Hunter of the Shadows book 2:

Hunter Rising

Chapter 12

Now…

Dean's glass is refilled, and Tobius sits down again in the same place as before.

"Sire, Sammy's blindness," Dean seems to be struggling to ask, as though he's not sure he wants to hear the answer. "It's not like before, ya know… when Gordon Walker…"

"No," Tobius sips at his own drink and stares at the carpet. "It's nothing like that. Last time, Sam was slowly being poisoned. This is vastly different."

"How do you mean?" Dean turned his head and stared quizzically at his father.

Tobius doesn't take his glowing eyes off the carpet. "This injury was much more… direct." Finally he raises his head and meets Dean's scared gaze. "Honestly? I've never known a werewolf to survive it, and therefore we're in uncharted waters. I just don't know, Dean, when, or even if, Sam will regain his sight."

Possibly to the shock of the digital watcher, Dean actually whimpers in distress. His head slumps forwards to rest on his knees, and his face is now hidden from shot. But the shaking shoulders are a dead giveaway to the turmoil and heartbreak within, and he doesn't turn away, or shrug off the supportive arm that warmly curls around him.

"Shhh, young pup," Tobius whispers. "There's still hope. There's always hope…"

Then Tobius is rocking the poor wolf to and fro, like a baby. There are tears of his own rolling down his face by now, but Tobius will keep them quiet and stealthy for the sake of his son.

It's a sad scene to witness. Dean is a mess and being comforted by his Sire; Sam, sick and blind, is drugged unconscious on the bed, oblivious to the way his fatherbrother is crying his heart out for him.

The watcher might begin to feel that, whatever this little pack faced together, will almost certainly never be forgotten, no matter how many centuries may pass them by.

And that's rather a sad thought.

Dean's sobs eventually quiet down and his breathing evens out. Tobius relaxes back against the bed, and his eyes, swollen and red with his own tears, slide shut.

Pretty soon all three wolves are sleeping quietly, two of them in an awkward position on the floor, and somewhere in the room there's a clock ticking away the seconds, minutes, hours…

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During the night, the camera becomes dislodged again by what appears to be one of Dean's bare feet, whilst apparently in the throes of a rather physical dream.

The camera is at a slight angle, and one can just see the gloom of the bathroom, not far from the bed. It continues to click and whirl away to itself…

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Dean snuffles and jolts awake, appears surprised to find himself draped across Tobius' lap and gently shuffles away. If his groan of discomfort doesn't tell the digital audience of his regret in sleeping on the floor, then the soft, colourful language that follows is certainly a fair indicator.

The peace and quiet of the room is soon further disturbed…

"WHOOOOOMMUUUAAARRRPPPHHHHH…"

Dean grins sheepishly at the camera. "This might come as a shock, but that noise you just heard? That was actually Sire farting!" He nods sympathetically. "Yeah, I know. Guy missed his vocation. Could've been a fog horn…"

"I do hope this is a prelude to getting breakfast ready," Tobius cracks open an eye. The eye swivels towards the camera and gleams with amusement. "I do apologize for the early morning wake up call, ladies and gentlemen."

Dean hangs his head on a sigh. "You do actually realize there is no audience? Except the camera? It's just us, dude."

Tobius' other eye opens. "I'm more than aware of that, dude, but who knows where these digital chronicles will end up some day? Who will be watching and listening?" He shrugs, gets up, pats Dean on the chest, and heads into the bathroom.

He pauses and turns at the last moment, as if someone has silently called to him. Dean's smiling softly back at him, as though in thanks, which is answered with a returning fond grin and a nod before the bathroom door closes. The air is cleared, it seems. An understanding, of sorts, reached.

"He hasn't lost his touch, huh, Dean?" says Sam, sleepily. "And to think you used to be the King of Hot Air. I swear you're a bad influence on him."

Dean moves swiftly, then the camera shifts as he fiddles with the focus and resettles it on the night stand. It's now watching over the bed; its occupant's face can just be made out, but the eyelids are hooded, shielding his eyes from the camera.

"How long you been awake, Sam?" Dean asks, gently touching a hand to his brotherson's forehead.

Sam appears to blink slowly. "Not long," he rolls his head into Dean's hand, as though the contact in part made up for his lack of sight. "Dean…"

"Don't," Dean's order is sharp, daring Sam to disobey.

Of course he dares. He wouldn't be Sam otherwise.

"No, we need to talk about…" Sam swallows and nearly gags on the words but forces them out. "About what we'll do if I can't… can't see. Please, don't fob me off; I need to talk about this."

Dean sighs wearily. "Yeah, I know. And we will, I promise, so long as you promise me you won't give up hope. You're still very sick…" he coughs, almost chokes, as though it causes him physical pain to say it. "But nothing's set in stone, Sammy. We of all people should know that."

Sam's nod is slight, weary, but still a nod. "Ok," he whispers.

"Good boy," says Dean. His hand, once pressed against Sam's forehead, now brushes down the side of the kid's face. "You hungry, kiddo?"

"Not really."

"You should eat something. Didn't finish your food last night."

"Oh yeah? Bet I can guess who did," but Sam gives a weak chuckle as he says it.

"What can I say?" Dean grins at his sleepy brotherson. "I'm still a growing boy."

"Excuses, excuses," Sam shakes his head gently in amusement. "So… how's the latest journal entry coming along?" and ends the inquiry with a wide yawn.

Dean laughs softly and glances at the camera. "Ah well…"

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Then…

I rested my tongue against my top lip for a second.

"And you'll be where exactly?" I asked, a suspicion forming. To say I was pissed could be considered an understatement.

"It's not safe for Sam to be with Andy until... Sam gets his strength back." Sire stated bluntly, as though that justified everything.

I knew what that near slip of the tongue was all about. He meant until Andy was turned by Gerald or Josey and subsequently removed from the demonic radarscope.

"Andy and I will proceed by car," Sire finished, staring right at me and daring me to disagree.

Proceed by car, translated as bait. Tobius would protect Andy should the other kids show up looking for Sam, all the while keeping the heat off us. And I downright hated that idea.

I frowned and clenched my jaw. Sire…

We'll be fine, Dean.

No way! I could feel Sam's haunted gaze boring into the back of my neck. I remember all too well what happened the last damn time we split up! You were gone for months, and we thought you were dead! You hear me? Fucking DEAD!

Sire growled loudly, and we both ignored Andy's small flinch. Kid was watching the both of us very closely, obviously sensing the conflict but wisely staying out of it.

Now listen to me! Tobius snapped out. I know we've never said it outright, but Sam, as the youngest, is and always has been the sole priority of this pack, along with you as his fatherbrother, protector and future pack alpha! He breathed heavily through flared nostrils and attempted to calm his temper. You need each other far more than you need me.

Sam and I just froze. Until a shaking hand crept onto my shoulder, and I realized it was Sammy seeking my reassurance. Didn't need to turn my head to know there were tears in his eyes, so I just tightly covered his hand with mine.

Sire deflated, as though sensing the damage he'd just caused.

What I meant to say, Tobius tried again, more gently, perhaps going for a more tactful approach this time. Is that my first priority as pack alpha is the safety of my kin, and you two are all I have left in the world. I love you both too much to lose you, and if keeping you pups safe means giving up my own life then I will do it willingly… he nodded, eyes glowing with pride and love …gladly.

We were still frozen, but there was now something wet leaking from the corners of my eyes and my heart thumped painfully. John had never said that to us in all those years as his sons. We were just a part of his hunt and obsession, and nothing more.

Damn heating vents. There are only two settings on my baby's heater: 'cold' and 'roasting'. Was probably why my damn eyes were watering… hot air and all that… yeah…

"In any case," Tobius smiled, reached out and brushed the tears from Sam's face, but thankfully refrained from doing the same for me. "I think it's about time Andy and I got to know each other properly."

"And I did ok up against Ava, right guys?" Andy finally spoke up, and at just the right time too. Kid was learning. "We can handle anything else these brats throw at us."

He definitely didn't seem worried about being left alone with a virtual stranger, but then maybe he'd seen the dark shadows under Sam's eyes, the weary slump to his shoulders, and somehow understood his friend badly needed to change.

Tobius glanced proudly at Andy. He'll make a magnificent werebear.

And suddenly Sam and I realized another part of his reasoning. He was going to have a chat with our human friend.

But aloud, he said. "So, you two make your way over the mountains, stick to the forests and away from the roads. Keep as straight a line as you can." Relax, and enjoy the journey. Get your strength back. "Andy and I will see you there in a week or so. Though we'll probably meander round to knock anyone off our scent who may be following, so don't fret if we aren't there when you arrive." And you two also need to talk...

You're probably wondering why Sam doesn't talk to Andy about werebear status. Fact is, protocol dictates that the pack alpha should be the one to make the request, or recommendation, in these matters. In Jess' case, Sam would have popped the question in the usual manner, but it would have been Tobius who formally invited her into the pack, as it was Tobius who had contacted another distant pack with the requests to turn Jess in the first place… all of which never came to pass, sadly. And I got the feeling this was a little of what he had in mind: talking to Sam about Jess.

"So," Tobius murmured a while later. Sam and I handed over our clothes, and watched him fold them neatly, with so much care and attention that my eyes began stinging in the cold wind. "Long journey ahead of you both."

Huh. Small talk. And we were a little grateful for it.

It really was a cold wind, complete with flurries of snow, whipping up into almost blizzard proportions. And in spite of this parting, I confess I was looking forward to the journey. By the shifting of Sam's feet, I have to say he felt the same, though the sad gleam in his eyes told me he'd rather it was under better circumstances.

Who didn't?

It didn't sit right with me, letting my Sire and alpha take off without us, but every time we tried to talk him out of it, Tobius reminded us of all the reasons why it was necessary.

For Sam's sake – he needs to change, get out and hunt.

To keep Sam safe – he can't be around Andy right now.

For Andy's safety – we can't take him out into the wilderness with us. As a human he wouldn't survive the harsh elements. And we can't very well let him go it alone on the road either. Jake caught up to him once and nearly killed him. The next time there won't be any 'nearly' about it.

Plus, Andy needs to be advised of his… options.

There was no getting round it. Sire had made up his mind, and nothing we said or did was going to change it.

Sam changed first and, though his gut wound was virtually healed by now, it must have still been a little sore. He whined softly, padded over to his grandfather and rubbed his large furry body up against him until the guy went down on one knee. Sire buried his nose in Sam's fur, then pressed his mouth to the young wolf's tall, spiky ear and whispered something I couldn't make out. All I heard was Sam's response.

You know I will. I won't let you down.

There's never been a question of that, young pup.

It was none of my business, what was said between grandpa and grandson, but I could guess. No doubt, Sire asked Sam to watch my back.

Then, it was my turn to say goodbye. I know this seems like a lot of drama for just a few days separation, but the last time we thought that, it turned into months. You never can tell what's just round the corner, waiting to ambush your plans at the very last second. All you can do is play your hand, and hope that you've covered every eventuality. Sometimes, even that just aint' enough.

Tobius rubbed a hand over my ears and down my back, ruffling the thick fur gently, then smoothing it down again.

I meant what I said. Make sure you both have a good time out there. Eat well, get plenty of sleep when you can… and try not to worry about us.

Tall order, Father. It's kinda my job to worry about you…

He interrupted with it's all our jobs to be worrying about each other, but when the worry becomes too much it will hinder rather than help. You must learn to know the difference, and how to deal with it before depression develops in its wake.

Believe it or not, I understood exactly what he was saying and knew where he was coming from. This wasn't just about safety, or talks with Andy… this was another one of life's lessons Tobius was determined to impress on us.

I just hoped I could learn fast.

Take your time. There's no rush, Dean. This isn't something that can be learned overnight, Sire whispered knowingly in my head. But practice makes perfect.

Andy gave us both a fierce hug, muttering something about staying safe and bringing back some moose antlers as a souvenir. I listened with wry amusement as Tobius politely informed the boy that this was the wrong county for moose, but conveyed that, perhaps, I could pick up some deer antlers instead.

Andy just laughed, gave us another hug each and stepped back.

Sam sat back on his haunches, awaiting the order, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. Now the idea was firmly implanted, the youngster was eager to get away. I could tell that from the shivering of his body, the quirk of his ears, twitching of his big black nose, and the soft whimpers and growls he just couldn't hold back.

Unable to stay, and at the same time reluctant to leave, he could hear what I also heard. The call of the wild beckoned us both and she's a hard lady to disappoint.

Strangely, Sire didn't seem so affected, but then I guess he's had eight hundred years of learning how to control the need.

Go, my young pups.

That was all we needed to hear.

After a long loud Hollywood howl, as Sam had dubbed it a long time ago, and which had Andy giggling with delight, we sped away into the forests and snowy mountains.

Now it may have surprised you that I was happy to leave my baby behind under the care of Tobius. Well, what can I say? Pranks and jokes aside, I trust the guy to look after her. And besides, Sam's emotional and physical health always comes first. The Impala can be fixed when she goes wrong but, in spite of being a werewolf, Sammy ain't always so easy to put back together.

The change had done him the world of good. His healing gut had barely protested during the transformation, and I silently thanked Andy's skill with Bio Glue and knowledge of English werewolf movies. Without it, Sam might still have been suffering, and the healing would have taken longer.

Being out like this, free of all clothing, camping equipment and such, didn't necessarily mean we'd being eating our meat raw. As I might have once mentioned, Sam's Boy Scout camping skills meant we could light a fire and cook our night's kill if we wanted. And though there was bad storm coming our way, we could easily catch the scent of our prey amongst the trees and snowdrifts.

But there was still some daylight left, and we decided to make the most of it.

Raising my snout and taking a long hard sniff, I narrowed my eyes, let my internal compass settle and pick out the direction we needed, then turned to Sam.

You ready to go home, Sammy?

Blue-green eyes glowed with excitement and the lust for a great outdoors adventure.

Hell yeah!

We climbed snowdrifts, scrambled over hills, clambered up steep ravines, splashed across icy streams and rivers, scared the living crap out of a few ring tails taking shelter in a couple of snow laden sycamores, then passed on through laughing our asses off when they squawked angrily at us. We weren't after racoons. Too easy for the likes of us. We know every trick they can pull and then some.

Hell, maybe Tobius taught their ancestors a thing or two, once upon a time.

A glance over at Sam as we high-pawed it through a snow covered copse nearly made me laugh a out loud.

Ears back, eyes half closed against the wind and snow flakes, jowls flopping up and down with each agile bound, shaggy tail moving to balance him perfectly in mid flight over a fallen log… my heart swelled with pride.

Sam's a fine looking wolf, but that wasn't the reason behind my little moment.

He looked happy, free, in a way I hadn't seen him look before, not even during our visits to Tobius special place – that place where I meditate, 'fish' for and eat cooked trout…

…and we really have to think up a proper name. Can't keep calling it our 'special place'. Sounds like a Godamned sexual connotation, like a euphemism for the multiple orgasm or something.

Oh and by the way? Male werewolves can totally do that. Have and give multiple orgasms… so ya know…

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Now…

"Uh… Dean?" Sam's head shifts and rolls on his pillow. "You wanna try staying on subject? 'Cos you're making me a little uncomfortable here. I mean, I know I can't see you, but I can hear and imagine that smug look on your face… it's a little creepy, not to mention sickening."

Dean grins. "As Tobius said, we don't know whose hands these journals will fall into one day," the eyebrows go for a good hard waggle, and somehow Sam's sigh suggests he knows this is going on. "I mean, it could end up at the playboy mansion or something…"

Sam bites down on his bottom lip, mouth twitching. He's obviously trying not to laugh.

"Yeah, 'cos that's sure likely," Sam murmurs, sarcastically. "Just get on with the entry."

"Spoil sport!" Dean grumbles out his response.

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Then…

We made good time but it became apparent by sundown that Sammy wasn't entirely one hundred percent yet. He was tiring, and the slight limp suggested he was in pain and trying to hide it.

Let's stop for a few hours, huh? We can carry on again in the early hours, Sam.

For once he didn't argue, just hung his head wearily and wuffled his agreement.

C'mon kiddo.

We found a good spot by some fallen trees. It acted like a natural lean-to, offering shelter from the wind and snow. The perfect den for us.

I herded Sam inside and gently pushed at him with my muzzle. Go. Lay down. I'll go hunt us down some food; you just get some rest, huh?

Sam obeyed instantly, head resting heavily on his paws and peered up at me. If you pick up some kindling, I can start a fire. It'll be sheltered enough from the snow, but it shouldn't smoke us out, and we can have cooked meat.

Sam likes raw meat, don't get me wrong, but tonight he obviously felt the need for some hot food. Like a comfort thing, perhaps, 'cos we don't feel the cold so much, in either wolf or human form.

You sure you ain't too tired to change for that, Sammy?

He snorted softly. I can just do a hand and arm change. S'all I need.

I eyed him, carefully. He certainly seemed happy enough, just dog tired – no pun intended – and hungry. And that had to be a good sign.

If you're sure…

I returned a short while later, about twenty minutes judging my Rolex (a gift from Sire. All three of us have one, and we can use the internal homing devices to track each other. They are specially made for us so that the wrist strap will expand and contract with our changes. That way, we never have to remove them – see previous journal entries).

In human form for now, my arms were full of twigs and leaves I'd found whilst nosing around the fallen trees. There was an abundance of kindling just dry enough for our purposes sitting under the dead limbs, so I'd eagerly changed, scooped them up and brought them back to our den for the night.

After a quick check that Sam had everything he needed, I changed and headed out on the night's hunt.

I emerged victorious in the den an hour later, with a mouthful of Snowshoe Hare. In spite of its camouflaging white winter coat and large hind feet for quick getaways, it certainly did not getaway from me. I'd waited, still and quiet, in a thicket of bushes for over thirty minutes for this bastard to hop a little closer, and my patience had paid off. I nabbed him round the neck, one quick squeeze ensured a clean, humane break, and Mr Hare fell limp and ready for chow time.

Sam glanced up from his work. He was twisting a piece of wood between his hands, drilling it downwards into a thin scrap of bark. I was surprised to see him in full human form.

"It felt a little more comfortable," he must have seen the question on my face. "Kinda stretches my gut too much if I'm in both forms at once."

"Just be careful where the sparks fly, Sammy," I smirked. "Werewolf or not, that'll hurt, I promise you."

Sam laughed and shook his head. "Only you, huh, Dean?"

"I am one of a kind," I admitted, unashamedly.

The bark caught, and Sam quickly set about fuelling the spark into a flame. I watched, maybe a little mesmerised, as Sam nurtured the tiny flame, feeding and encouraging it with deft, gentle hands. It made me smile just to watch him, so intent and earnest with his task, well… that's pretty much my Sammy all over. It's that gentle kindness, and fierce devotion to his family that would stand him in good stead, and make him a good… no… great father one day…

"What you smiling at?"

When I looked up, surprised at how far my thoughts had drifted, Sam was watching me, with a small smile of his own.

I considered brushing off his question, or even out right lying, but something in me was dying to answer him with a question of my own.

"Sam, can I ask you something?"

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Sure, you know you can ask me anything."

"You think maybe you and Jess," I watched a little sadly when Sam's body tensed up and his eyes filled with pain. But I pressed on. We needed to have this conversation one way or another, "woulda had kids someday?"

Sam dropped his head and took a breath. "Yeah," he whispered. "I mean, we talked about a someday, sure."

"And?" I prompted, hating myself for this.

"And what?" his head shot up at the same time as he snapped at me. "You wanna know how we talked about raising a pack of our own?" tears glistened in the firelight, sliding down his face. "With you as Grandpa Dean, our pups sitting all round you by the fire and listening to your stories, hanging on every word? And T-Tobius, the p-proud great-grandfather…? Yeah, we talked about it…" Sam's harsh voice softened and dropped to a heartbreaking whisper. "Yeah, we talked about a someday, alright."

Perhaps my instincts were wrong and he wasn't ready for this after all. Seeing the hurt I'd reawakened in him sent guilt pounding through my veins.

I know you're probably sitting there and fuming at me, and I don't blame you, but honestly, I was just trying to help him. Some things need to be talked over, brought out into the open, like lancing a particularly painful boil. But this was gonna take time, which we now had in truck loads.

"Aw, Sammy," I whispered and caught his chin in my hand. "I'm sorry, kid. I didn't mean to hurt you."

He sniffed and another tear rolled down his cheek. "Nah. S'not you. None of what happened is your fault, Dean. I just…" he stifled a small sob "…I can't believe that it can end that way. Ya know? When Tobius told us about his Lady Anna, I was shocked, yeah, but later on I comforted myself with the thought that maybe it wasn't really true love, 'cos surely God wouldn't be that cruel, right?" he shook his head, closing his eyes. "But I was just deluding myself. God is that cruel. He gave me true love, and as soon as I was flying high, he took it away again… took Jess away. Forever."

Shit. He was losing hope and I couldn't allow that to happen. He deserved better.

"No…Sam…" I couldn't let the kid lose his faith in God either. Not like this. Not because of ol' yellow eyes, and surely not because of some piece of shit like Gordon Walker. Grabbing his arms and forcing him to look at me, I dipped my head and gazed into his eyes. "Listen to me. This wasn't down to God, ok? You heard what Tobius said the night he returned to us. Jess got caught in the cross-fire. There was nothing you could have done, anymore than there was for Tobius when Lady Anna was killed. Through no fault of his own he was too far away to stop it, and by the time he finally got there, his daughter – our sister – was dead too. Things just happen, Sammy, and life moves on whether we want it to or not. We can't change the past, but we can look forward."

I stroked the hair at the side of his head. "And I know you don't want to hear this right now, but I'm gonna say it anyway," I drew in a breath and spoke my peace. "You will find love again, Sam. Ok, so she won't be Jess, maybe she won't have the same hair or eye colour, or even the same personality, but she'll be someone equally cool and worthy of you. And Jess wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life in mourning for her."

"I-I d-don't want anyone else…" he stuttered out, eyes wide with something akin to fear.

"I know you don't right now, but you will, kid. You will," I smiled at him. "Now c'mon. Time to feast on the over-sized bunny rabbit, huh?"

Sam managed only a small, sad huff of laughter. But it was a start.

It wasn't quite what I'd had in mind, as the conversation went, but it served its purpose. Sam had really listened, and that meant he realized he still had a future.

Author's Notes:

Many, many thanks to Phx for her wonderful beta work. I don't think I've thanked her enough. All mistakes are mine, however, due to my incessant tinkering.

Now...

Sorry to harp on like an ungrateful bitch, but...

I had been considering a third book to this 'verse, but given the rapidly declining number of reviews on this one, I'm not so sure it'll be worth all the hard work and effort. Sorry guys, but if the current trend continues, then I'll be lucky to scrape ten reviews a chapter by the time I post chapter 20. That's extremely sad, given that it started out with almost 30 reviews a chapter.

It's also a little soul destroying that some of the readers of the first book, who badgered me constantly about the second, promised they'd be on board with it yet I've heard nothing from them. Not a dickybird.

So I'll finish this story purely for the sake of the people who have been kind enough to take the time to leave a review for each chapter, giving me the support and encouragement I so desperately need. There are another 8 chapters already written and beta'd, with a few more planned before the finale, so you won't be left hanging, I promise.

Once again, my sincere apologies go out to those who may feel disappointed, but I just don't think a third book is on the cards.

Kind regards,

ST xxx