Chapter 5

It was the week before the February full moon when we once again left Bobby's for Pennsylvania. Dean and I had stayed for a couple of weeks, fine-tuning our skills with the compressed-air-powered tranquiliser gun (the trajectory on the darts took some getting used to) and learning how to load the darts with the aconitine/chloroform solution for when it was time to go hunting. We also cast dozens more silver bullets from a heap of old jewellery Dean bought cheap at Bobby's friendly neighbourhood pawnbroker - it was more rounds than we were going to need, but it never hurts to be prepared.

I hadn't brought up the loup-garou/Hellhound thing with Dean again. He was determined not to talk about it, so I decided I wasn't going to push. He didn't exactly sleep well at Bobby's, but at least he stopped taking caffeine pills and got more than a couple of hours a night. He was still quiet though, and didn't resort to playing pranks on me even after we'd run out of silver to cast bullets, mastered the tranquiliser gun and worked out a plan to use them both. He slept in a separate room the whole time, so I don't know if he was having nightmares - if I had to guess, though, I'd say he was. I don't know how he couldn't. But he was functioning, so I left well enough alone.

"You boys sure you don't want some help on this one?" Bobby asked, as he followed us out to the Impala. The car wasn't gleaming anymore and it was raining this time, with thunder rumbling in the distance. It was appropriately ominous, I suppose, considering what Dean and I were setting off to hunt.

"Thanks, but we got it." Dean replied, shutting the trunk on our bags and opening his door. "Thanks for the help, Bobby. We owe you one." he added, and Bobby nodded.

"I'm gonna want that gun back." he said, a solemn expression on his face. I got the feeling what he really wanted to say was Don't get yourselves killed.

"We'll bring it back, Bobby." I replied, from the other side of the car. Don't worry, we'll be careful. A little smile temporarily disrupted the troubled look on Bobby's face - he understood what I was trying to say.

"So let's go get this thing." Dean got into the driver's seat and brought the engine to life, waving his hand at me in an impatient 'hurry up' gesture. I got in next to him and we once again left Bobby standing his driveway, watching the tail lights of the Impala disappear in the rain.

So that's how we came to be in Williamsport's Wildwood Cemetery at night in winter. I had the tranquiliser gun loaded with the wolfsbane darts, and Dean had the stainless steel Taurus packed full of silver rounds he'd cast at Bobby's. It was still freezing cold, but hey: at least it wasn't snowing.

I suppose you're wondering why we were in Williamsport at all, given how the loup-garou moved onto a new city every month. You might call it a calculated risk. At Lac รก Loup, Alain had made it pretty clear to us that the loup-garou would hunt us down like it did the posse in the 30s, and after a few days at Bobby's Dean had proposed a plan to use that to our advantage.

Honestly, the plan didn't thrill me. When Dean had sat opposite me at Bobby's kitchen table and suggested I sit in a tree with the poison darts, while he stood below with the silver rounds and played bait, I almost spat out my coffee. But I couldn't come up with a better idea, so we were stuck with this one. No matter how reckless and dangerous it was.

From my perch in the tree, well-hidden amongst the evergreen's needles, I had an unobstructed view of the park-like field of graves sprawling out before us. There were only wisps of cloud in the sky, and the light from the full moon was strong enough to cast deep shadows. Dean was standing below me, gun ready in hand with the safety off, also constantly scanning the graveyard.

"This is a bad idea, Dean." I said, for the umpteenth time since he'd pitched it.

There was an exasperated sigh from below, and I could just imagine the annoyed expression on Dean's face. "You finally got a better one?" he asked simply, and it was my turn to sigh. I didn't.

"What if it doesn't come for us? A heap of innocent people could get killed while we sit here-" I continued, but was interrupted by a drawn-out, bone-chilling howl from the hills above the cemetery.

"Sounds like that's not gonna be a problem." Dean replied drily. His voice was steady, but that howl must've sent his heart rate through the roof - I know it sent mine skyrocketing.

Dean took a deep breath and checked the clip of shiny silver rounds, and patted the two spares in his jeans pockets. "Come on, Cujo - let's get this over with." he muttered as I scanned the trees around us, searching the shadows for any sign of a lurking loup-garou.

"Can you see it?" Dean asked, after a minute. "Nothing yet. I don't suppose we'll get a lot of warning." I said softly, still looking around. "For those of us standing on the ground that's really not helpful, Sam." Dean replied - I could almost hear him grinding his teeth. "I'm looking, Dean, but..." I started, but trailed off as I saw a flash of movement in the trees on the other side of the field of graves. Dean brought the Taurus up, ready.

"What?" he hissed, and the branches around me rustled as I adjusted my position slightly. "Thought I saw something in the trees on the other side of the big angel headstone over there. About two o'clock." I said, my voice hushed. "If it's there, it can probably hear you anyway." Dean observed, peering through the rows of headstones to the stand of trees about 50 yards away. What I'd seen was only really a slightly deeper shadow among the trees, but it was definitely there.

"I don't see it." he said, after a few tense seconds. I stayed quiet and released the safety on the tranquiliser gun, watching the shadow move out of the trees. "Behind the graves." I whispered, and Dean looked back out at the headstones.

From my spot in the tree I could see the loup-garou clearly, slinking closer behind a row of gravestones. Holy Christ, that thing was huge. It moved with almost feline grace, its giant paws hardly making a sound in the grass.

"First chance you get, Sam." Dean reminded me quietly, taking a few deep breaths. "I know, Dean." I already had the gun up to my shoulder, looking down the barrel at the loup-garou as I tracked it across the graveyard.

The loup-garou got within 20 yards of Dean before I got a clear shot. The animal paused for a second at a broken headstone, leaving its muscular shoulder open. I immediately squeezed the trigger on the tranquiliser gun, and with a hiss of compressed air the dart quickly covered the 20 yards and lodged deep in the loup-garou's shoulder. The barbs on the needle tip held it fast, and the momentum of the steel ball in the tail of the dart depressed the syringe plunger, delivering the poison directly into the beast's bloodstream.

The loup-garou growled when the dart hit and threw its head around to try and tear the offending item out of its shoulder. It caught the dart between its teeth and ripped it free, the plastic disintegrating in its jaws. Its blue eyes fell on the only human it could see, which was Dean. If it hadn't wanted to kill him before, it sure as hell did now.

The loup-garou closed the distance between itself and Dean faster than I thought possible. Even ready as he was, he didn't have time to properly aim as the monster leapt at him - he got a shot off, but I saw a small puff of red mist as the bullet just grazed the giant wolf's shoulder. It yowled in pain and lashed out with a giant paw.

The swipe caught Dean in the left shoulder. It knocked him through the air and into a tree nearly ten feet away, sending the Taurus flying into the surrounding long grass. He hit the trunk of the tree hard, driving all the breath from his lungs, then sank to the ground with a groan and lay completely still.

From my spot in the tree, I could only watch on in horror as the loup-garou turned the tables on us in only a few seconds. "Dean!" I shouted, scrambling hurriedly down through the branches. As I hit the ground I dropped the tranquiliser gun and pulled out my Beretta, also loaded with silver ammunition, and ran to Dean's side.

"Dean." I breathed, seeing the scarlet blood running from a cut above his left eye. He was still breathing though, and I didn't have time to check any further - there was a growl from behind me, and I turned to see the loup-garou coming again.

Time seemed to slow down as I brought my gun up to the loup-garou's chest. I was in front of Dean, on one knee, and in the split-second it took me to aim I saw the monster in far more detail than I ever wanted to - white teeth gleaming, blue eyes shining murderously, muscles rippling as it ran, and claws tearing ripping into the earth and sending chunks of grass and soil flying out behind it. It got so close I could see the individual whiskers on its muzzle. Then, I pulled the trigger.

I got off as many shots as I could, and I remember thinking that at this point it was probably going to tear my throat out anyway. But if I was going, then I was damn sure going to take the monster with me.

I saw a handful of silver bullets hit it in the chest, accompanied by little puffs of red mist, and I was actually pretty confident I'd hit the heart - right up until the loup-garou hit me like a freight train and sent me crashing back into Dean. It drove all the breath from my body, and I heard something crack against the trunk of the tree before stars exploded in my vision like multicoloured fireworks. I was out like a light before I even really knew what happened.

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When I came to, it was snowing lightly. I was laying on my back looking up at the sky, and as my head cleared it occurred to me that I shouldn't be waking up at all. The last thing I remembered was the loup-garou crashing into me just after I emptied my clip into its chest, and I'd fully expected it to tear my head off.

But obviously I was still alive. I wasn't in Heaven, that's for sure - I was freezing, my back and neck were cramping, and I had a spectacular headache. I was laying on something, and my spine was twisted in a rather uncomfortable position.

"Sam."

I heard Dean's rasping whisper close by, but I couldn't see him anywhere.

"Sam." he repeated, louder this time. I looked around a little, trying not to move my head too much, but I still couldn't see Dean.

It was at that point that the uncomfortable thing I was laying on moved. My heart skipped a beat, and I froze.

"Sam, get off me!" Dean demanded, annoyance creeping into his voice.

It took me a second, but my brain eventually worked it out. Dean was still laying where the loup-garou had thrown him - where I'd then crashed into him, and evidently passed out across his chest.

I sat up slowly, my head spinning a little, and heard Dean take a few deep breaths. "Dude, you're heavy. You know that?" he groaned, and I looked back over my shoulder at him. There were a series of parallel tears in his jacket at the top of his left arm and the black fabric was dark and shiny with blood, but I couldn't see any other damage.

"You okay?" I asked, and he groaned again. "I'm awesome." he rolled his eyes and winced when he tried to sit up. "You might wanna go easy on your left shoulder, there." I advised, and Dean looked at me witheringly. Before he could make some sarcastic remark about stating the obvious, his expression changed suddenly as something more important occurred to him.

"Did we get it?" His voice had a tense edge as he looked quickly around the cemetery for any sign of a giant, man-eating wolf. "We must've got it, right? I mean, we're still alive." he went on, eyes still scanning the area around us. My heart fluttered as I remembered the wolf - believe it or not, I'd actually kind of forgotten about that.

"I hit it with the dart, and filled its chest full of silver..." I frowned and started looking around too, doubts suddenly nagging at me. If Alain Johns had been wrong about the wolfsbane, or if we'd missed something in the mythology... well, it was pretty simple, really: if we hadn't killed the loup-garou, then we were as good as dead. A sudden chill rolled over me that had nothing to do with the snow.

Dean and I searched our surroundings, both staying as still as possible while we did so. My heart rate climbed steadily as I strained to see anything through the snow and the darkness. It hadn't been this dark before, I was sure - the moon had lit up the graveyard like daylight, and I'd been able to see everything. While I'd been unconscious the clouds had rolled in and mostly blocked out the moon, and Wildwood Cemetery was now uncomfortably and dangerously dark.

"I don't see anything." Dean whispered, so low I almost didn't hear him. "Me neither." I breathed, and I heard Dean exhale slowly. "If it were still alive, it would've torn us apart by -" I stopped mid-sentence as my eyes locked on something in the darkness.

"What is it?" Dean hissed, and I got slowly to my feet. "It's over here." I walked gingerly in the direction of a snow-covered mound half-hidden by a tree about 15 feet away. "And?" I heard Dean moving around behind me, slowly climbing to his own feet and retrieving his gun from the grass. I heard the metallic click as he cocked the hammer.

"It's the loup-garou." I confirmed, when I got close enough to see. The snow had mostly camouflaged the charcoal fur and made it pretty hard to spot against the background, but it would take a helluva lot more snow than this to hide that monster. "It's not moving." I added, hanging back. I wasn't sure I really wanted to go poking at the thing and find out for sure if it was dead or not.

Even still and snow-covered as it was, the loup-garou looked terrifying. It hadn't turned back into its human form after it died, which was one more thing to ass to the list of weird things about this case. I could still see its razor claws, staring blue eyes, and the long canines in its mouth, which was open in its last snarl of rage and pain.

"If it's still alive, we're dead anyway. Kick it already." Dean called, from his spot leaning up against the tree that had knocked us both out. "Easy for you to say." I muttered, but took my foot back and kicked the loup-garou firmly in the shoulder with the toe of my boot. I tensed as I did, my body prepared to take off running in the other direction if the beast moved so much as a whisker.

It didn't, though. My kick dislodged some snow, revealing part of its chest - the fur was slick with blood, and the snow around it was stained red. I kicked it again, harder, but still got no response. I let out a sigh of relief, and heard a similar sound from Dean. We'd done it - we got the loup-garou before it got us.

I turned away from the wolf and headed slowly back to Dean. "So what is it with you and werewolves?" I asked, my feet crunching in the fresh snow as I walked. "They're always knocking you out." I smiled, and Dean gave me a look. His heart wasn't in it, though - I knew he was as relieved as I was to be walking away from this hunt. "We can't just leave that there." he said, nodding in the direction of the dead loup-garou. I stood next to him and considered that for a minute.

"Wanna burn it?" I asked, and a little smile touched Dean's lips. "I really, really do." he replied, and pulled a small can of lighter fluid out of one jacket pocket. "You've been waiting for this, haven't you?" I asked, following Dean over to the dark shape in the snow. "What, the opportunity to torch something that looks exactly like the Hellhound that dragged me into the Pit?" he said, and I heard a smile in his words.

He stopped next to the loup-garou, and paused for a second before he doused it in the entire can of lighter fluid. It was far enough from the tree and there was enough snow on the ground for us to be sure the fire wouldn't spread, thank God. I certainly didn't feel like lugging the thing out into the open - if Dean and I could even have moved it at all, considering how much it must've weighed and how beaten up we were. He used a lighter to ignite the accelerant, and we stood back and watched the beast burn. Thick, black smoke poured off the carcass as its hair caught, and we stepped back a little further. Burning hair is one of the most unpleasant smells I've come across - and that's saying something.

"You know, you were right." Dean said suddenly, as he stared into the orange flames. "About what?" I asked, glancing over at him. "The loup-garou. When I saw it, I thought for a second I was seeing a Hellhound, and it scared the crap out of me." he admitted, eyes still focused firmly on the fire. I stayed quiet, praying he'd keep talking. "Ever since we laid eyes on it, I've been having nightmares about that Hellhound. About what it did, and also about the fact it didn't do as much damage as this loup-garou." he sighed, and closed his eyes. I could hardly believe my ears - here was Dean initiating a 'chick-flick moment'.

"Burning this monster is cathartic, huh?" I asked, but it was more of a statement than a question. The relieved, relaxed look on Dean's face told me all I needed to know. "Oh yeah. I can't burn the Hellhound, so this is the next best thing." he opened his eyes and smiled at me. A genuine smile like I hadn't seen since we started this hunt, and I found myself smiling back. Knowing Dean was feeling better was like a weight lifted off my shoulders.

"I'm gonna sleep a helluva lot better knowing this thing's not running around under the full moon." he added, wrinkling his nose as the wind shifted slightly and blew some of the acrid black smoke our way. "Me too." I replied, looking up at the moon - it was still mostly obscured by clouds, and it occurred to me as I stood there that I wasn't thinking about Madison. I hadn't really thought about her since Dean's loup-garou-induced near-meltdown had started. I'd been too worried about my brother for the last month to indulge my own demons, which was probably a good thing - between Madison and the loup-garou, I'd have had no sleep at all.

"We'd better get outta here. Someone's gonna report the smoke soon, if they haven't already." Dean said after a minute, and interrupted my reverie. The flames were lower now, and the black smoke wasn't as thick, but it had a greasy quality to it and the air was filled with the smell of burning meat. The fire was slowly but steadily eating away the body of the beast, and it was definitely time to go. We didn't need to explain to police and fire why we were standing around a lop-garou bonfire.

Dean took one last look at the burning wolf, then turned and headed back in the direction of the Impala. I fell into step beside him, and we got into the car just as we heard sirens in the distance. "You want to get that shoulder checked out?" I asked Dean, as he started the drive back to our motel one-handed, with his injured left arm laying in his lap. "Nah. It'll be fine with a little cleaning." he replied, holding the arm a little closer to his body. "Honestly, Sam, right now all I want to do is sleep."

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