Here's chapter three. I hope you're still enjoying it. Thanks for reading.

Humpty Dumpty

Chapter Three

Sam sat on the side of the bed and cast a practiced eye over Dean's thigh with it's ragged improvised dressing. The old towel was soaked with blood where it nestled against his torn flesh as was the leather belt that had fashioned a crude tourniquet. He reached for the edge of the folded towel but paused, looking up into his brother's watchful eyes.

"Need to take a look, Dean. Okay?"

The older man blew out a resigned breath and attempted a smile.

"Yeah, figured as much."

He looked to the other side of the bed, to where Jody hovered, unsure how to be helpful to either of them. It was odd but she felt strangely extraneous in her own home. This all seemed so disconcertingly normal to them and so patently not to her.

"Sheriff?"

Dean dipped his head toward the stack of towels she had earlier delivered.

"Grab a couple of those in case it...ya know...spurts when..."

"Enough!"

Jody grabbed two big bath towels in her hands and moved round to stand beside Sam.

"I get it, don't say any more."

Jody wasn't squeamish by any means but 'spurt' when applied to blood was not a term that sat easy with her stomach. Still practicality won out over distaste.

"Do we need to rest you leg on one?"

Jody was folding the fabric into a think pad as she spoke.

"Good idea."

Sam affirmed as he let go the dressing and got to his feet beside her.

"If I lift your foot, Dean, Jody you can slide it on in."

The sheriff swapped sides with the tall hunter as he uncovered Dean's foot and took hold of his brother's ankle and at the back of his knee.

"Say when, bro."

"Wh..n."

Dean's response was mumbled as his mouth tightened and he grabbed at the belt around his upper thigh as Sam slowly lifted his leg. The sheriff leaned over, sliding the cotton padding underneath quickly and efficiently, allowing Sam to gently lower Dean's leg back down. The whole exercise took only a few seconds but Jody gratefully released the breath she had didn't realize she had been holding, happy with their success.

Unfortunately her happiness was a bit premature she discovered as she looked back up at Dean. His face was as pale as it had been after they had carried him into the room and his hand had fled from his leg to his belly whilst his eyes were squeezed shut. Sam recognized all the familiar signs and cast about the room spotting a small trash can in the far corner.

"Quick, Jody...get the bucket!"

Sam pointed as he moved to grab his nauseous brother as he groaned miserably.

"You gonna puke?"

Sam snatched the bin from Jody and positioned it under Dean's chin putting his other arm around his shoulders, holding him as best he could.

"Ewwhhhh..."

Jody watched on, feeling helpless as Sam crooned words of comfort and after a few minutes Dean's head rolled back to the pillow as the nausea passed. She took the bucket from Sam and he silently motioned for her to keep it nearby as they might need it again.

"All right?"

Sam took the damp wash cloth Jody proffered, wiping gently as his brother's sweaty brow and Dean's eyes slowly opened. He sighed quietly and smiled weakly at the sheriff.

"Sorry, Jody, I got a bit dizzy."

She patted his hand reassuringly where it lay on the covers.

"Don't be silly, you can't help feeling sick."

Dean nodded gratefully, his gaze shifting back to Sam as he sat back on the bed.

"You good to carry on?"

Jody shot Sam a look, part irritated disbelief, part concern.

"Sam, just moving his leg made him throw up, how can you think..."

"Jody..."

Dean's tired voice cut in and she felt his hand on her arm this time.

"Sam's right. it's gotta be done and I'm okay now. I've got it together, really, we're good."

She looked at him in consternation but quickly noted that his resigned expression matched his brother's. Her anger dissipated to be replaced by a sudden sadness for these men and what their life entailed.

"How often do you do this?"

She spread her hands indicating the blood and dressings and medical kit.

"Too often."

Sam smiled softly and Dean mirrored the sentiment as Jody briefly bowed her head in sorrow before coming back up fighting.

"Okay. How do I help? If you're doing this, I'm helping. I can't just sit here."

Her tone was the no nonsense one they had heard from her before and Sam was inwardly pleased she was on board with what needed doing. He took hold of the field dressing on his brother's thigh again.

"I'm gonna see if it'll come free so I can get a good look at what damage the cougar did but it might be stuck to the wound. You could help me ease it loose if it is."

Jody looked at the reddy-brown, crusty fabric that peeked out of the long symmetrical tears in Dean's jean's leg, suspecting 'might be stuck' was an worrying understatement."

"Right, I can do that."

They all knew he response was as much to convince herself as either of the hunters but Sam took it at face value.

"Here goes nothing..."

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The dressing was stuck in more places than it was loose and by the time it was off and discarded beside Dean's filthy boots, they were all sweating with the effort. The wounds to Dean's thigh were neat, parallel tears where the cougar had latched on with it's heavy paw and dragged it's way down, ripping the skin open. They were deep enough to bleed copiously but thankfully not so deep that any major vessels were compromised. All the same they were going to be hell to suture as there was only scant strips of viable skin left between each rent.

Blood had run down from each of them, making Dean's thigh look like a piece of meat on a slab and his jeans were soaked through, denim blue turned throbbing crimson and the towel beneath was similarly red.

"We need to get your jeans off, Dean."

It was just a logical, factual observation on the sheriff's part and for once, Dean took it as such and just nodded absently. Something in that however struck the normally sensible Sam as funny and he sniggered as he glanced from Jody to his brother. Dean raised his eyebrows.

"I have to apologize for my baby brother, Jody. I know he looks like a grown up but sometimes, especially in the presence of women, he reverts to the adolescent geek he truly is."

Dean deadpanned and Jody smiled remembering back to their ability for banter despite the horrific circumstances.

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"Sheriff Mills."

The elder Winchester put his hand to his temple throwing her a mock salute, the cheeky smile on his face just as delightful as Jody remembered it. She smiled in return, the first time she had in a while and raised the latch on the counter ushering the Winchester brothers through from the lobby and towards her office. She closed the door behind them, shutting out her curious colleagues before embracing them both warmly.

"I've missed ya both."

"Us too, Jody."

Sam's returned her hug as tightly as Dean had and as she was engulfed she was reminded how tall the younger man was.

"You shrinking, Sam?"

She laughed as he put her down, Dean snorting as he elbowed his brother.

"It's all the salad he eats, Jody. If he ate burgers like a proper guy he'd be 8 foot by now."

"Haha, you're hysterical, Shorty!"

Sam retorted, flipping Dean the bird as the sheriff laughed at their banter. She indicated them to the chairs before her desk and lifted the coffee jug in silent question to them, pouring mugs of the hot, dark brew as they nodded.

"Here, Sam."

She pushed creamer and sugar across the desk and taking her own mug settled herself into her squeaky old chair.

"So..."

Dean looked at her over the rim of his mug, his face more serious now through the caffeine-rich steam.

"What's going on, Sheriff? Why are we here?"

Jody sighed, huffing out a small breath as she considered their attentive faces. She opened her desk drawer and pushed a buff folder across the desk.

"I don't know exactly what it is, Dean, it's...well strange. But likely your type of strange ."

She let go the file as Sam took it from her. He removed the five or six photos within and spread them on the desk between them.

The photos were of crime scenes and from the dates on them were all taken within the last week or so. They were gruesome, showing bloody victims, ripped and torn by something large and obviously ferocious. The hunter's looked from the photos to each other, Sam raising a quizzical eyebrow as Dean shrugged.

"Animal attacks?"

Jody bobbed her head speculatively.

"Well that's what the P.M says. Cougar...bear maybe..."

Her answer hung in the air, her disbelief evident on her face.

"You don't think so?"

Sam tipped more sugar in his coffee as he spoke and then reached for the creamer.

"You want some coffee with your cream there, Sammy?"

Dean snarked quietly, laughing at the repeat 'bird' he received in answer. Jody smiled indulgently shuffling through the photos and placing one in particular before the hunters.

"Look at the wounds..."

The picture was of a man in his early sixties or thereabouts. He was lying on his side, his legs drawn up into a foetal curl, one arm thrown defensively over his face. Bites were evident all over his exposed back and legs, savage looking wounds with a large bite radius.

"Cougars usually kill by leaping on the back of their prey and snapping it's head back to break it's neck. Bears too often go for the neck, tearing out their prey's throat with their teeth. If this was either it was acting against type."

Dean nodded attentively at the sheriff's National Geographic lesson, his hand unconsciously moving to defend the collar of his t-shirt. Jody picked up another of the photos and handed it to Sam.

"That's Lizzy Pine. She was 17, a varsity cheerleader at the high school."

Sam shared the grizzly photo with his brother. The young woman was sprawled inelegantly on the forest floor, her arms and legs splayed and similarly covered in bites and claw marks.

"Cause of death?"

Dean's voice had lost it's earlier bantering tone and Jody understood his change in mood. These were her people who were dying here.

"Bled out."

She answered tightly.

"They all bled out from large slashing injuries combined with multiple deep bites and claw wounds."

She tapped the first picture Sam and Dean had considered.

"Joseph Brannigan. The tear to his belly was so long and deep that his guts spilled out into his hands as he curled up to die."

Dean's frown deepened but he didn't interrupt. Jody placed Lizzy's photo on top of Joseph's.

"Lizzy was torn open across her back, whatever it was tore so deep that her lungs were exposed between her ribs."

She stopped, her voice calm, but her eyes were haunted by the gory images laid out before her. Sam pushed her coffee toward her and she sat again, warming her suddenly cold hands on the mug.

"Were the others the same?"

Dean looked up at the sheriff, not keen to dwell any longer on the tattered remnants of once happy lives on the desk top. Jody nodded slowly, sipping the coffee.

"Yeah, pretty much. All bitten up and clawed but the thing that killed them all in the end was a savage slash that led to such heavy blood loss they had no chance."

"Did it..."

Sam hesitated, his lip curled with distaste.

"Did it what, Sam?"

His gentle eyes held hers, a silent apology written there for her to see.

"Did it...feed as it killed?"

Jody ran her tongue over her suddenly dry lips, swallowing bile down urgently before answering.

"No, there wasn't a great deal of tissue loss. It didn't kill them 'cause it was hungry, Sam...it...it's like it killed for pleasure."

She looked back at the pensive hunters seeing her own disgust for this creature on their faces.

"So not just an opportunistic attack then?"

Dean mused and she shook her head.

"Not to my way of thinking. You ever hear of bear or cougar killing just for pleasure?"

Both hunters shook their heads silently.

"The other thing is these were all people from round here, Dean. Locals. They knew how to behave around wild animals. Hell, Joseph had been hunting these hills since he was a boy and Lizzie, she was just diving through the park on her way to her waitressing job. God, know''s why she even stopped the car, let alone got out. There my people and something is goddamn ripping them apart for fun!"

She stopped, rubbing at her pounding head, aware her voice was getting louder and more strident as the frustration and horror of the last few days kicked in. She looked back at Dean, comforted to see understanding in his deep, green eyes. She smiled wanly, glancing at Sam too.

"Sorry. I'm not mad at you. It's just..."

She stopped and De dismissed it with a sweep of his hand.

"No need, Jody. We understand. So why d'you call Sam and me? What do you think this thing is?"

She shrugged tiredly.

"Honestly? I've no idea, but the whole situation just feels...wrong and I suspect it's your sort of wrong. Nothing adds up but six people in two weeks? It's not right, not normal. Something bad is happening here boys and I don't know what to do. I need some help to work out how we stop whatever it is. I can't stand by another grave and watch my neighbors bury their kin."

She rubbed at her temple, needing the ache that had lodged itself there and would not budge.

"Was there anything else that seemed strange, out of place?"

Sam finished his coffee, wiping the milky foam from his lip as he spoke. Jodi thought for a moment and then pulled another buff folder from her drawer rifling through the papers within it.

"Here..."

She found the report she was looking for.

"This might be something. When I read it I thought it was odd."

She scanned the page as Dean and Sam sat patiently.

"It's from the lab work taken from the victims...the coroner took swabs of the wounds and he found traces of...solanum dulcamara and something called hyoscyamus niger. I looked them up and they're plants..."

"Nightshades...they're both nightshades."

Dean finished the sentence his voice soft, surprised as both Sam and Jody looked at him quizzically.

"Bittersweet and the delightfully named stinking nightshade, if I remember rightly."

Jody glanced down at the toxicology report before looking back up at the elder Winchester nodding appreciatively.

"Spot on, Dean. The coroner concurs, bittersweet and stinking nightshade. I'm impressed."

Sam snorted, his stare intense as he looked to his sibling.

"Dude...how the hell do you know that?"

Dean squirmed a little under the scrutiny of both his companions.

"Umm...Dad and I hit New Orleans one time and there was this Creole girl, Serafine."

Dean smiled distantly, his memories distracting enough to widen his pupils and blush his cheeks pink. Jody grinned, her hand covering her mouth to prevent her laughter.

Sam's eyes widened but he stayed silent leaving Dean to babble into the silence as he realized he was the centre of attention.

"What? She knew plant lore, herbs and stuff..."

"Dean, you can't tell one plant from another unless you can eat it as a burger garnish and she taught you to recognize obscure nightshades from their Latin taxonomy?"

Dean grinned sheepishly.

"She was a good teacher, Sammy..."

"Enough, Dean. Save our blushes okay?"

Jody laughed as Sam exhaled in exasperation.

"So what are these plants used for then, Liberty Hyde Bailey Jnr!"

Dean wrinkled his nose, Sam's reference sliding right by him.

"Umm...I don't remember all the details, well not of the plant stuff..."

Dean smirked and Jody shook her head in mock disapproval, stifling the smile that tugged at her lips as Sam tutted.

"Dean!"

"Okay, don't get ya panties in a bunch, Tiger. Binding spells I'd say. I remember something about nightshades being used to bind a creature to the spell caster."

Sam nodded, tapping at the photos on the desk before them absently as he processed the information.

"So we maybe have a witch or warlock that's used herb lore to bind an animal to it's will?"

The three of them contemplated for a moment or two before the sheriff spoke.

"But why? And who?"

Sam shrugged.

"No idea. Guess we need to work on that."

Jody sighed.

"And when we find out?"

She looked from hunter to hunter, desperate for an end to her nightmare. Dean answered.

"Then we gank us a witch, Sheriff."

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"Okay, Dean."

Jody stretched over and undid the fasteners on his jeans in a businesslike fashion.

"Speedy..."

Dean noted appreciatively and the sheriff winked at him.

"Not my first go at it, Dean. Now can you lift your hips off the covers so I can pull 'em off?"

"I'll try..."

Dean offered, shifting round to brace his good leg against the bed and tried but he only managed an inch or so before flopping back, hissing in pain.

"Hang on..."

She leaned over and wrapped her arms tightly around his slim waist, her cheek resting on his belly.

"Sam?"

The younger man answered from his position of amused voyeur at the bedside.

"Umm?"

"When I lift Dean's hips, can you please take his pant's off for me?"

The sentence carried not a hint of innuendo and Sam bit back his inappropriate urge to laugh as he moved to the foot of the bed.

"Here we go, Dean..."

Jody grunted with the effort as she closed her arms about him and pulled him close to her chest.

"Thrust your hips up."

Dean did as she bid, all the while looking sternly at Sam, who tugged ineffectually at his brother's pant legs.

"Stop, Jody, stop!"

Dean wriggled in Jody's grasp and she released him immediately lowering him quickly back to the bed, afraid she had hurt him.

"You okay?"

He nodded running his hand back down to his thigh.

"The belt, you'll have to take the belt off."

Jody looked back at the brown leather belt, looped round Dean's upper leg. It was so bloodied that it blended in with the remains of his jeans and she had totally forgotten it was there.

"Jeeze, Jody..."

She admonished herself as she laid her hand on the soggy leather, grasping the trailing end of the belt.

"Wait!"

Sam's big hand covered hers and clamped her fingers still.

"If you loosen it it might increase the bleeding."

Jody let go the strap and Sam released her hand.

"Good point."

She looked at Dean and he nodded in agreement. She reached over to the nightstand and retrieved the scissors she had used on Dean's boot laces earlier.

"I guess we cut them off then."

Sam nodded this time but his elder brother groaned.

"No! Really?"

They both looked at him quizzically.

'It's just these're my best pair."

Dean pouted.

"You actually have others that are worse than these?"

Jody stared down at the jeans. Even where they weren't shredded and soaked with blood they were worn into holes and stained. She looked incredulously at him.

"Dean, I hate to tell you but they're never gonna pass for best anymore. They're ruined."

Dean craned his neck forward, casting an eye down his long legs, assessing the damage and finally sighing.

"I guess you're right. Okay, go for it then, cut them."

Jody took the scissors and put the blades to the remnants of denim just below the encircling belt.

"Sam, lift his leg again."

Sam obliged and carefully Jody cut the leg off Dean's Sunday-best pants.

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Jody pulled open the pre-packed suture kit and dropped it's contents onto the clean towel on the bed beside their patient as Sam tied off the another stitch and lowered the spent needle he had been using. He stretched, straightening from his position bent over his brother's torn leg, and although he said nothing Jody fancied she could hear his spine popping as he uncoiled. She caught his eye, her sympathetic gaze saying 'are you alright?'. He looked tired, his brow creased from concentrating on his 'needlework' and he smiled his affirmation, before looking up at Dean. Jody followed his gaze.

Dean was still propped against the stack of pillows and although he was slightly pale, he had more colour than when they had carried him in from the truck. His eyes were closed, his head tilted back so the top pillow cradled his neck, his mouth a little tight but not terribly drawn.

Jody was surprised how relatively well Dean looked. Sam had, over the last 30 minutes or so, positioned 27 sutures in the worst two of the rents the cougar had torn in his brother's thigh. There had been no local anaesthetic to numb the wounds which she had found astonishing. When she queried why if they had sterile suture kits they didn't have pain shots too, Dean had simply explained that whilst bandages etc were relatively easy to 'acquire', controlled drugs were more difficult so they had learned to live without.

He'd fallen quiet soon after that, closing his eyes and just uh-huh-ing occasionally when Sam had checked he was okay. She had watched as again his lips had moved in silent litany to his pain as the cruel needle had pierced his ravaged flesh. She found herself impressed at his stoicism but saddened that it was required.

"How we doing, Sam? You doing a neat job?"

Dean's eyes opened slowly, like the movement was an effort and Jody noted the dilation of his pupils. Sam smiled reassuringly as he answered.

"Take a look for yaself..."

Sam shifted his gaze from his brother's face down to the mended tears and Dean's sleepy eyes followed. He studied the sutures briefly before speaking.

"Nice job, Sam. Neat."

Dean shifted his leg carefully, bending his knee just a little to test the stitches.

"Do they pull too much?"

Sam rested his hand on his brother's shin, ensuring Dean didn't move his leg too violently.

"Nah, they're good."

Sam smiled contentedly.

"What about the rest?"

Dean slightly inwardly rotated his leg, exposing the smaller wound on the outer side of his thigh. It was still open and slowly oozing blood. Sam bent his head and looked appraised the gash.

"I think maybe two stitches at the top there..."

He pointed with his gloved finger and Jody leaned closer to look, interested despite the blood.

"And then I can probably close the rest with butter-fly strips."

"Will they stick? It isn't too...wet?"

Jody looked up at Sam, her lip slightly curled and the hunter nodded.

"Think so, so long as I pull the edges together as they go on and they hurt less...go on quicker..."

On the bed Dean's concentration on the conversation about his mangled thigh began to waver, fascinating though it was. In truth he was glad for it as it created a break from the relentless stab and sting the suturing brought but if he was honest all he really wanted to do was sleep. He shifted very slightly against his pillows, looking to cushion his head a bit more, thinking he might close his eyes for a moment.

The movement, small as it was proved to be a mistake as it awoke his vaguely quiescent shoulder and arm and a sharp gasp of pain slipped out his tight lips before he could stifle it.

Chapter ends.