I don't own Supernatural. Darn. I do own Asher Michaels and this story, excluding the bits from the show. My friend Shauna owns Amelia Shaw, and I am using her in my story with her permission. This fic is rated for violence, blood, language, drinking, sexual situations and, hopefully, some scary shit. I don't know how good I will be at writing scary stuff since I've never actually tried before. Enjoy the stories.

Monster Hospital, Book Three: Werewolves.
Chapter Seven: Risky Business.

The farmhouse looked normal: unassuming and clean across the field, white nearly blinding in the sun. There was only one sign that anything supernatural and sinister was going on inside the house, and that was a barely visible streak of blood along one side of the house and a slightly metallic smell in the air. There was more blood on the grass and near the windows, if you knew where to look, but it wasn't as obvious. However, this was not enough to draw much attention beyond the three hunters creeping towards the house now; to others, it would just appear the owner had been hunting and had perhaps dismembered the animal corpse outside. That was true, in a sense. But a farmer had not been the hunter. A werewolf had.

Amelia looked at the blood and wrinkled her nose, tears bubbling in the corners of her eyes. She mumbled something to herself and continued around to the other side of the house where they had located a broken window large enough to crawl through. It appeared to lead into the kitchen, and they hadn't been able to spot anyone from that window. Sam and Dean were already standing beneath the window, waiting and quietly discussing a plan of attack. Storming a nest of werewolves was not something they'd done before and it was not something they wanted to screw up.

"I'll go through first," Dean whispered. Meeting with no opposition, he pulled off his jacket and put it over the miniscule shards of glass that remained in the window frame before hoisting himself into the dirty kitchen, doing his best to make absolutely no noise; werewolves would hear nearly anything with their heightened senses. He pulled his 9mm pistol out from the back of his belt and took a couple steps away from the window, setting up a barrier to allow the other two to get into the house safely. "Okay," he called quietly over his shoulder. Amelia came through next, wide-eyed and a little shaky. She looked like she was going to snap at any moment, at the smallest noise or the first sign of movement. "Are you going to be all right?" Dean asked as Sam climbed through the window.

She nodded, but couldn't get her eyes to return to normal. "Yeah, yeah... I'll be fine."

Dean just nodded and turned back towards the rest of the house.

The kitchen was filthy and the metallic smell of blood was much stronger. Reddish-brown stains littered the tile and the formerly white appliances and there were bits of stuff on the floor that none of the hunters were keen to identify. They looked like dried meat, but if they were anything other than human, Dean would eat his hat. Or he would if he had one. As they proceeded farther into the house, they were met with more rust-coloured stains and dried bits, but there was also a growing pressure that the hunters would later identify as the nest of supernatural power they were walking into, something they had developed a sensitivity for in their long years of hunting. People started becoming visible in the hallway leading to the living room and the hunters could almost see the power radiating from them in waves, like heat above the road on a hot summer day.

There was a couple in the hall, so entwined that it was difficult to tell which limb belonged to which person. Dean gestured and Sam approached, gun drawn. They knew that once they shot these two, the rest of the wolves would probably wake up and be on them; at the very list, the Alpha would wake up and be on them and that was almost worse than having the rest of the pack descend. From what Asher said, the Alpha was ridiculously strong and powerful; anyone that could control Asher scared Dean. Not that he'd ever admit it. The Winchester brothers looked at each other, nodded and then put the muzzles of their guns to the heads of the wolves. They twitched under the cold metal. There were silver bullets in the guns and the poison would spread through the body no matter where the bullet entered, but by shooting them in the head, they would incapacitate them while the silver did its thing. Sam and Dean took a simultaneous deep breath and pulled the triggers, gunshots echoing loudly in the hall and through the house.

A moment of silence following the noise resolved and the hunters could hear movement upstairs and ahead of them. As a unit, they walked backwards down the hall, guns out. They stopped in front of the door to the closed-off kitchen, allowing themselves a way out if they needed it.

The first werewolf to appear was a small woman, thin and frail-looking. She turned greenish eyes towards them, lips pulling back over her teeth as she growled. As she moved, her skin began to ripple along her spine. She made it halfway down the hall before she collapsed, her skin retreating under a wave of brown fur. Amelia shot her in the head as her bones began to crack and shift. Three more wolves crawled from the living room, three men who looked enough alike to be brothers, and they all paused to sniff the woman before they began to change as well. Gunshots rang out above the sound of breaking bones and they fell, nearly on top of the woman, creating a barrier of bodies that wouldn't act as much of deterrent. But it was better than nothing.

"I can hear a lot of movement upstairs," Sam said, voice quiet but still above a whisper. There really was no point in whispering. "Maybe we should go back outside."

Dean and Amelia both glanced towards the window. "Let's go before they mob us," Dean said. "We're going to get forced out anyways. You guys go first." Dean turned sideways, forcing Sam and Amelia deeper into the kitchen and aimed his gun down the hall, half hiding himself behind the doorjamb. He heard the others struggling out the window, just as more wolves came pouring down the stairs; there were more than Asher had anticipated. Dean cursed under his breath and chanced a glance over his shoulder. Finding the window clear, he backed towards it as quickly as he could without falling over and awkwardly climbed back down to the grass. "Get to the front lawn," he ordered as he started moving. There were no furrows there, just grass; a better place to fight.

The hunters reached the relatively open expanse just as the wolves began pouring out of the front door. All of the werewolves were naked, covered in blood and dirty and they were all seething, anger pouring from them in conjunction with their power. It was a lot to take, even for the non-supernatural beings of Dean, Sam and Amelia.

People started falling to the ground, changing with varying degrees of speed and pain. The hunters shot as many as they could, having to pause to reload after not even two minutes. Transformed wolves ran towards the hunters during that pause, snarling and snapping. Asher had said they'd be slower, but they were still fast enough to tackle the humans, still fast enough to have the upper hand.

A grey wolf with pale green eyes took Dean to the ground, jaws wrapped around his arm; thankfully he had put his jacket back on and the canvas was enough to keep the teeth from puncturing his skin. He may have been perfectly fine with Asher being a wolf, but that didn't mean he wanted to turn furry. Dean shot the grey wolf between the eyes and it collapsed on top of him. He pushed the warm body off him and hurriedly got to his feet, hazel eyes swinging around to find Sam similarly pinned with one wolf snapping at his face and another trying to gnaw through his jeans. Amelia kicked the wolf on top of Sam hard in the side, turning its attention to her instead.

Dean moved to help, but another wolf, larger, heavier and more powerful than the last, knocked him over and stood above him, snarling; a long time of drool feel onto his cheek.

There was a louder growl and a black wolf Dean was becoming increasingly familiar with wrapped her teeth around the bigger animal's neck and pulled, steering him away from Dean; the eyes that looked out from the wolf's head were green, but there was something unquestionably Asher in those eyes. Lying on his side, Dean shot the wolf three times: once in the head and twice in the chest.

Asher looked at him and then leapt into the fray.

That was when the Alpha showed up.

He was already in wolf form. Dean took one look and fired off several shots, as did Sam and Amelia. A few of the bullets struck home and the massive tawny wolf slowed down, but didn't stop; didn't fall over. He stalked across the impromptu battlefield, towards Dean, who was the closet and most direct target. Dean kept shooting until the gun clicked empty. The Alpha kept coming.

"Why won't you die?" Dean asked, exasperated.

The Alpha laughed, a rough noise that was human and disturbing coming from a wolf's mouth; blood trickled out of the wolf's mouth as he opened his maw and prepared to attack.

He didn't get the chance.

Asher, not a small wolf by any means, but small next to the Alpha, appeared behind him, growling. Her back was slightly arched, the long hairs standing up on end. With her eyes narrowed and long fangs showing, already dripping blood, she painted quite the picture. When the Alpha echoed her stance though, he again dwarfed the black wolf.

Knowing he didn't want to be anywhere near the battle and that he could help from a distance, Dean backed away from the conflict and ran to help Sam and Amelia take out the remaining wolves, leaving Asher to face down the Alpha who had taken every last bit of her humanity.

Why did you bring the hunters here? the Alpha asked, voice rumbling through her head.

Telepathic communication felt like nails on the inside of her skull; at least, it did with the Alpha. She winced and stared into the Alpha's eyes, drawing on all her concentration to give a response. It was not something that came easily to her. I brought them to kill you and your wolves. You are murderers and you need to be stopped.

You are one of us.

I am not! But even as Asher protested, she knew how close she had been to losing control of her beast, how close she had come to completely losing herself. Her wolf felt the desire to kill and she knew if she had lost herself, she probably would have become a murderer, someone the hunters would have to take down. I am not one of you, she said again. And I won't let myself become like you.

You are an animal.

Maybe, but I'm also a human.

You are not.

In response, Asher leapt forward and slammed into the Alpha's chest, using every bit of her strength to knock him over. She stood above him, a leg on either side of his head, nose close to his eye, knowing full well that it was only because of the already copious amount of silver in his system that had allowed her to knock him over. Making sure the Alpha was looking her in the eyes, Asher shifted back to her human shape, a hand on either side of the Alpha's head and the weight of her body holding him to the ground. She bared her teeth in a wolfish gesture and snarled, "I am human."

"Ash!"

Senses still in hyperactive mode, Asher raised a hand and caught the knife Amelia threw, the blade cutting into the skin on her palm from the way she caught it and from the high silver content. She shifted her grip on the knife and pressed the tip against the Alpha's eye, the orb trembling slightly until the touch of cold metal. "You're done."

She shoved the knife in quickly, up to the miniscule hilt, but in a last show of strength, Alpha tossed his head and pushed Asher off him, twisting in such a way that allowed him to sink his teeth into the flesh of her side. Asher screamed, but slammed her hand into the knife, sending it farther into Alpha's head and stealing that last little bit of life from him. The giant wolf collapsed and Asher rolled away from him, hands clutching at her side, trying to stem the flow of blood.

The other hunters ran to her, Amelia instantly moving to investigate the wound and Dean taking her head in his lap, hands on her cheeks, holding her so he could look her in the eye.

There were tears in her eyes and pain. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit... FUCK!" she screamed.

"Why isn't it starting to heal?" Amelia asked, panicked.

"Silver. The bastard had silver somewhere!"

Sam was kneeling beside Alpha's corpse. It had just transformed back to a man and the taller Winchester was poking around. After a moment, he rose to his feet and joined the others. "Silver caps on his teeth."

"WHAT?" Asher groaned loudly and pressed herself against Dean.

"Ash, I can't do anything for this. I can't get it to start healing. I don't know what to do!"

The werewolf groaned again, trying to grab at her side. Amelia kept pushing her hands away. Dean held onto her tighter, fighting the very real urge to hug her for fear of hurting her. "I've got to change," she managed to say. "It'll help."

"But you won't be able to change until the morning! The moon is full!"

Amelia sounded so panicked that Sam crouched beside her and wrapped his arms around her even as he kept his dark eyes roving the yard and house, looking for any sign of further attack. The young woman crumbled against Sam, clinging, the tears finally starting to fall. Asher would be able to change back in the morning, sure, but that was only if she survived the night and the blood still hadn't stopped.

"Ash..."

"Amelia," she snapped. "I'll be fine." She turned her blue eyes to Dean. "Let me go."

Dean stared at her for a moment and then nodded. He shimmied out from under her head and watched as she rolled onto her side—the blood flow increasing—and then pushed herself up onto her knees. She screamed as the change began to ripple through her and then she fell back onto the ground, once again a black wolf, her fur slick with blood.

Amelia tried to approach her sister.

Asher growled and snapped at her hand.

Author's Note.

Damn it, I want Supernatural to come back... I miss it! I miss Dean.

I also want the world to spin slower so I can have more time in the day to do stuff.

I also also want school to be done.

But not at the same time.

Life is so conflicting sometimes...

GRAAAAAGH.

Anyways, enjoy.

Next Chapter: Not Quite Finished.