Chapter 2 - The Boy Peering Between The Bushes

"You don't look too good Dean..." John said turning the heat up. "And roll your window back up. You've stopped puking like thirty minutes ago."

Dean's slow response was unnatural, it took him about a minute to get his head up before pushing the button to scroll down the window. "Dean, we need to stop somewhere. Honestly, you look like crap."

Although Dean could barely hear his father's words, he responded with a croaky groan.

"Alright, but can we get something to eat? I'm starving." Dean almost begged, leaning his head yet again against the panel of the window.

He tried to imagine he was alone with someone else, deep way in the forest, leaning up against a hard lean chest. But these usual Dean thoughts were actually making him want to hurl again, so he just continued to lean against the window and just close his eyes until his Dad stopped somewhere.

Dean felt like it took forever to open his eyes, but when he did, he almost went blind by the flashing and blinking lights. The car was parked in front of a big sized Denny's that was hopping with people. Dean imagined that he and his father just pulled up because as soon as Dean began figuring out what to do, John slid the keys out of the ignition and began to get out.

Dean followed his father's steps, closing the door behind him.

"I know I'm hungry but Denny's? Really?" Dean would admit though, they did have good pancakes.

"Eh, they have good breakfast." His father shrugged.

They entered the restaurant and stood there waiting to be seated. Behind the register was a woman in her late thirties or early forties with bright red hair. "Hey gentleman." She said kindly, grabbing two menu's from under the counter.

She was wearing a bright light blue suit with a white apron over it. Dean thought maybe she was a manager who did a lot of the work here.

"A table for two?" She asked, before suggesting if she could grab another menu. "Yes please, and a booth if you have one."

The lady smiled politely. "Sure thing."

She began walking into the diner, as Dean and his father followed pursuit. The lady set the menu's down on the table. "Your waiter will be here in a moment." She pronounced, before moving back to the front door where the register was.

Now that Dean and his father both have been seated, he wanted to get down to the talking and finally get some answers.

"So how far away are we from the house?" Dean asked, grabbing a hold of his napkin and laying it on his lap.

There were multiple sets of small cups with water in them, so as John took a small swig from one, he answered his son's question. "We're about five miles from the house. It's actually in a small gated community called the Gated Community of Thrunsdale.''

Dean really thought that name was screaming with originality...

He too also took a sip of water before setting it back down on the table. "Dad, what are we even doing here?" Dean said, folding his hands together.

John looked at his son straight in the eye.

"Son, I'm gonna be one hundred percent honest with you. It's not like we're gonna expect to go out hunting one night and kill a werewolf. Plus, werewolves only change one night throughout the entire month because of a full moon. And the chances of killing this thing is even slimmer. I heard about this Dean. This thing killed over fifty people this past six months. That's almost ten killings per month in one single night. I've never heard anything like this. I mean, it was on the front page of the newspaper every day for the past month. Over 200 sightings? Dean, this thing is strong. Very strong. I'm even thinking of getting a trainer to get in shape. Dean, I don't know if you can handle this. I mean, yeah, you're going to the high school in the meanwhile because we might not catch this thing for quite sometime, but I think that's the best choice. Studies could get your mind off of hunting for awhile, you know, make some friends."

Dean could see it in his father's eyes. Something he almost never saw.

Complete fear.

Dean's father looked terrified. Not for his son, but also for himself. He knew he couldn't fight this thing alone. "But dad, if you're having doubt in yourself, then why even try to catch this asshole? I mean, we have over one hundred silver bullets just in the back of the Impala. I think we could easily catch this bastard." John looked down at the menu. "I really don't want to talk about this. Let's just find something to eat here." John began to evaluate the menu choices as Dean stared out the window.

All this new information was processing through his brain like a scanner. His father's worried state was giving him doubt in himself too.

Then Dean saw it. A peculiar teenage boy was sitting on the curb beside the restaurant. He had dark brown hair that shaped down to his eyes and his hands were inside his sweatshirt. The boy was staring right at Dean, staring straight into his eyes.

Dean felt as if a dark cloud just passed over his head because he began to get really cold. Dean looked away and shivered.

"Anything wrong?" John asked.

"No, I'm just really really cold. I hate this Winter, that's all."

John laughed. "You've hated Winter as long as I could remember." John stared back down at the menu. "I think I know what I want." He exclaimed, finally settling down the menu.

Dean peered back to witness the boy's gaze again.

But he was gone.

Thirty minutes later, Dean and his father were walking out of Denny's with leftovers. "Hey Dean, hold this. I want to get this town's daily newspaper." John said, giving his box to his son.

John walked over to an orange covered box titled in black letters Thrunsdale Tribune. John flipped opened the glass cover and grabbed a hold of one of the newspaper, glaring down at the front cover.

Even from where Dean was parked, he could see the title printed clearly. Will The Thrunsdale Terror Strike Again? printed in bold white lettering. Below that was a picture that Dean mostly likely thought was taken by a hunter. The picture was set in the woods during night time, and you could clearly see a monster with sharp teeth glaring back at the film.

Dean could clearly see they were dealing with a werewolf.

Dean began to kick the snow off the curb, where it splattered onto the parking lot. "Damn you Winter." He murmured under his breath.

Then he felt it, right where he was parked. Not like when he was in the hotel lobby or puking out the window, no. Like when he was back in the restaurant and that boy was staring back at him on the curb.

He felt that darkness.

Dean was drawn to it somehow. That dark cloud over him. Dean felt that too. Where was this energy coming from?

Then Dean saw it. Those same eyes sat on the curb. The same boy who was on the curb staring at Dean through the window was now peering through the tall garden bushes across the street.

Yeah yeah yeah, I know. This chapter was much shorter than the last but I already have a third chapter coming up soon and if I start getting reviews it could come up even quicker!