We're horrendously unprepared."
"We always are," Dean tried to joke.
"Not funny," I mumbled. Dean glanced back, seeing the fear in my eyes. He gently pulled my hands apart, lacing his fingers through mine.
"Tor," he began, looking into my eyes. "We always figure it out. We always have, we always will. This isn't any different."
"Oh, I think it is," I muttered, biting my lip.
"Well, I don't."
"We can't even come up with a couple names, how are we supposed to handle everything else?"
"It's gonna be one of those things. When the time is right, we'll know, you know?"
Dean squeezed my hand reassuringly. "We've got this."
I couldn't tell whether he truly believed his own words or thought they were a bunch of bullshit, but in an attempt to keep myself sane, I chose to go with the former. The thought that he genuinely thought he could do this calmed me down, at least a little.
"When did you become Mr. Positivity?" I asked teasingly, trying to lighten the mood. The air in the car had gotten pretty thick during our conversation.
Dean pulled his arm back and checked his watch. "About fifteen minutes ago," he said, glancing back at me with a grin. I chuckled.
Out of nowhere, Sam ran out of the diner like a bat out of hell. Both Dean and I stiffened in worry as Sam reached the Impala. He flung the door open and tossed the bag of food he was holding onto Dean's lap.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"Another body," Sam answered. "I just got a call."
"Where?"
"Guess?"
GARAGE - DAY
We ate our breakfast quickly on the way over to the garage where we'd spent the tail end of last night. The coroners were zipping a bloody Cal up in a body bag as we stepped onto the scene, watching as they placed him onto a stretcher, wheeling him into their vehicle.
"I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that the wolf is not Cal," Dean pointed out.
"Masterful deduction, Sherlock," Sam commented, nodding for us to step away from the small crowd that had gathered.
"I mean, a werewolf attack in daylight?" Dean wondered aloud as we walked away from the scene.
"This whole thing is just weird," I added.
"Dogs and cats living together – mass hysteria," Sam stopped, turning to face us. "So, you know this means that we're down to one suspect, right?"
Dean glanced over at me before looking back to his brother with a nod. "I know."
"I mean, Mandy is right at the deep end of the vic pool. So, can you do it?"
"Do what?" I asked as Sam looked at me expectantly.
"Shove her in the trunk, serve her up to Crowley."
"What about Aiden?"
"Who?"
"Her son, Sam."
Sam shrugged. "Well, then he's one, too."
"You gonna bring him to Crowley, too?" I pressed.
"If we have to. If not-"
"Then you'll just leave the kid an orphan?"
"I'm sorry," Sam scoffed. "I thought we were doing this to get my soul back. You can't let your personal life affect the job, Tori."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "I actually have a soul here. It'd be tough for me to subject a kid to a life of torture. Unlike you, I guess."
"Alright, stop," Dean interjected, placing a hand between Sam and I, his eyes wide as he looked between us. "It- it's not gonna- let's just stop jumping to conclusions."
"Jumping to conclusions?" Sam threw his arms out to the side, letting them fall back with a thud. "Who else can it be?"
"I said stop, Sam."
Sam looked away from his brother, his jaw clenched. "Fine."
"Let's go talk to her."
Our drive over the Duren's was quiet and tense. My stomach filled with nerves every time I looked at Sam, who was staring blankly out of the window. At one point he caught my eye in the mirror, holding my gaze with his lifeless eyes for what felt like forever, but probably only lasted a second before he looked away.
The closer we got, the more worried I became for Aiden's safety. I had no idea what Sam was going to do. A few houses down from our destination, I could see Amanda exiting her house with Lucky, who was leashed up and ready for a walk. She stopped to talk to a woman and her daughter. The three smiled as they spoke to each other, the little girl patting the dog on top of the head.
Dean pulled the Impala up alongside the opposite side of the road and Amanda's face went white as soon as she saw us. She said her goodbyes to the woman and her daughter as we exited the Impala, waiting for the two to leave before making our way over to Amanda.
"Ma'am," Dean nodded in greeting.
"Agents. What are you doing here?" She asked, holding Lucky's leash tighter.
"Nobody called you?" I asked.
Her brow furrowed. "Called me about what?"
"I think we better head back inside."
"O- okay," She nodded, taking the lead back up the pathway to her home. We entered the house, the sound of cartoons coming from the TV faintly filtered through the rooms. Amanda brought us back into the kitchen and we all sat down.
"Cal was found dead this morning," I said, watching her closely to gauge her reaction
Amanda pulled in a sharp breath, her eyes eyes going wide, tears filling them instantly. "I- I- he, what?"
"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you," I told her honestly.
She swallowed hard, quickly grabbing a napkin off the table trying to pat her tears away before they fell down her cheeks. "I- I'm sorry," she apologized, sniffling. "I just can't believe it."
"Ma'am, I know this isn't the best time, but we'd like you to come with us," Sam said.
"Why?" She asked, realizing hitting her. "You think I have something to do with this? With Cal?"
"Of course not," Dean told her. "We just got a few questions – i's and t's, mostly."
"I- could we do it later?"
"I'm afraid not," Sam stared at her, unmoved.
"My kid has the flu, and he was up all night, so-"
"Well, is there a neighbor or a friend who can watch him while you're gone?" Sam insisted.
"I'm sorry, did you say your son was up all night?" I asked.
Amanda looked up at me in question. "Yeah."
"Were you with him all night?"
"Well, I had about a half hour of sleep, maybe."
"Can I talk to him?"
"Why?" Amanda asked in confusion.
"Yeah, what difference does that make, Agent Neff?" Sam asked condescendingly.
I shot a glare at him, turning back to Amanda with sympathetic eyes. "Please. Just for a minute."
"Okay," Amanda nodded, standing to her feet. She led the three of us out of the kitchen and into the living room where Aiden was lying on the couch with a plethora of blankets and stuffed animals surrounding him, a box of tissues within his reach on the side table. Amanda looked over to her son. "Aiden, honey, this is Agent Neff. She just wants to talk to you for a minute, okay?"
The boy looked up at me in confusion. I smiled warmly. "Only if you don't mind."
He sniffed. "I guess not."
"It won't be long, I promise," I told him. Amanda headed back to the kitchen while Sam and Dean hung back in the doorway to hear what Aiden was saying. I moved a bit closer, glancing at the TV as I crouched in front of the young boy. I couldn't help but internally grimace at the irony of the situation, but kept my expression friendly. "Scooby's one of my favorites."
"Really?" He asked. I nodded. Aiden sniffed again, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. I reached over to the side table, pulling a tissue out of the box to hand to him. He took it from me with a sheepish smile.
"Being sick really stinks, huh?" I asked. Aiden mumbled a yeah. I continued. "Were you up a lot last night?
Aiden nodded. "I can't sleep with a stuffy nose."
"Me neither. But I'm sure your Mom took good care of you."
"We camped out here, Mommy even let Lucky lay on the couch with us!" He exclaimed excitedly.
"I bet that was a lot of fun," I smiled, getting my answer. This kid didn't know the magnitude of the situation. There was no reason for him to lie. I didn't need to bother him with this stuff any longer. "Well, Aiden, I think it's time I head out. You were a big help, okay?"
Aiden picked up his juice box, taking a few long sips before nodding, waving to me as I exited the room, entering the hallway where Sam and Dean were standing.
"Her story checks out," Dean said hopefully. He didn't want to do this either, and just like me, he was hoping for any out we could get. Thankfully, I think we had one.
"You're not serious," Sam complained, rolling his eyes.
"Come on, let's go." I nodded towards the front door. Sam no-so-subtly shook his head as he pushed past me towards the front door. Thankfully he didn't argue.
Peering into the kitchen, Dean told Amanda that we'd be in touch and we let ourselves out of the house, walking down the pavement to the Impala.
"Remind me again why we're leaving without her?" Sam asked.
"It wasn't her, that's why," I said.
"You don't know that."
"She's got an alibi."
Sam shrugged. "She's lying."
"You heard the kid, dude," Dean interjected, trying to get Sam to see the situation for what it was. "She's not lying.""
"Fine. She stayed up with her sick kid for a little while. But she still had time to wolf out. The last werewolf was in bed with me, and she wolfed out."
"You can't let your personal life affect the job, Sam," I quoted his own words back to him sarcastically. He looked away, rolling his eyes. "Look, if you had your soul, your call would be to wait it out and see."
"You said you'd listen to us," Dean pressed. Sam nodded his head with a sigh. "Between this and the daylight attacks, something's not adding up. You have to know that. I'm not just gonna hand her, or that kid, over to Crowley until we figure out what. You understand?"
"Okay, okay. I understand," Sam said. "How about 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," Dean shook his head. "How about you go and we'll stay here?"
Sam scoffed. "I'm just gonna watch her."
"Well, if that's all you're doing, then how about some company?" I asked, my hands on my hips.
"Tori, no-" Dean started.
"Even after all this, you still don't trust me." Sam interrupted.
I folded my arms, looking over to him. "Sam, it- it's been like two days. Ever since you've been back, there hasn't been much to trust. I'm trying. But it's not that easy."
"It can be. Just trust that I remember how to do my job."
"Then you'll remember how well we work together. I'm staying with you," I stated.
There was no way either one of them was going to sway me. I couldn't take the chance of leaving him here alone.
Was I trying to trust him? Sure. Did I? Hell no.
By the time night had fallen, Dean had texted me I don't even know how many times, constantly asking if everything was okay. It'd gotten to the point where I wasn't even bothering to write any more than a one word reply to him now.
I tucked my phone in my back pocket, leaning against the slide that was part of the playground across the street from Amanda's house. Not much happened since Dean had left for the garage. And he didn't find anything there either. So he went back to the motel to try and dig up any information he could online while Sam and I stayed over here.
Sam let out a heavy sigh, pulling himself up onto one of the platforms to sit down. We hadn't spoken to each other much, which I didn't mind. I much rather prefer to stay on guard around him these days.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lucky jump onto the couch in the living room. I smiled at him as he panted, his little ears sticking up. Suddenly, Lucky disappeared from view, jumping down off the furniture. I could've sworn I was seeing things when a nude man popped up in front of the window where the dog had been seconds before. We'd been watching all night, no one went into that house.
"Uh," I mumbled, looking over to see Sam staring through a pair of binoculars. "Did he-"
"Yup," Sam nodded
"Give me those," I said, snatching the binoculars away from Sam, looking into them to see a much clearer picture of the man slipping one some clothes. "So he's-"
"Uh-huh," Sam grabbed his gun out, cocking it.
As we moved away from the park, Lucky exited the house, quietly shutting the door behind him. Sam and I kept a good distance away from him as he crossed the street, moving through the park. He stopped at the slide, sniffing the air for a moment before continuing his journey over to a fence, jumping it with ease. On the other side, he met up with a man, who, judging by his violent gestures, was upset.
While they spoke, Sam and I ducked behind one of the nearby houses, watching closely, guns still drawn. The man that Lucky was speaking to turned away and left, leaving Lucky alone in the small field. Sam trained his gun on him, ready to shoot when Lucky spun around, sniffing the air. He looked right in our direction and we hurriedly moved back against the wall, making sure to stay perfectly still.
Suddenly, Lucky took off running, so Sam and I did the same, following him closely along the trail that went through the small forest behind the homes. When he realized we were catching up to him, he began ripping his clothes off as he turned back into the german shepherd, gaining speed, easily outrunning us.
Just as we were about to reach the other side of the treeline, I heard tires squealing followed by the sound of a dog yelping out in pain. Sam and I shared a knowing look, hurrying out to the road to see a van loading Lucky into his van. Before we could even get close enough to them to say anything, they were off.
On our way back to get the bags we'd dropped before the chase, I was about to call Bobby to confirm my hunch about what we were dealing with here when Sam stopped me, saying he knew what it was and how to kill it. I could tell by the look in his eyes this was a test to see how much I trusted him.
Needless to say, I pulled my phone out and called Bobby anyway. He agreed with me about Lucky being a skinwalker. After telling us how to deal with it, I called up Dean, ignoring the glare Sam was still shooting at me.
The phone barely rang once before he picked up. "Everything okay?"
"Aw, were you waiting by the phone for me to call?" I asked teasingly.
"...no," Dean replied sheepishly, quickly changing the subject. "You didn't answer me."
"Oh, yeah. Everything's great,`` I mumbled sarcastically. "We got something, but it's definitely not a werewolf."
"Well, that's wonderful. Cause I got nothing over here," Dean sighed. "So, what is it?"
"A skinwalker."
"Wow. I haven't heard of one of those in years. I gotta say, I'm a little rusty on the profile."
"Yeah, me too. I just called Bobby. He told me everything he knows."
"Of course he did," Dean muttered, a smile in his voice.
"They can change anywhere, anytime. They infect you with a single bite. But other than that they're basically a werewolf's cousin. Silver will kill them. They eat hearts."
"What happened? Did you get him?"
"Not exactly. But I have an idea where he might be," I told him. "Come pick us up?"
"Be there in five."
Once Dean came and got Sam and I, the three of us headed over to the local emergency animal hospital. Inside, I frantically told the woman at the front desk that my dog was just hit by a car and I was here to see him. Telling her the dog's name and what he looked like, she led us into the back room where there were multiple dogs lying in crates.
She kept going on and on about how amazing it was that Lucky wasn't injured at all, but thankfully another person came inside, so she had to rush back to the front desk, telling us to just get the dog.
"Hi, boy," I smiled at Lucky. He glanced up, looking as nervous as a dog possibly could when his eyes met ours.
"Bad dog," Dean muttered, wagging his finger at him. He crouched down in front of the crate, pulling his gun out, showing him the magazine. "You see this? This is silver. Don't say I didn't warn you."
I pulled the collar and leash out of my back pocket, nudging Dean's shoulder after he stood upright next to me. "I hope you don't mind, on such short notice, I'm gonna have to use yours," I smirked.
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Is that really-"
"It's none of your business," Dean mumbled uncomfortably, giving Sam his answer. He chuckled, still smiling when Dean shot him a look over his shoulder.
Sam shrugged. "What? Soul or not, that's funny."
"You gonna be a good boy?" I asked Lucky as I stepped up to the cage. Dean moved his jacket aside, showing him that his gun was easily accessible. I opened the crate, getting the collar onto Lucky.
As we left the building, he kept looking over at Dean, who had his hand on the gun underneath his jacket. When we got into the Impala, Sam pulled his gun out, keeping it pointed at him the entire way to the motel, and even until we got into the room. I kept a hand on the leash while Sam and Dean set up a chair in the middle of the room, getting the ropes and silver chain out that we would use to tie him to it.
"Alright, de-hound yourself," Dean said, looking at the dog expectantly. Lucky made no move to do anything. Dean rolled his eyes, pulling the gun out, cocking it this time. "Are we gonna do this the hard way?"
The sound of bones cracking echoed through the room and in practically the blink of an eye, the same man Sam and I were chasing just hours before was standing there beside me, completely naked.
"Here, put these on," I said, handing him some clothes. Dean and I averted our eyes while he dressed, but Sam just stared blankly at him. '
Once he was finished, Sam and Dean pushed him down onto the chair, tying him down while I kept my gun on him, just for added insurance that he wouldn't budge. When he securely tied down, Dean and I sat at the foot of one of the beds while Sam took the chair directly across from Lucky.
"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?" Sam rapid fire questioned, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He leaned forward in the chair. "Roll over, Lucky. Speak."
"Go to hell," Lucky spat.
"Already been. Didn't agree with me. So, look…" Sam paused, getting up to pluck one of our knives off the desk. "...how about I take this silver knife, and start carving some dog until you behave?"
"You do what you got to do."
"Hang on, Sam," Dean called out, looking to Lucky. "Listen, you don't have to tell me why you're with the family. I get it."
Lucky scoffed. "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?" Dean questioned.
"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 shit is gonna come for them. Now, look, we don't give a rat's ass about you. We want to help them. That's our angle. That's it."
Lucky waited a moment, clearly thinking it over. He swallowed hard. "Yeah, that guy, he's a... whatever it is I am. And he's not the only one."
"How many are there?" I asked.
"About thirty. We were all- we were kind of recruited," Lucky replied.
"Recruited?" Sam asked, intrigued.
"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?"
"Everywhere," He replied. "We're out there finding families, and once they take us in, we lay low."
"Lay low? What does that mean?" I asked.
"Well, we're waiting for the word," He answered simply. I gestured for him to keep going. "Once we're settled, we get the signal... and we all turn on our families. We change them, all in one night. Thirty becomes a hundred and fifty."
"God, you're a sleeper cell," Dean mumbled.
"Yeah, well," Lucky laughed humorlessly. "That's one way to say it."
"So you're waiting for word from who?" Sam pressed. "Who organized you?"
"There's a pack leader," Lucky told him.
"Your alpha?"
"What's an Alpha?" He asked, looking genuinely confused.
"The- the first skinwalker, the strongest."
"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."
"Fantastic," Dean said, standing to his feet. "Then you can help us stop him."
Lucky's eyes went wide. "Oh, no. I can't. No."
"Yes, you can."
"No, you guys don't get it. No one can. These guys who turned me, they're ruthless."
Out of nowhere, Sam whistled. I looked up to see him holding a ball that he proceeded to throw across the room, watching Lucky expectantly. I shook my head. "Not helping, Sam."
"Fetch this, dick," Lucky snapped at him.
"Alright, listen to me," Dean said, crouching down 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?" He pressed. Lucky visibly flinched at his harsh words, as did I, but Dean continued. "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."
With Lucky's acceptance to help us take out his pack leader, we made our way over to their meet-up spot the next morning, stopping the Impala underneath a large bridge a few miles away.
"So, how are we supposed to get near something that can smell us a hundred yards off?" Sam asked, walking over to Dean and I as we unloaded some things out of the trunk and into a duffle bag.
"We don't," Dean said, opening a case with a sniper rifle in it.
"The pack leader, we're taking him down?"
"Got a better idea?" I asked, leaning against the back of the Impala.
"No, I-" Sam huffed. "Crowley's not gonna be too happy about that."
"Who gives a rat's ass? We let that thing live one second, and it sends out that psychic dog whistle and," Dean mimicked an explosion with his hands. "Phew!"
"On the other hand, it could lead us to an Alpha. Then Crowley would give me my soul back."
"Are you kidding? One-hundred and fifty people turned into monsters, that's what you want?"
"No. Of course not," Sam trailed off, his eyes clearly showing that he was lying. "I'm just asking."
Dean shook his head. "Alright, you know what? That's it."
Sam furrowed his brow. "What?"
"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 because you're not Sam."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean, come on."
"I mean, it's your gigantor body and- and maybe your brain, but it's not you. So just... stop pretending. Do us all a favor," Dean finished. Grabbing a shotgun, he walked away. I shut the trunk, picking up the duffle bag full of bullets I'd set on the ground before heading off with Dean, hearing Sam trail behind us.
Up on top of the roof of the building, I knelt in front of the rifle, peering through the sight at Lucky. He paced back and forth, looking over his shoulder constantly. Dean was next to me, also looking at him through a pair of binoculars while Sam sat behind us, sorting through the silver bullets that were in the bag by his feet.
"He looks nervous, right?" Sam mumbled out of nowhere.
"Wouldn't you be?" Dean questioned.
"I'd double-cross us. I mean, he's got to realize that's his best bet, if he wants to keep breathing."
"Nah, he'll go through with it."
"You mean because he loves that family?" Sam asked, like the concept of sacrificing yourself for people you love was so foreign to him when that's what got us into this whole Soulless Sam mess to begin with.
"Yeah," Dean answered his question.
Sam thought it over for a moment before shrugging. "I'd double-cross us."
"Thanks, Dexter. That's reassuring."
"Just making conversation."
"Can you two shut up already, it's go time," I looked at them, mumbling through gritted teeth as the roller door behind Lucky opened, three men stepping out. They nodded behind Lucky to a truck that drove up. Sam popped up on my other side with his own pair of binoculars, watching what was going on.
Adjusting my grip on the gun, I readied my finger on the trigger, looking back through the sights again as three more men exited the car. I recognized one of them as the man Lucky was talking to at the park the other night. One of the three was a rather short, bald man that the others seemed to be surrounding in a protective manner.
"And there's EL Jefe," Dean commented, looking at the same man I was. I moved the gun with him as he walked, but I couldn't get a good shot because of others in the way.
"Take him out," Sam said.
"It's not clean," I muttered, refocusing.
The pack leader stepped up in front of Lucky, shaking his head at him. One of his little minions went to the back of the truck, opening the door to escort Amanda, who was holding Aiden, out of the vehicle. She kept his head tucked into the crook of her neck, holding him tightly as she looked around at the strangers with scared eyes.
"Shit," Dean hissed.
"Take the shot," Sam insisted.
"I'm trying, she's in the way," I told him.
"Take it anyway!" Sam exclaimed quietly.
"What?" I moved away from the sights for a fraction of a second, looking over to Sam in disbelief, seeing out of the corner of my eye that Dean was doing the same.
I shared a quick glance of disbelief with Dean before looking back through the sights, readying myself again. I watched the pack leader put an arm around Lucky, leading him inside while the rest of the men brought Amanda in with them.
One of them hung back, rolling the door back down. And I lost my shot. I huffed, moving away from the rifle.
"So, plan b?" Sam asked, trying to not look irritated with my decision.
Dean furrowed his brow in question. "We've got one?"
Turns out all plan b involved was us infiltrating the building in an attempt to take down an entire pack of skinwalkers. Due to how vastly we were outnumbered, Dean and I might not have liked it, but it was the only chance we had to save Amanda and Aiden, so we took it.
Sam and Dean hung back on the base level, waiting for the right moment to go through with Sam's plan, while I, much to Dean's dismay, took the rifle to the small, hidden second level lined with a metal barricade that overlooked the main floor. I placed the barrel of the gun through one of the small squares, positioning myself so that I could see the entire room below where the skinwalkers were surrounding Amanda and Aiden, keeping Lucky away from them.
The big guy from the park stood beside Lucky, his voice gruff. "Turn them. Now. Both of them, while we watch, or I'll kill you all."
Amanda stiffened in terror as Lucky turned to face her, but before anything could happen, Sam and Dean burst through the partition in the wall, their guns drawn. Dean shot the skinwalker rushing towards them while Sam shot the pack leader right between the eyes. Amanda gasped, holding Aiden tighter to her as she rushed for cover.
In the midst of it all, the skinwalkers scattered, but I got the ones I had a clear shot at. Two broke off in different directions, forcing Sam and Dean to split up, chasing after each one separately. The fact that I couldn't see them anymore made me nervous, but I powered through, concentrating on the task at hand.
Out of nowhere, one of the skinwalkers that hid burst out from behind a large shelving unit, running towards Aiden and Amanda. I quickly shot him before he could even get close. Through the sights, I saw Lucky go over to Amanda. I readied myself to make another shot, pausing when I saw that he was trying to convince her go with him.
When she eventually agreed, Lucky led Amanda and Aiden to an office across the way, telling her to go inside and lock the door while he stood guard outside. I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of pride. He made the right decision.
From my right, I heard a low growl, turning to see a large wolf rounding the corner up to the second level. I went to pull the gun out, but found that it was stuck, wedged in the metal.
"Shit, shit, shit," I hissed, trying once more to pull it out. When it wouldn't budge, I huffed. "Fuck it."
Knowing I didn't have time to keep screwing with it, just as the wolf began to charge at me, I held onto the rifle with one hand, pulling my handgun out from my waistband with the other, shooting the wolf in the shoulder just as he was about to pounce. He fell to the ground with a thud, a pool of blood spreading out underneath him.
Before I could catch my breath, I heard a voice down below and looked back through the sights to see the big skinwalker closing in on Lucky.
"I gave you your life back!" He shouted. "Them? You're nothing to them. You're a dog," He sneered. Lucky punched him in the face, which did nothing but make him laugh. "I was gonna turn them. But now, I'm gonna kill them."
He punched Lucky, sending him flying back into the office door. Aiden and Amanda screamed as the glass shattered. Hearing this, Lucky got back up to his feet, glancing back at Amanda before he transformed into a dog again, barking and snarling at the skinwalker in front of him.
"Lucky?!" Amanda shouted, her eyes wide in horror.
"So you think this is gonna be a dogfight? I got a better idea," The man laughed, pulling out a gun, shooting Lucky, who let out a pained yelp and fell to the ground. "Silver bullet, Lucky."
The man held the gun back up, training it on Lucky. I quickly pulled the trigger, shooting him point blank in the temple. I pulled back from the gun, letting out a heavy breath. Lucky was wrong, sure. But he didn't deserve death.
Dean came running up the steps then, pausing when he saw the dead body in front of me. He looked up with wide eyes, rushing over to me. "What happened?"
"I took care of it," I said, taking his hand when he offered it to me. He helped me up off the ground, holding the tops of my arms, looking into my eyes like they would tell him something different. I smiled, holding onto his arms. "I'm okay, babe. Really."
"Okay."
"You can let go now," I said with a small smile. Dean glanced down to his hands that were still gripping my biceps and let them fall.
Dean pulled in a deep breath, glancing over to the naked man lying on the ground before looking back at me with a grimace. "God, I'll never look at a dog the same,"
I looked up at him, my tone suggesting I was joking even though the thought made me sad. "Not even German shepherd puppies?"
"Not even-" Dean paused, a smile spreading across his lips. "Axel."
"Yeah," I nodded sadly, wondering why Dean was so giddy about it. "I remember him."
"No, Axel. That's what we should name him," Dean said, a glint of enthusiasm in his eyes as they glanced at my stomach. I stared at him as his words sunk in. He looked back up at me, a little sheepish, but still excited. "What do you think?"
For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a smile of real, genuine happiness spread across my lips. "I love it."
Somehow, he was right. The time came, and we knew. I'd by lying if I said that didn't give me little more hope for the bigger things.
On our way out of Buffalo, we stopped for something to eat at a little food truck near a lake. After we got our food, we made our way to a picnic table near the water. As we walked, a woman went jogging past us on the trail that went through the park with her dog on a leash, running happily alongside her.
Dean watched the dog for a beat longer than necessary, his eyes wary. "Makes you wonder, huh?" He asked.
"What?" Sam asked as we sat down at one of the many picnic tables, Dean and I on one side, Sam on the other.
"How many packs are out there. What if they're all just waiting for the signal, you know?"
There was a small silence between us that I spent looking out at the water until Sam cleared his throat, drawing my attention back to him. " So, I was thinking. You were right."
I shared a confused look with Dean before turning back to Sam, an eyebrow raised in question. "About?"
"I'm not your brother," Sam paused. "Well, I'm not Sam. All that blah, blah, blah about being the old me? Bullshit. Like Bobby, right?" Sam glanced over to me. "Your whole lecture about how we need to be there for him more. I've been acting like I care about him. But I don't. I couldn't care less. I don't even really care about either of you. Except that...I need your help. "
As he said the words, my heart broke. Any happiness I'd felt from mine and Dean's conversation earlier went flying straight out of the window. Even though I'd known deep down that this was the truth, it was hard to hear him say.
"Is this supposed to make us feel better?" I asked, my voice coming out harsh as I attempted to mask my emotions.
"You wanted the real me. This is it. You're clearly not gonna stick around for much longer unless I give it to you straight, so…" Sam pulled in a breath, letting it out fast. He looked at us, his eyes completely dead. "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."
Dean's jaw clenched as he stared down at the picnic table. "Sam, get to the punch line."
"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. 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," Dean mumbled. "It's a step."
"So?" Sam asked, looking between the two of us.
I didn't know what to say. I didn't know if I could even speak through the lump in my throat. I looked over to Dean, who was already looking at me. I could see the fear in his eyes, the worry. I'm sure mine held the same. But what else could we do? The thought of spending the rest of our lives around Sam the way he was now was too much. So, no matter what, we had to fight to get the real Sam back. Dean and I silently agreed on it. There was no other option.
Dean swallowed hard, looking back to his brother. "We do what we got to do. And we get my brother back."
Who's ready for the show coming back next week? Gen and Danneel in the same episode of spn...MY HEART