Dean continued to train, study his dad's journals and any folklore he could get his hands on. It was easier to concentrate once Sammy started going to school full time, Bobby decided there was no way John was keeping both of them from having an education. Not while he was alive and kicking.
"Pop quiz time Dean" John chirped.
"Do your worst" He smirked, cocky.
"Werewolf, how do you kill it?" John rattled off quickly.
"That's an easy one, Silver bullet to the heart" Dean replied with a scoff.
"Apparent vengeful spirit is terrorizing a family, what do you?" He continued.
"Step one: Confirm the haunting, talk the family members, ask about cold spots, strange noises, things being moved around or thrown and any other unexplainable problems they may be experiencing and EMF readings to confirm" Dean started.
"What else" John pressed.
"Step two: Research, hit the library and town hall for any and all deaths related to the house or property and find out where said casualties are buried" He continued.
"Good, keep going" He replied, keeping the pressure on.
"Step three: Use the newly acquired information to determine who I'm dealing with, find their grave, salt and burn the bones" He replied, pleased with himself.
"Excellent" John grinned.
"Vampires, go" He continued, pacing around the small room.
"Remove the head, it's the only way to kill them but that's a trick question because no one has seen one of those for at least a decade" Dean recited, slightly confused.
"You still need to know how to kill them, you never know when they might make a come back, all it takes is one blood sucker to create a whole army" John reminded him.
"Fair enough" Dean agreed, taking a moment to stuff a fistful of fries into his mouth.
"Have you studied the folklore I gave you on Changelings yet? John asked, rolling his eyes at Dean's chipmunked cheeks.
Dean held up a single finger while he finished his mouthful of fries.
"Not entirely done with the books yet, but I've read most them already" Dean admitted.
"Alright, lets test what you've learned so far then" John smirked.
"Fine with me" Dean replied, sounding cocky even for a sixteen year old.
"True or false, Changelings are swapped for human infants shortly after birth" John started.
"False, they can also swap out kids and adults of any age group as long as it suits their needs but they usually go for younger children and feed off of their human mothers, eventually killing them" Dean recited, a glint of smart-assdom in his eyes.
"Don't get cocky kid" John warned, his devious grin matching Deans.
"How can you tell if someone is, in fact a Changeling?" John asked, glancing over the edge of the old, leather bound book he was reading.
"Mirror or any reflective surface really, will show their true form" Dean replied, unfazed.
"Good, I'm proud of you kid" John beamed, pleased with his eldest son. His hunter.
"Finally, how do you kill them?" He asked suddenly.
"Fire" Dean replied, flinching slightly.
"Very good" John grinned, ignoring Dean's reaction.
"Shtriga?" He continued the questioning, trying to catch Dean off guard.
"Consecrated iron rounds but only while it's feeding, otherwise it's immortal" Dean replied quietly.
"Sorry kid, had to ask" John assured him.
"Shape shifters?" He continued quickly, not allowing Dean to wallow.
"Silver blade or bullet to the heart, decapitation is also an option" Dean sighed, growing bored of all the questions.
"Am I boring you son?" John questioned, cocking an eyebrow.
"You know that I've studied all of this, why the questions all of a sudden?" Dean asked curiously.
"Because I needed to know that you're ready" John replied simply, an impish smile playing on his lips.
"Ready for what?" Dean questioned, tilting his head to side slightly.
"Your first solo hunt" John grinned excitedly.
"Really? But what about Sammy?" Dean asked, almost giddy.
"Sammy isn't a baby anymore.. he's also spending the weekend at Bobby's" John reassured him, grinning ear to ear.
"What are we hunting?" Dean asked, vibrating with excitement.
"We?" John repeated, cocking an eyebrow.
"Well yeah, you're coming with me aren't you?" Dean replied, confused.
"No, Dean this is your hunt, that is if you think you can handle it" John clarified.
"Of course I can handle it" Dean scoffed.
"Good, glad to hear it" John grinned.
"What am I hunting?" He asked, excitement flooding through him again.
"Werewolf" John smirked, watching Dean's reaction.
"My first solo hunt and I'm going after a Werewolf?" Dean gasped, a grin stretching across his face as it sunk in.
"You bet and you're going to need this" John told him, tossing the car keys at him.
"You're giving me the keys to the Impala?" Dean asked stunned as he stared at the keys, nestled into the palm of his hand.
"I'm giving you the car, Dean" John told him, watching the sparks of pure joy flare in his son's eyes.
"The Impala, you're giving me the freaking Impala?" Dean almost squealed.
"Bobby found me a really nice truck and with you starting to hunt solo, you're going to need your own wheels" John explained, soaking up Dean's reaction.
"T-Thank you!" Dean shouted, unable to contain his excitement for a second longer.
"Go, take it for a test drive and we'll discuss the werewolf when you get back" John told him, dismissing him.
Dean climbed into the driver's seat, quickly pulled the seat belt over his shoulder and after picking out which cassette he wanted to listen to, pulled out of the parking lot.
Highway to Hell blared through the speakers as Dean drove down the road, careful to stay just below the speed limit so he wouldn't attract any unwanted attention.
As he cruised down the streets of the sleepy Wyoming town he couldn't help but feel liberated, free from all his responsibilities, if only for a little while.
For a short while Dean felt free, the world of monsters and murder melting further and further away with every cassette track and every mile, for the first time since his mom died Dean didn't have to worry about anything. Sammy was safe with Bobby, probably working on a history paper at that exact moment, his dad was waiting for him back at the storage locker and not fighting something that could potentially kill him and he was driving the freaking Impala. His Impala.
The sound of a ringing cellphone snapped him back to reality as he fished it out of his pocket and flipped it open, pressing it to his ear.
"Hello?" Dean spoke, flustered into the phone.
"Hey, Dean I need you back here before nightfall son" John reminded him.
"Right, sorry Dad I'll be right there" He muttered quickly before snapping the phone shut and shoving it back into his pocket.
"Back to reality" Dean sighed, making a U-turn and driving quickly back to the storage locker.
Dean decided to listen to the radio on the way back to the locker, he popped the cassette out of the player and tucked it away before taking a moment to adjust the station.
The soft sound of KISS flowed through the speakers as the song Beth played, catching him off guard for a moment. Dean pulled over while the song finished, his mind swimming with the memory of the sweet young girl that he lost his virginity to, the girl that showed him that there was more to the world than death and monsters.
A few tears found their way down his cheeks, dripping onto to the sleeve of his old leather jacket, leaving small trails in the creases.
"I wonder what she's up to now" Dean thought as he pulled the car back onto the highway and continued towards the storage locker.
John was waiting outside when he pulled up.
"Come, stock up on ammo and hit the road before you the miss the thing" John snapped lightly.
"Yes sir" He replied.
Dean carefully selected a revolver from their collection and a box of silver bullets to match, placing them under the front seat of the car.
"Alright, where am I headed?" Dean asked from the rolled down window of his new car.
"Lockwood" John replied bluntly.
"Lockwood? That's what, three and half hours from here right?" Dean asked, mulling the name over in his head and trying to remember if drove through it on the way to Casper.
"Right around there, you better get going son, you need to get there before that wolf takes another life" John instructed, his voice unsteady.
"I'm leaving right now, i'll call you when the job is done" Dean replied before starting the Impala again.
"Dean" John started, hesitantly.
"Yeah dad?" Dean asked, inpatient.
"Be safe out there, please" John said finally, his voice thick with concern.
"I'll be fine, you and Sammy need me too much not to be" Dean smiled his crooked, wicked smile that let his dad know he would be alright.
"Besides.. I was trained by the best" He whispered before pulling away and starting the long drive to Lockwood.
AC/DC blared through the speakers the whole way there, filling head with familaure lyrics and calming his nerves.
A sign reading "Lockwood 1" caught his attention as he neared the outskirts of town and moments later he was finding a place to park his new Baby along Old Hardin Road, this particular werewolf's hunting ground.
The sun was just starting to dip low in the sky as he parked the Impala in a well treed area, keeping it unseen from the road and loaded the revolver.
"Soon" He thought, sliding the bullets into the chamber as the sun all but disappeared, allowing the moon and stars to take centre stage.
A few more hours slipped slowly by as he sat, waiting quietly for some sign that the wolf was there.
A shiver inducing howl ripped through the thick night air, making the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up on end.
"It's here" Dean thought nervously, stepping out of the car and out onto the road to look.
Although he couldn't see it yet, Dean listened as another howl echoed through the night and the sound of heavy footsteps crunched towards him.
"Where are you" He thought, looking around the seemingly empty stretch of road.
The footsteps grew louder and faster paced and suddenly it was on top of him, forcing him to the ground under its immense weight.
"Dammit!" Dean growled as his back met the gravel road with some force.
The beast growled, snapped its jaws at Dean's face and dug a set of claws into his chest.
BANG BANG.
The revolver went off in his hand and two silver bullets lodged themselves into the chest of the beast that was eagerly trying to end his young life. It's eyes widened in horror as the spark of life left them and it's now empty body slumped lifelessly on top of Dean, pushing him into the gravel with all its weight.
"Get off me, you mutt!" Dean groaned and used what leverage he could to shove the huge, deceptively heavy corpse off of him.
Dean shoved the creature onto it's back and fired one more shot, straight through it's heart to make sure it was dead before pouring a jug of gasoline over it, striking a match and walking away.
Climbing back into the Impala Dean pulled the cellphone from his pocket and dialed his fathers number.
"Dean? are you okay?" The somewhat frantic voice asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine dad. It's dead, burnt and I'm on my way back right now, see you in a couple hours" Dean replied robotically before hanging up and starting the drive back to Casper, completely numb to the amount of blood he was losing.
Light headedness was beginning to set in as he neared the outskirts of Casper and the exhaustion made it hard, if not for him impossible to concentrate on the road but he was too close to the motel to stop now.
Dean pulled up in front of the motel room and crawled out of the Impala, nearly falling flat on his face with his first step.
Slumping against the door, Dean fished the key out of his jeans and let himself in, losing his balance in the process and flying headlong onto the floor at the foot of John's bed.
"Dean?" John mumbled groggily as he felt for the light switch.
"Dad" Dean groaned, pushing himself against the bed to keep himself upright.
"Oh my God, what happened Dean!" John gasped, staring at the blood soaked shirt and jeans clinging to his clearly injured son.
"It got me.. with it's claws" Dean whispered softly, overwhelmed by exhaustion.
"Here, get on the bed and let me see" He instructed, hauling him off the floor and helping onto the bed.
Dean slipped in and out of consciousness as his dad went to work on him, taking the scissors to his t-shirt before cleaning and stitching up his chest.
"You lost a lot of blood Dean but you're going to be okay" John assured him, gently bandaging over the fresh stitches.
That was the last thing Dean heard before the world went black around him.
The next morning as Dean woke up, he could finally feel everything that happened the night before and it hurt. A lot.
"Woah, Woah! Don't move around so much kid you'll rip your stitches" John instructed, quickly putting his hands on Dean's shoulders and pushing him gently back down to the bed.
"Ouch! What the hell dad" Dean groaned, still not fully awake.
"You came back from the hunt a little torn up son, I stitched you up and put you to bed" John explained softly.
"Right..Wolf..Claws..ugh" Dean thought disjointedly as his memory seeped back.
"How's your chest feeling, Dean?" He asked gently as he removed the bandages to make sure he didn't rip anything beneath them.
"Like a werewolf sunk its claws into it.. oh wait" Dean chuckled, regretting it immediately as the stitches pulled uncomfortably on his skin.
"Well at least it left your sense of humour in tack" John laughed, rolling his eyes at his eldest son.
A moment later, Dean could hear his cellphone singing from the pocket of his leather jacket that was swung over the back of one of the kitchen chairs.
"Damn it Dean, I said don't move. I'll get it" John snapped, pushing Dean back into the bed again.
"Hello?" John barked into the receiver.
Dean watched as Johns expression softened in an instant and knew immediately who was calling him.
"Hey Sammy" Dean chirped as his dad handed him the phone.
"Hi Dean, are you coming back to Bobby's soon?" Sam asked, sounding chipper and hopeful.
Dean looked over at his dad and gestured at his chest, wordlessly asking him when he could move. John rolled his eyes and held up two fingers, shaking his head slightly and picking his journal back up.
"Couple more days bud, Dad and I just have a few more things we need to do before we head back okay?" Dean replied quickly, suddenly finding his stitches more noticeable and rather itchy.
"Okay" Sammy sighed.
"So Sammy, how's school going? Learn anything new yet?" Dean asked, changing the subject in hopes of raising his spirits.
Sammy went on to tell Dean all about what he was studying in school, new math formulas, the wars he was reading about in History, even that they started playing football in PE but he really didn't like it or any sports for that matter.
Dean listened intently for a long time while he gushed about writing assignments, essays and the cute girl that sat three seats up from him in english class, he wasn't sure what her name was but she smelled like flowers and liked reading just about as much as he did.
"Sounds like love to me" Dean chuckled to himself.
"I'm so glad you're enjoying school" Dean told him, smiling at his cellphone.
"It's pretty fun" Sam replied happily.
"I have to go Sam, do me a favour? Talk to that girl, find out what her name is and share your lunch with her or something, you won't regret it" Dean told him, remembering his first girlfriend he met when he was thirteen.
"But.. what if she doesn't like me?" Sam whispered.
"She's going to like you Sammy, you're tall, smart and that stupid face of yours is cute to most people" Dean laughed, reassuring his brother.
"Okay.. Thanks Dean" Sammy replied, his voice steady again.
"Anytime little brother, go study something, I'll see you soon" Dean told him with a grin before closing the phone and placing it on the nightstand.
"What was that about?" John asked curiously.
"Little Sammy met a girl" Dean grinned stupidly, excited for him.
"Is that so? What's she like?" John asked happily,
"Apparently smart, brunette and smells like flowers" Dean laughed.
"Sounds right, what's this girls name?" John giggled.
"Oh that's the kicker, he hasn't actually asked her yet" Dean told him, bursting out laughing even though it pulled on his stitches.
John boomed with laughter, shaking his head as he turned his attention back to the journal in his hand.
"Here, I want you take this and start filling it out" John instructed as he placed a well aged, leather journal into Dean's hands.
"A journal?" Dean questioned, turning it over in his hands and noting how soft the leather was.
"Every hunter should have one, it's important to keep track of the things you hunt" John explained simply.
"Okay, thanks dad" Dean smiled, before getting to work on his first journal entry.
Dean stared at his new journal for a long moment, turning it over in his hands, feeling the soft worn leather against his skin and taking in the smell that poured off it as the hide grew warm from his hands.
The smell filled his nostrils and reminded him of Bobby's study, filled to the bursting point with antique tomes of folklore and anything else they might need to study. The thought made him smile as he looked at the book, anxious to start writing but unsure of how to start.
"July 13th, 1995" He started simply, stopping to think about how to continue.
"Having trouble getting started?" John mused, noticing the puzzled look on Dean's face.
"I just don't know where to start" Dean shrugged, chewing on his bottom lip slightly and drumming his fingers on his leg.
"Just write about your experience, what happened, how you killed it" John suggested helpfully.
"I'll try" Dean replied with a sigh, suddenly feeling worn out.
July 13th, 1995; Lockwood Montana.
Three local teenagers were found dead, hearts missing from their chests. Missing organs suggests Werewolf, this was confirmed upon further investigation and two more heartless bodies were found on the same stretch of road.
July 17th, 1995;
Staking out Old Hardin Road, the Werewolf crept out of the woods around midnight. It was larger than expected, at least six feet tall, rust coloured fur.
After one hell of a fight and some minor injuries, the beast was taken down with two silver bullets to the heart, the body was salted and burnt on site.
"How do this look?" Dean asked anxiously, holding the journal out.
John took the book from his hands and quickly glanced at his first entry.
"Nice job, keeping track of the dates and locations of your hunts is very important" John told him, handing him back the journal approvingly.
"Thanks" Dean smiled, pleased with his first entry.
"You look exhausted kid" John commented, looking up over the top of the book he was reading.
"I feel worse than I look, I assure you" Dean groaned, the skin of his chest pulling awkwardly with every move.
John put his book face down on the table in front of him and after some digging, pulled a bottle of pills out of his duffle bag.
"Take these, get some rest" John ordered, placing two round, white pills in the palm of his hand and handing him a bottle of water.
"What is this?" Dean asked questioningly, examining the pills.
"They're just pain killers Dean, they won't hurt you" John laughed, amused by the suspicion in his voice.
"If you say so" Dean replied, too tired to push for more information.
Dean tossed the pills to the back of his mouth and quickly took several large gulps of water to wash them down, realizing for the first time since he woke up, exactly how thirsty he was.
"Those shouldn't take long to kick in, so get comfortable" John told him, getting up and helping his with his pillows.
"Thanks dad" Dean mumbled.
"Anytime son" John smiled warmly, pulling the blankets up and tucking Dean in for first time since he was four years old.
When Dean finally woke up, the sun was high and hot in the windows of the motel room and the digital clock on the nightstand said it was three pm.
"Glad to see you're finally awake!" John commented.
"How long was I out?" Dean groaned.
"Around eighteen hours, give or take the few times you sat up in bed and asked for pie" John smirked.
"Eightteen hours" Dean repeated, stunned.
"Yeah, maybe I should have started you out with one of those pills" John snorted.
"No kidding.. hey.. do we have pie?" Dean asked with a grin and a hunger like a grizzly bear fresh out of hibernation.