I've got to speed up my posting schedule because this was meant to be a hiatus story, so I've got to finish up real quick. Only one week left to wait!

Chapter 5.

On the bottom step up into the cabin Sam stands rooted to the spot. The door is open giving him a fine view of his brother with the light of the fire playing over his sweaty face. Beside him, silhouetted against the fire in a sharp black, profile is the biggest wolf Sam has ever seen. Sitting back on its haunches, shoulders set back high and proud, head and snout bent towards Dean's prone figure. It's tail lies on the floor curled around its bent hind legs, from here Sam can hear the soft, low growl rumbling in the beast's chest, his heart freezes.

The wolf is magnificent in size. It's dark, black fur lying glossy and clean close to its lean, muscled flesh. It's ears standing from its head in a curious, amiable manner. It doesn't look at all like its about to attack. But Sam is a hunter. The wolf is sitting next to his wounded brother, and it is between them. Dean isn't much of a threat, but Sam is so afraid of what it might do when he makes his presence known.

The way in which the wolf nuzzles down Dean's body to his wounded leg is strangely gentle and intelligently inquisitive. Sam thinks with soul jolting fear that it looks for all the world like an examination. Would Dean make a good werewolf? What were his genes? Would he be a rabid half breed? Or would he be transformed into a complete wolf, gloriously carefree and howling to the moon?

Sam can see him now. Tall and strong and agile. Dark brown fur, tinted with a sparkling red. Bright, glowing, almond-shaped green eyes in a sharp featured face leading down into a delicate snout. Sharp teeth, long, fast legs with paws that would carry him over the earth with the greatest speed. His hunter's instincts only heightened, his sense of loyalty only strengthened...if a werewolf could ever be a good and beautiful person Sam's sure it would be his brother.

But this wolf before him, currently sniffing over his brother, is not good, has been hunting them. It is an alpha, the very way in which it fills up the room assures Sam he's right. He wants that thing away from his brother. Now. He squeezes his hands into fists and grinds his teeth together. Sometimes you just have to wait for the good stuff.

He has no weapon, everything is in the car...in the shut and locked trunk. And there's no way in hell he's leaving Dean alone with that thing, even to get a gun. The wolf is fricking TOUCHING Dean, and he's being forced to watch. He takes the moment to breathe. To drive everything else away from his mind to focus on the wolf, and only the wolf. Perhaps that's why he misses it, the usual tells that his brother is waking.

Twitching eyelids, a pink tongue wetting dry lips. Perhaps that's why the wolf hadn't yet seen Sam, maybe it was listening to and watching Dean with unbreakable attention too. It's glowing eyes stayed on the downed hunter's face, it's nose still nuzzling the white bandages, it's tongue making an appearance when it sniffs Dean's hand where it lays limp by his side. The wetness causes Dean to flinch, but Sam is watching the wolf with all his energy.

All he knows is the wolf is too close to his brother, shouldn't be touching him. NOT SAFE, is the only message his brain is sending. With heart beating wildly he opens his mouth to make himself known, raises a foot to step up into the room, mind racing desperately for an improvise.

And then Dean moves.

...

Cold drafts of air are bringing Dean up from his blissfully ignorant state. He fights as best he can to succumb to unconsciousness again, to go back to that peaceful, painless place and stay there. But not such luck for him, the sharp, burning pain in his leg is dragging him upwards through what feels like quick sand his head is so groggy. Speaking of which, why does it bang so bad, why is he so cold? Where is Sam?

He doesn't remember much, just that he was miserable and cold and hurting, and now he is miserable and cold and hurting, and he wants it to stop. And he wants Sam. Like really wants Sam. Is scared, can't remember why, but he is, and he wants his brother. He can't think of a good reason not to be a baby about this. His head feels as if it's been packed with cotton balls, and like all his thoughts have been insulated.

He's still majorly confused, can't really remember where he is, just knows Sam should be there. Dean just knows he should be ready and he's not and it makes him afraid. They are in danger, Sam is in danger. It's the left over feelings of fear and confusion that fills his mind with those same emotions even more potently.

The shivers wracking through him aren't helping with the feeling of vulnerability that is encompassing him. It's when his eyes lids open, feeling as though boulders are on top of them and his eyesight is blurry that he knows something is REALLY wrong. The room is taking its time bringing its self into focus, all Dean can really make out is the glow from the fire and a dark silhouette over him. Maybe Sam WAS there.

He shifts, and gasps at the pain, dry lips parting, tongue licking to moisten them. The thing above him moves, and then comes into focus, clearing to come into its own shape. A wolf. The wolf.

Dean remembers.

Where is Sam? He thinks wildly. Had the thing already got him? Was he dead, was sweet Sammy dead? Please God, no. That was the fear, that was the strong urge to get up and do something, to flee.

Dean jumps when something wet licks into his hand, his wide green eyes are met with two shining blue ones from the wolf's face. All is frozen for a moment. Dean's heart paralyzed with fear, no breath for more than a minute. The wolf just stares at him steadily, sizing him up seemingly. Dean is afraid, but fails to feel threatened. His instinct screams at him for action, his body is burning with pain. His head spinning and heart beat banging agains his brain.

He's entirely too confused and his senses overwhelmed for him to do anything. The wolf still wavers out of focus, sometimes when a violent shiver passes over him his eyes close on their own accord. He has no way of knowing these were waves of heat from his fever, fighting the infection in his leg.

The wolf nuzzles him in the face and Dean is officially done. He doesn't like the thing so close. He feels like he's crawling out of his own skin but can't even move fast enough to do so. With pain and chills wracking through him, Dean pulls himself up on his elbows, the wolf watching all the time. Gritting his teeth against the moan trying to escape, he rises into a sitting position and using his hands, drags himself off the sleeping bag and through the pain until he curls up in the corner between the wall and chimney.

The wolf watches him with glowing eyes and just follows him going at Dean's pace so that when Dean falls back against the wall panting and sweating drops, it is right there. Dean raising his eyes to it, as he wraps his shaking arms around his knees tugging them closer to his body and away from the huge wolf.

The wolf stands over him, tail swishing lazily in the air. Glowing eyes meeting his, head bent so they are nearly nose to nose.

Dean can't do anymore. He's shaking from the effort it took to move himself that far. He is bone tired, whatever has happened to him has zapped all his strength away, has nearly done him in. The wolf fades out of sight again, it's colder over here, he is so freaking cold, and tired and it hurts, God it hurts, really bad...he just wants Sam. This stupid wolf is just staring at him. Eat him, or leave and let Sam come back to him.

Without really thinking, eyes blinking lazily, unconsciousness wavering around him like a low rain cloud in summer, Dean lifts his shaking hand towards the giant wolf's snout. The creature really was beautiful, it looked soft, it hadn't hurt him yet. Floating on some fever cloud, he found no reason to reach out and touch the werewolf...

...

Sam freezes and watches with a thundering heart as Dean pushes up on his elbows and then drags himself across the room and into the little corner. Sam's never seen his big brother make himself so small, he's never seen him look so miserable and scared before either. Maybe it had something to do with the huge wolf ghosting and mirroring his movements, or maybe it was just that the hurt and confusion was coming off his brother in waves.

Sam clenches his hands into fists as he watches Dean curl up on himself and watch the wolf, which is right in his face, with wide, glassy eyes. The creature stands in front of his brother, still offering no threat, just an eery stare that really bothers Sam. Dean seems uncomfortable for a few moments and then seems to slowly be losing it again. His head falls to rest against the side of the chimney, his mouth falls open a little. The shaking is still there, the flush on his cheeks is visible even the dark room.

It's the brightness in Dean's fever blurry eyes that really scares Sam. He knows that look, that intelligent look that mirrors thoughts whizzing through his brother's head lightening fast. Delirious Dean thinking was never a good thing, delirious Dean DOING was even worse. He knows his brother is hurting, and running a high fever, cold enough for his teeth to be chattering, and confused. And afraid, God, Sam knows Dean's blurry mind has latched onto the fact that he's not there, knows it's tearing his big brother apart inside along with all his physical problems.

But he would never be prepared for Dean to lift his hand, palm facing out, reaching towards the wolf where it's head is bent so their noses are across from one another. His brother is about to FREAKING PET a werewolf. A huge one, an alpha. Sam steps up in a flash into the room. The wolf's head swings around to light his glowing eyes on him. Dean pauses, cocking his head confusedly and follows the wolf's line of sight. Sam freezes, just inside the door, hands spread out before him.

"Get away from him." He demands in a low voice.

The wolf's top lip lifts in a snarl and the growl rumbles deep in its chest. But it makes no movement away from Dean or to attack Sam. It seems to be waiting for the other shoe to drop, Sam takes a step forward, and it snarls at him again, tail wafting in the air, making sure Sam is directly in front of him with every movement, the wolf's large body sways and looks nervous.

"Get away from him, and I'll let you go." Sam says, taking another step forward. This earns him a high-pitched whine in the back of the wolf's throat, but the creature moves away from Dean.

Sam edges around the room staying as far away from the wolf as he can and goes to his knees beside his brother. Arm going around his shoulders, he pulls Dean's shivering form to him. Sam would have thought him unconscious again if it hadn't been for the way Dean's hands desperately fisted in his coat and tried to drag him closer. Sam pulls him tight against his chest, and Dean lets his face hide under the lapels of Sam's coat against his shirt's soft material.

Sam feels nearly suffocated under Dean's furnace of a body. The fever has only risen, and all this movement and excitement wasn't good for the wound or his brother's confused, banged up head. He can feel the shaking, the shivers. Knows the difference between a simple embrace and the vice like grip Dean has on him. The one that says 'I'm never letting you go', but more heartbreakingly, 'please, never let me go'.

The wolf is pacing the floor in front of the open door, about to give Sam a nervous breakdown. He raises fearful eyes to the huge beast's and wonders what it's waiting on. He had said he'd let it go if it moved. It had left Dean alone, but now it hadn't made its escape. It knew they had killed the other one, it knew they were hunters.

"Go on," he said, "I meant it, you kept your half of the deal, I'll keep mine...but not for long. Better shag ass out of here while I'm not looking."

The wolf gives him a sharp look and then stops dead in its tracks. Before Sam can get another word out, it's body contorts. Though it's mainly grotesque, Sam can't help but think that the grace with which the furry body transforms is beautiful. In the wolf's place, a woman sits on the floor with Raven black hair falling over her shoulders. The blue eyes she raises to meet Sam's are glowing and piercing, the blood red mouth just completes her look. She's is the very human embodiment of a werewolf.

She blinks at him in silence for a few moments. Sam reaches over to Dean's make shift bed and throws the old blanket over to her. Never taking her eyes off Sam she wraps it around herself, and holds it together over her breasts. There's a few more moments of silence in which Dean whimpers and Sam watches a tell tale red stain seep into the white bandage on his brother's leg. His hand goes up to cup the side of Dean's burning face and silently pleads with him to just hold on, just hold on, they'll be out of here in a few minutes. Dean just holds onto him tighter, seems to just be breathing in his presence, reassuring himself that Sam is in fact, there.

...

Dean's fingers had itched to feel the fur of the wolf, but when Sam's low tones had reached his ears, it knocked a certain level of sense back into his head. He cringed away from the wolf and wrapped his arms around himself. Feeling the shivers increase as the wolf's eyes, that had a strange calming effect on him, turn away from him and landed on something on the other side of the room.

Dean followed the wolf's gaze and there, thank you God, found Sam. His brother stood taking up the door frame. Lines of his face hard and cold, and set determinedly. He spoke again, Dean couldn't really understand what he was saying, but the sound of his low voice washed over Dean like salvation. Calmness took over him, now that Sam was there. Sam was okay and he would take care of everything. He'd come back for Dean.

The wolf seemed to object, snarls and growls rumbling in its chest and vibrating in Dean's head painfully. All he wanted was Sam, he wanted the wolf to move, he didn't really give a damn what hat happened to it, just as long as Sam stayed. He closes his eyes pressing himself farther back into the corner as pain rips through him with every breath. The heat under his skin is but a phantom because he's so freaking cold, he can barely catch breath through his shivering and chattering teeth.

His leg is screaming in pain, hurt, agony...but screaming for what he doesn't know. Nothing makes it better, nothing changes the fact that he would actually take a doctor up on an amputation right now. So he waits for the inevitable. Waits for the other shoe to drop. Prays Sam comes to him. That freaking wolf is in the way.

When the wolf growls again and begins to move. Dean screws his eyes shut even tighter and buries his face in his knees. He fully expects the wolf to charge Sam and rip his throat out. Instead a few moments later his brother's arms are around him pulling him close, protecting him, assuring him he's there, that he's alive. Dean doesn't open his eyes, won't break the spell, what ever beautiful fever dream this is.

His fingers tighten around Sam's coat and his face is guided to hide in the safety of his brother's chest. Maybe this is real after all. Feels like Sam, smells like Sam. He gasps relieved breaths against Sam's shirt and feels some of the tension around his chest dissipate. Sam keeps him close, but Dean can feel his brother's attention distracted from him.

The wolf. Right. Dean had nearly forgotten. He feels Sam's voice rumble in his chest and it soothes over his right ear where it lays against his beating organ. He feels another rumble vibrate through the room as the wolf obviously unappreciated what Sam says.

Better not piss off the giant werewolf, Sammy boy.

But then his brother has always been a little smart alec. A few moments of silence pass, Sam leans forward and grabs something, chucking it across the room. Dean whimpers, frowning at the movement which jars him painfully. Sam's hand comes to the side of his face, reassuring him, probably reassuring himself. Dean leans into it, anything that's different or a distraction from the pain he's feeling right now.

Then a new voice washes over him, the tones husky and a little deep, but definitely a woman's. He feels the difference as soon as he hears her. Her voice soothes over him, washing away so much of the agony he's experiencing right now. The heat and itching and sharp pain his leg fades a little as she speaks. He doesn't hear what she's saying, just that it leaves him panting in relief against Sam's chest.

...

There's a smile turning up the woman's red lips as she rises and spares a look to Dean before her gaze jumps back to Sam. She closes the door, shutting out the cold and snow and wind. She runs a hands through her mane of black hair, sweeping it from her face. Sam didn't think she was particularly pretty, more terribly beautiful than anything. She was the epitome of a strong woman.

"A smart hunter," her husky voice says to Sam lightly, "How refreshing."

Sam gives her a bitch face.

When Sam doesn't answer her she walks towards them and stands a few feet away looking down on the brothers, wrapped in the blanket. "You'll let me go, huh?" She asks, eyebrow lifted incredulously, or mockingly. Sam's not sure which.

"I said I would," Sam ground out.

"I've been around for an age...literally," the woman says not unkindly, "Hunters, humans...say a lot of things."

Sam supposes they had that coming, they weren't exactly a trusting or trustworthy race.

"When you're friend heals, you'll be back to finish the hunt; me."

Sam had to give her credit, she knew her stuff.

"Look," he said, "I'm sorry about your friend..."

She cuts him off with the first unkind, threatening sound yet. Her laugh is light and melodious, though somehow still rumbles in her small chest much like the wolf she'd been moments before.

"Don't trouble yourself, hunter." She says pleasantly, "He was no friend of mine."

Then Sam gets it. It all dawns on him. "Those kills were all his. You were hunting him too."

She winks at him, like 'hey look at you, right again!'

"Yes, we give refuge to half breeds, but only if they can control themselves."

"We?" Sam questions, thinking it was a stupid thing for the alpha wolf do to, to reveal there were more wolves around.

She nods, looking entirely unfazed, "My pack and I."

"Well, in that case, sorry we took you're kill," Sam states, dry with sarcasm.

"Hm," she stares at Dean's shivering shape still encased in Sam's arms. "Looks like it would have served you better to stay out of our business."

Sam couldn't have agreed more.

"Still," she says, "We're in quite the pickle now."

Sam agrees, though he's confused, he already offered her freedom. And their blind eye, at least until Dean was better.

"I told you, you can go." He says looking her straight in the eye.

"But I don't trust hunters." The wolf returns, "And though your the most impressive I've ever met it doesn't change anything. We both need a little more incentive to stay away from each other...and each other's own." Sam cringes at the way her piercing blue eyes land on Dean.

"What are you talking about?" he snaps.

Her voice takes on a harder, deeper tone. "You forget about me, about the half bred, about everything. Don't ever let me see your faces again...and I'll let you and your friend go."

"And if we don't take you up on that offer?"

She cocks an eyebrow, "You're friend there isn't really up to fighting condition, is he now? In fact, weird infection? High fever, delirium?"

Sam bristles, "How'd you know?"

"He will die if he's not changed," she states matter of factly.

Sam's breath dies, his heart is in his throat. "No, you're wrong." Is all he can manage weakly.

She chuckles drily, "The half breed was indeed rabid, your brother will never stand a chance against the infection. But maybe as a wolf..."

Sam hugs Dean closer to him, Dean would never want this, would never ask for that. Even if it meant he lived. But Sam can't lose his brother. Not again. He just got him back not too long ago. He knows he has two choices. He'll hate himself forever if he picks the one, and Dean will hate him forever if he picks the other.

He looks back up to the sapphire eyes of the wolf, his own wet and shining, but reflecting the strength of decision.

tbc...

PLEASE REVIEW! ;)

thank you