Chapter 4

November 2002

Sam POV

"Dude quit your bitching," Dean says as we drive into the small town, "Dad's sure there's a pack of werewolves in this town. We haven't seen those in years."

"Yeah, so we'll be here for a couple of weeks, and then leave again." I sigh, "Off to another town, another new school. It's exhausting. Unlike some people, I like going to school."

"Aw," he frowns dramatically, sticking out his bottom lip, "what's the matter, Sammy? Can't make any new friends?"

"Fuck you," I say, rolling my eyes, "I just wanna stick around one place long enough so I can get my diploma." I half-lie, knowing he wouldn't like my real reasoning for wanting to stay in one place. "Every time we get settled, a new case drops into our laps, and we pack up and leave."

"Sam, if it's so important, just drop out and get your GED, like me," he quips.

"It's not the same, Dean."

"C'mon, you think you're gonna learn more in a high school than we do out on the road?"

"Like hand-to-hand combat, and how to melt silver into bullets? Or salt circles to keep spirits away? Yeah, important life skills." I scoff.

"As opposed to what, algebra?" he laughs. "Tell me, when was the last time that knowing the three branches of government helped us in a case? I can think of at least a dozen times when knowing those 'life skills' saved your ass, and will probably keep saving your ass when I'm not there to bail you out."

"Who said I want to keep doing this?" Dean shoots me a look. It's partly anger, but I can tell it hurts him too.

"So, saving people, hunting things… that's not good enough for you. You're too good for the family business?"

"That's not what I mean, and you know it. I just want to be able to do more, okay? Can we drop it?" We sit in silence as Dean pulls into a motel on the edge of the town.

I re-read the newspaper articles again as Dean goes inside to get us a room. Four victims in three months, all attended the university about thirty minutes away. Two of the girls were local, and besides the university, there is seemingly no overlap between the victims.

"Get this," I say as Dean returns with a set of keys to our room. "The last victim wasn't killed during the full moon."

"So?" He says as he unlocks the door to our room.

"So," I look around as we enter the motel room, our temporary home. There's nothing special about it; it looks nearly identical to the hundreds of other motels we've stayed in before; 2 beds, a TV, and a kitchenette. "Werewolves can only transform under a full moon. This last victim, it doesn't make any sense."

"Maybe the last victim was killed by something else," Dean states, tossing his duffle onto the floor by the table and plopping down on the bed. "Or maybe it's been recently turned; we've heard stories about how they can't really control when they change. Either way, we have a week before the next full moon."

"Or maybe dad's wrong, and it's not a werewolf. He can be wrong sometimes, y' know?"

"So what?" He sits up slightly on the bed. "You think this town has a werewolf and a murderer problem?"

"I don't know. I think the last death is worth looking into."

"We will. Tomorrow. Dad wants us to interview some of the locals, see if they've seen anything weird, besides maybe Jesus in a block of cheese." Dean laughs at his lame attempt at a joke. "I mean, dude, we've been to some small towns, but this is a small town." He shudders and leans back against the headboard. "Can you imagine living here?"

"I mean-"

"I'm gonna turn in." He yawns, "You should do the same."

Dean's asleep within minutes, he'd been driving for almost two days straight, our last case taking us to New York. Sighing, I sit on the end of the other bed, dropping my duffle near my feet. Dean grunts and rolls onto his side, facing away from me. I hesitantly pull out a college brochure from the corner compartment of my bag that the counselor at my last school gave to me, Stanford. Dean is snoring now, so I know I have some privacy for a while and quietly flip through the pages, reading about their programs and admission requirements. I move up the bed and tuck the brochure under the pillow. Leaning back against the headboard, I think about what I need to do to get in and don't realize I've fallen asleep until Dean wakes me the next morning.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!" he yells, making no effort to be quiet, dick.

"Fuck off, Dean," I mumble.

"C'mon, dad called, said he had to take a detour to Minnesota."

"Pastor Jim?"

"I guess. He said it might be a week before he gets here. Said to work the case, look for a connection between all the victims. I'm gonna speak with the medical examiner." I watch as he fiddles with the collar of his only dress shirt. "And you Sammy boy get to do your favorite thing: research. Get dressed; we're leaving in fifteen."

Dean's waiting in the Impala before I finish getting dressed, "Ramblin' On" blaring from the car speakers as I step outside.

I didn't notice yesterday, but the motel itself is just outside the city limits, the sign we pass on the way back into town reading: Weldon, Texas, Population 3152. There's only one street running through it, Main Street. 'Of course,' I chuckle to myself when I read the street sign. 'What else would it be called?'

"How much do you wanna bet there's a store where they spell shop with the two p's and an e?" Dean laughs as he blasts Led Zeppelin, garnering annoyed looks from the people we pass by. "Twenty bucks?"

"Only if the next intersection has a dead president's name."

"Oh, you're on. My money's on Johnson; this is his home state."

Dean slows his driving as we inch towards the intersection. Fairfield.

"Damn it!"

We drive through the center of the town, passing a burger joint. I know Dean has already decided that's where we will have lunch. And dinner. And lunch again tomorrow. There's very little traffic, but it's the weekend and still early in the day. I note that most people walk or ride bikes instead of driving. I figure I can walk from the center of town back to the motel in less than twenty minutes.

Dean drops me at the local library. I go in under the guise of a college student writing a paper on the town's history. Not wanting to draw her suspicion, I ease into asking the librarian if she has heard anything about the recent killings. She says no, but her body language tells me that she's hiding something. She points to the staircase to the lower level and tells me to call her for any help. I make my way into a small room where I can view the microfiche of the local newspaper. I find that there hasn't been a suspicious death of any kind in the last five years. Now there's been three in the last three months. Dad's right, there's something in this town.

Dean and I meet at the burger place to compare notes. Dean tells me that when he viewed the body, he couldn't tell if her heart was missing, and there was no mention of missing organs in the coroner's report.

We spend the next few days checking out the town and surrounding area, waiting on dad to join us. My usual routine would be to register at the local high school as soon as we get settled at a motel. But this time, I decide to wait until after we figure out what's killing people and for dad to determine how long we will stay here. There isn't any point in going to a new school for a few days, especially with Thanksgiving break coming up, just for dad to find another case on the other side of the country after we've finished here.

We interview the roommates and friends of each of the victims and finally get our connection, Joe's Burgers. Each one had been there within two days of her death.

"It's gotta be where the wolves target them," Dean says as we walk towards the Impala. "It can't be a coincidence that they were all there."

"It's not like there's that many options around for food," I say as we get into the car, "you've eaten there almost every day since we got here."

"Yeah, but the first three victims were all there the night of their deaths."

"So, you think it's someone who works there?"

"The simplest explanation is usually the right one," he says. "We should find out which employees were working the nights the girls came in, and boom, we'll find our wolf."

The drive back to the motel is short, and when we pull in, dad's waiting for us in his truck. We tell him of the connection we've made, and he insists on going directly to the restaurant to interview the employees.

Joe's is a small restaurant, and every time we had been there, it was packed. It is late afternoon now, though, and we've arrived during the lull between the lunch and dinner rush, allowing us to interview the owner.

"Hey, Sammy, look," Dean says, as we walk past the large windows. He looks back at dad, who is on the phone a few feet away. "Ten bucks says I can get her number." He points to a girl standing behind the counter.

"Dude, have you not already hit on every girl that works here?"

"Nah, I haven't seen this one," he grins, "fresh meat."

I glance at her again, "She's jailbait."

"Twenty bucks!" He grins. "Come on, Sammy, you know you want it too."

I roll my eyes at him. "No cheating, can't tell her you need it for something else. She has to give you her number, not Agent Ford."

"Watch and learn, Sammy." He smirks as we walk into the building.

The girl has her back to us as we walk up to the counter, and Dean clears his throat to get her attention. She turns, pink tinges her cheeks, and she chews at her bottom lip while staring at us.

I try to suppress my laughter as Dean uses one of the worst pickup lines on the waitress. She stares at him, mouth agape, as he tries another, this time bringing me into it. Her face turns crimson at the comment.

Dad steps up behind us and smacks Dean upside his head when he hears what's going on. "Dean, knock it off, we're here to work." At the same time, the waitress seems to find her voice and retorts with a silly comeback.

Ever persistent, Dean tries one more time, not wanting to lose the bet. "Just blink if you want me."

She intentionally doesn't blink while staring him down. Dad huffs, and I know that he wants the bullshit that's happening in front of him to end, so he asks the waitress how old she is.

"Sixteen," she answers, turning away from Dean and moves closer to the register, and I silently celebrate, knowing that Dean will back off. Dad apologizes to the girl, calling us "walking hormones."

"I didn't even do anything!" I scoff, I didn't make Dean hit on her.

"Cut the crap, Sam. I heard you when we walked in," he says, grabbing both Dean and me by our shirt and forcing us to stand in front of her, "Now apologize to… Eliza"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I didn't mean to offend you," Dean offers. Eliza is not buying his half-assed apology, hitting back with "frat boys."

"What the fu—"

"Yeah, frat boy, don't mess with the townie," I mock, he's furious. I laugh so hard my stomach hurts; even dad gets a chuckle out of it. Intentional or not, she couldn't have picked a better insult.

"Listen, Eliza, we ain't no frat guys… in fact, we're here because-"

"Alright, Dean, that's enough. How about we start over, yeah? I'm John, you already know Dean, and this is Sam," he gestures towards me. "We're investigating the local animal killings and wanted to know if you've seen or heard anything weird or suspicious." Dad pulls out his Fish and Wildlife badge, showing it to Eliza.

She explains that the owner Joe knows a lot about the inner workings of the town and then goes to grab him so that we can talk with him.

"Dude, sixteen, I told you! Give me my money, Jerk."

"Bitch," he says, handing over a twenty-dollar bill.

"She was obviously not eighteen, stick to girls your own age," dad chastises, and I snicker at Dean. "Sammy, that goes for you too," Dean then laughs at me.

Another waitress comes to the register and takes our order; she happily flirts back when Dean drops another terrible pickup line. She tells us to seat ourselves, and I gag when Dean mentions a very specific place he'd like her to sit. I watch discreetly as Ellie makes her way back to the counter, eyes trying to avoid us.

"Someone's got a crush," Dean says, looking between me and Ellie, as we sit down at a table.

"Shut up. I do not have a crush."

"Oh, but she does. Brother, I bet it'd be totally worth it," Dean comments, "for you, I mean."

"Dean, drop it," dad says, "we're here to work the case, not for you two to get laid."

"'Sides, did you forget the part where she's sixteen?" I say louder than I intended.

"I'll be seventeen in a month," she appears, dropping off our food.

"Huh?"

"Well, for some reason the two of you are overly concerned with my age, I'll be seventeen in a month."

"Still illegal, Dean." I shoot him my best shit-eating grin.

"Yeah, but right up your alley, Sammy," Dean winks at me.

"Boys, stop treating the girl like she's a piece of meat," dad doesn't even look up.

"Well, here in the Great State of Texas, the age of consent is seventeen; it's not technically illegal." She flashes a wink at Dean.

"Oh, Ellie, you're killing me here." Dean moaned, "I'm gonna have to pass, but Sammy here? He could help you out."

I've never felt my blood rush to my face so quickly; she laughs and walks away.

"Dude. What the fuck? Why would you say that?" I say, throwing some of my fries at him.

"What? It's true. Yeah, right now, it's borderline illegal, but after she turns 17-" he wiggles his eyebrows.

"Yeah, like we're even gonna still be here then."

We wait for a few minutes for the owner, and I notice Ellie pointing us out to him.

"Ellie said you wanted to speak with me about the recent attacks," he says, extending his hand for dad to shake. "Joe Harrison." He sits in one of the empty chairs.

"John Campbell," Dad replies, producing his badge again. "She said you're the man to speak to about anything strange. Says you know everything about everything."

"I don't know if I would say that," Joe laughs dryly. "But I'll help in any way I can."

"Have you noticed any animals that wouldn't normally be in this area? Or anyone complaining about animals or people acting odd?"

"Not really. Well, Frank- the butcher across the street, he's a little odd, but he's mostly harmless."

"The butcher," Dad repeats, looking at Dean and me. I know he is now a suspect. "Anyone else? Or anything that you've seen over the last few months?"

Joe pauses for a moment; we've been doing this long enough to know that he's hiding something.

"Can you tell me who was working the nights of the attacks?" Dad asks as Dean produces a piece of paper with dates written on it, handing it over to Joe. "We'd like to speak with them as well."

"I couldn't say for sure without looking at the schedule," Joe says as he studies the paper. "Dan and I are here almost every day, and most of the serving staff are local kids."

"Dan is?"

"The cook." Dad shoots me and Dean another look; Joe catches on this time. "You don't think it was an animal, do you?" He asks. "This is a small town, Mr. Campbell, and sometimes the high school students go a little stir crazy, but they're good kids. Almost every family who lives here goes back at least two or three generations. I'm not saying we don't have our share of bad eggs, but it's mostly good people."

Dad takes out a silver fork and places it in front of Joe, watching for some kind of reaction. He doesn't even flinch but gives dad an odd look. The restaurant starts to pick up again, distracting Joe from the fork. Dad gives him a 'business card' and insists that Joe call if he thinks of anything else that might help.

We stay at the restaurant for another hour, watching patrons and the staff for anyone acting weird. It's starting to get dark when we leave the restaurant. I looked over to Dean, who wiggles his eyebrows at me again, "you should go talk to her, man."

"Leave it alone, Dean," I grumble.

"There are a couple of people I want to interview," dad interrupts us. "Dean, you and I are then gonna check out the area where the bodies were found, see if we can find the pack. Sam, you stay here, watch the butcher, Joe and the cook, and call us if anything happens. Don't do anything stupid. You wait for your brother and me, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir. Observe, don't do anything stupid." I repeat back to him.

For hours, that's what I do. The butcher shop closes first, and I go scope out the building. As the night goes on, the other businesses close, and I watch as the employees from Joe's leave and start walking home.

That's when I see it. It doesn't look like any wolf we had ever hunted before. It looks like a man, maybe it's some kind of crossbreed monster. I watch as it follows the two girls, and I know I need to follow it too. I grab my phone and quickly call Dean.

"What?" he answers harshly.

"I see it," I whisper. "I think it's gonna attack."

"Sammy, wait," his voice calms. "Where are you?"

"I'm…" I look around for a street sign. "It's going west on Franklin."

"West on Franklin," he repeats.

"Sam," dad's voice replaces Dean's. "Do not engage. Do you understand me? We'll be there in less than 10 minutes. Do not try to take it down, you hear me?"

"Dad, it's following—"

"That's an order son, you wait for Dean and me," he abruptly ends the call.

Damn it, I can't not do anything, And I can't wait for them to show up. This thing, it's stalking those girls. I decide that I need to make sure that it doesn't attack, and if it tries to, maybe I can stop it.

The two girls part ways; one walks a little further up the street and to her own home, the other keeps walking.

This thing is getting bold, even from far away I can hear it growling in the bushes. Suddenly it jumps out, and the girl freezes in her tracks. Shit. I pull my gun out, grateful that Dean and dad insisted that I load it with silver bullets. I run to quickly close the gap so that I have a better chance of getting it through the heart. This thing is going to kill her, or at least, it's going to try to turn her. I can't let that happen.

I see it lift its arm, and as it comes down, I fire my gun. She falls backward, and from where I'm standing, I can't tell if it injured her or if it just scared the crap out of her.

It goes down, and I see who it was stalking, the girl from Joe's, Ellie. I try to speak to her, but she doesn't respond. I put my gun away and show her my hands. Her eyes meet mine, and I have to remind myself to remain calm. The last thing she needs is another person panicking. I've got to get her talking.

"Hey, do you remember me? We met at Joe's earlier?"

She nods slowly. "Sam."

"Right. Eliza, right?"

I can barely get any words out of her; she's nearly catatonic. I do my best to comfort her and assure her she is safe, silently counting the minutes until Dean and dad get to us. I look her over, noticing the gash on her arm, and I realize we are still very close to the thing that attacked her.

I pick her up and move her away; she begins to berate herself for not reacting to the creature. I remember dad giving Dean and me a similar speech when we worked our first case alone. 'It's not just fight or flight,' dad's voice echoes in my head, 'sometimes, they freeze.'

I mimic his wording, relieved that she's speaking.

"What was that thing?" I've never given a victim "the talk" before, dad, or Dean taking the lead on it. I open my mouth to speak, but I hear a low roaring. The noise scares her, making her jump. I stand up, adrenaline already pumping, ready to draw my gun if another wolf attacks. It only takes a second for me to realize that I'm hearing the Impala, and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Sammy!" Dad calls, stepping out of the Impala, "Son, what the hell happened?"

Dean takes off, exiting the car and checks out the area.

"You were supposed to be three blocks over, tracking the—"

"It's over there," I say, looking at the dead wolf.

"God Dammit Sam! I told you to watch and report only." I know this is the start of a lecture. We get the same one whenever we disobey orders. "This was not something for you to do on your own, you wait for your brother or me! You know that!"

"Dad… he got it; it's dead." Dean says, approaching us. "Man, you got some real balls on you, taking down a—"

They both step closer and see Ellie, cowering on the ground behind me, crying.

"What happened here, Sam?" Dad's tone changes.

"It was following Ellie and her friend," I explain, "and when they split up, it tried to attack Ellie. I had to act, dad. It would have killed her." Adrenaline is still coursing through me, and my breathing is ragged. It isn't my first solo kill, but it is my first solo save. "It tried to bite her. I couldn't let that happen."

"Okay, easy son," dad says, putting his hand on my shoulder, gesturing with the other to breathe deeply in and out. "You did good." He takes a few steps towards Ellie, and she begins to shake. "It's okay darlin', I won't come any closer," he soothes her. "Do you know what happened?" She shakes her head, "That's okay, you're safe now. We're not gonna let anything happen to you, Y/ N."

Dean voices his concern that it may have bitten her. I didn't see that it did, but the thing wanted to. I tell them of the gash that I know is on her arm, and dad instructs us to take her to a doctor while he takes care of the body. She seems to relax a little when I approach her, letting me help her up and walk her to the Impala. She gasps at the sight of it, causing Dean to beam with pride.

"She's a beauty, huh?" Dean opens the back door to allow her in. I see him make a face when he notices her arm, "Dude, make sure that she's not bleeding, I just cleaned Baby out."

"Nice, Dean, really sensitive," I say as she slides into the back seat, wanting to tell him to fuck off.

"Come on, man!" he tries to laugh it off, "You know I'm not serious!"

"Dean!" Dad's voice cuts into Dean's laughter, "Cut the shit and get this girl some help!"

I climb into the back seat, and Ella leans against me, telling us that the nearest hospital is in the next town over. Dean comments again about the possibility of her being bitten and what could happen if she was, and her face goes pale. She asks again about what attacked her. Dean makes eye contact with me through the rearview mirror.

"Tell her, man." She looks between us. "The talk."

I quickly run it through my head, hearing dad and Dean give it multiple times. She hardly makes a noise as I explain that most things, ghosts, monsters, things she couldn't even think of, are real, and we hunt them down. She takes a deep breath, and it seems something else dawns on her.

"My parents—it's so late, they're gonna be so worried… what am I gonna tell them?" she starts crying again.

"Don't worry about that, Ella," I tell her calmly. "I'll call them for you, okay? I'll explain what happened. Do you have a cell phone?" She shakes her head, and I pull a piece of scrap paper out, as Dean rummages through the glove compartment for a pen, tossing it over the front seat. I can see a moment of panic set in. "I won't tell them the truth. It was an animal attack." I'm not familiar enough with this area to know what kind of animals live here, but I remember she mentioned coyotes when we spoke earlier. "Coyote, maybe?"

"Coyote attack," she confirms.

We pull up to the clinic, and Dean goes in ahead of us. I help Ella out of the car and into the building. The nurse immediately recognizes Ella and begins asking questions. I tell her our story and introduce myself. Sam Campbell, dad had insisted we never use our real last name when working a case. We broke too many laws and didn't need someone figuring out who we really are. 'Use Campbell, never Winchester.'

Ella insists that I come with her when the nurse tries to direct her to an exam room. I don't know how to say 'no' to her. She's terrified, traumatized, and I'm the only person she seems to trust right now.

At the same time, the doctor examines Ella's arm, she pokes and prods the story we tell her, looking for holes, but I don't falter. The doctor eases up on the questions once Ella starts to speak and confirm my answers. Relief washes through me as she responds to the doctor's questions.

"I'm gonna ask Sam to leave for a few minutes to give you a more thorough exam, is that okay?" Ella goes a little wide-eyed but agrees, and the doctor tells me to go back into the waiting room.

"I'll be right out there, okay, Ella?" I want to assure her that I'm not leaving her, "I'm not going anywhere."

I walk back to the waiting room, where Dean is staring off into nowhere. I offer a tight-lipped smile and sit across from him.

"How is she?"

"She'll be okay," I sigh, running my fingers through my hair. "You hear from dad?"

"Yeah, he's gonna meet us here a little bit," Dean seems to notice that I'm still on edge, and offers some encouragement. "You did good, Sammy." He pats my shoulder, "you saved her."

"She just, she froze. I mean, I know that's how some people react, but she just stood there as that thing came at her. I had to shoot it. I was too far away to do anything else," I rant.

"Sammy," he gets up from his seat and moves to the empty one next to me. "You did everything right. You know that sometimes we can't get the monsters until the attack, as much as we try to gank them beforehand, we have to wait," he says, trying to reassure me. "You said it yourself; she's gonna be okay. You got there just in time; you saved her."

"They're suspicious," I look around to make sure no one is close by, lowering my voice. "The doctor and nurse, they're not buying the coyote story."

He's silent for a moment. "Do you think she's telling them something else?"

"I don't know, man. Ella barely spoke while I was in there with her. I mean, if you just saw the aftermath, what would you think?"

We both know how it looks.

I ask the receptionist for a piece of paper and write one of our many numbers down, planning on giving it to Ellie. Dean grins knowingly at me when he notices what I'm doing.

After 20 minutes or so, I get called back into Ella's room. She pulls me into a tight hug. We listen as the nurse gives aftercare instructions then walk back to the waiting room so Dean and I can take her home.

"How you doin' Ellie?" Dean asks. Ella smiles and assures us that she is doing fine.

"You're a tough girl; you'll be alright." My arm is still around her, and I look down to see she has nuzzled into my side.

"You ready to go home?" Dean asks, and she nods.

As we reach the doors, an older couple comes charging in. I quickly gather that they are Ella's parents. Ella remains silent as they ask their questions, and I can't stop my arm from going around her in support. Her father doesn't like that. I try to introduce myself and hold my free hand out to shake his, but he just stares back at me.

"Well, Sam Campbell, who the hell are you and why do you have your hands on my 16-year-old daughter?" I see Dean getting defensive and go into big brother mode, ready to take this man down. I feel Ella's body tense and squeeze her shoulder. Luckily dad walks in and quickly diffuses the situation.

"Dean, you know better," he warns. "Forgive my son; I raised him better than that. I'm John Campbell. My sons and I helped Ellie after the attack. I'm sorry we weren't able to catch the animal sooner."

Her parents introduce themselves and sincerely thank us this time. I pull Ella in for one final hug and then let her go.

"You're gonna be okay, kid," I say, pulling the paper out. "If you need anything, or wanna talk, vent, whatever, call me, okay?"

Her father reaches out and pulls her to him. "Let's go home, Lizzy." Her mother quickly appears on her other side, and they begin to walk her out. She turns her head back to me, mouthing 'thank you.' I smile and wave goodbye. As soon as they are out the door, dad's mood changes. He has us wait a few minutes before we leave the clinic.

"Dean, what the hell is wrong with you?" his voice booms as we reach the parking lot. "Those parents are out of their mind with worry, and you're trying to start a fight?"

"You didn't hear the way he was talking to Sam," Dean defends. "The way he was looking at us like we were the bad guys! Sam saved that girl!"

"Dean," dad calms slightly. "You know that's not how to speak with a victim's family, regardless of how they're acting."

"Yes, sir," Dean mumbles.

"Sammy?" Dad turns to me. "How's the girl? Any permanent damage?"

"No. Stitches, that's it," I report.

"Good."

I sit silently in the back seat as we drive back to the motel. Dad's in the front seat as Dean goes on about how they took out two wolves. I can't focus on anything he says, Ella is the only thing on my mind.

"Sammy?" Dean pulls me out of my thoughts, and I realize we're back at the motel. "Did you hear me?"

"Huh?" Dad's already making his way inside the room. "What?"

"I said, we're gonna be sticking around. A few more weeks, at least."

"That's great," I say, not really paying attention. I touch my arm, and I can still feel Ella clutching onto me.

"Dude, you've got it bad." He says, laughing.

"Wh—what are you talking about?" I question. I know exactly what he's talking about.

"Ellie—Ella," he taunts, as we walk into our room. Dad's already in the bathroom; I can hear the shower running. "You like her."

"No, shut up, I don't like her. Not like that. I saved her; that's it."

"So I imagined your arm around her?" he smirks, slumping down on his bed. He pulls out his gun and attentively starts cleaning it. "And how she didn't want you to leave her?"

"No," I'm thankful his attention is focused on his task and can not see how the blood rushes to my face. "You know that sometimes a victim will imprint on the person who rescues them. 'Sides, we met less than 12 hours ago, she just survived a freaking werewolf attack, I was comforting her. Trying to make her feel safe."

"Okay, Sammy, keep telling yourself that," he laughs, "you were comforting her."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."