Every one is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.

Mark Twain


"You okay?"

"Not really. I'm still debating on how many shades of crazy I am." Zoe looked at what little luggage she had packed, barely holding back hysterical giggles.

"I'm so sorry for dragging you into this, Zo…"

"No," she shook her head bravely, "I'm okay. Really."

"You don't have to lie to me."

"I'm not lying, just stretching the truth," she said and heaved her suitcase into the trunk of her car. It was a sad proof of how little she had lived over the past years that it didn't take much convincing to leave it all behind, and more importantly, that the essentials and meaningful belongings could be packed into one bag. "You do realize, Sam, that if we do hit the road together, there's not really a way back? I mean, we'll be stuck together and what if it doesn't work out?"

"It will. And even if it doesn't, I still have to keep you safe. We don't need to be on speaking terms for that," he shot her a tentative smile.

"It sounds kind of ironic that I need protection now, when I'm technically the predator."

"Did I already tell you that you take this amazingly? Which is actually kind of creepy?" Sam remarked as he got in behind the wheel, Zoe beside him on the passenger's seat.

"Well, I figured if fate, or whatever the heck you want to call it, decided to bless me with a natural allure to werewolves, it had a reason in doing so. I mean, others are meant to become president, or star athletes, or singers – I pulled the 'werewolf mate' card. The plus side: I certainly do have the nicest fangs of all. And I only harm heartless people. Alright, bad joke."

"Is it possible that you talk when you're nervous?"

"How'd you guess?"

"Just a feeling."

"Suppose I can officially write down 'sensitive' on the list of your character traits."

"You keep a list?" Sam huffed; apparently, Zoe was a lot more fun to be around than he believed at first.

"Nope, I keep two. The day list and the night list, alternatively called the werewolf and the human list."

"And I suppose my lesson of today about you is that your reaction to distressing situations is morbid humour."

"Hey, if you can't bust out the gallows jokes then, when else?"


"Oh, yeah, I have seen him around," the pretty girl grinned, "But sadly not enough. Zoe keeps him all to herself, which I think is rather selfish for a Christian, but I guess that after what happened on her intended wedding day, I shouldn't be surprised."

Whoever she was, Dean thought, she liked to talk. The better for him.

"So, why are you looking for him?" Her pouty lips closed around the straw of her drink, which Dean supposed was one of these over-priced, strange mutilations of simple coffee. In other words, it was a Sammy drink.

"He's my brother, and I haven't heard from him in a while, so I was just wondering where he was," Dean replied, and more worry rang through in those words than he'd ever intended to show.

The girl's eyebrows shot up, and Dean recognized the interest in her eyes; it was the same he showed any time a pretty girl walked by. "You're Sam's brother?"

"I take it you've heard from me?"

"Oh, not nearly enough, it seems. Zoe did neglect to mention that good looks apparently indeed run in the family," she smiled winningly, and Dean had to admit that she had won him over. Yes, that easily. She was, on top of being very pretty, his only lead to Sam, and Dean thought he might as well take her out and get the necessary information out of her.

"Dean."

She took his extended hand. "Lola."


Zoe fell asleep just after they've crossed the Canadian border.

Sam resisted the temptation to push the slipped strap of her top back on her shoulder. To do that, he would have to touch her warm, smooth skin, and he didn't trust himself with that; not yet and maybe not ever again. He'd already proved how disastrous his self-control was around her and what bloody messes it led to.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a nagging voice asked him if this werewolfism really was so bad. What was it that he had always wanted? Not hunting anymore, a girl, a family and not moving around any longer. What was he about to get due to him being werewolf now? An end of his hunting days (in the terms of monster hunt; as to people hunt, Sam wasn't ready to bet his money on that yet.), a great girl/mate, possibly a child/cub soon and a steady place to live in.

If you ignored the small print, the current situation came closest to the fulfillment of his dreams. Dreams he thought he'd given up on – until the point when Zoe said she'd like to know him, both sides of him. It brought back all those feelings and hopes he thought he'd had killed inside over the years, and left him with yet another monster to fight within. The monster that told him it was okay to enjoy this, that he should stop searching for faults so feverishly.

Whether he'd embrace his monstrosity or not, fact remained he would have to tell Dean. His brother deserved better than to be left in the dark as to why Sam had, once again, taken off, this time for good and without further notice or explanation. Sam vowed to himself to let Dean know as soon as Zoe and he got settled in – wherever that would be.

"We in Oz yet?"

Sam smiled, ripped from his reverie by Zoe's sleepy voice. "No, might need to clack your heels again."

"Nah, you do that to get back home. Though, really, Kansas? Not my first choice."

"Used to be mine. Somewhat."

"What do you mean?" Zoe attempted smoothing her hair, but neglected that task to look at Sam with her soulful, still innocent looking, eyes.

"Nothing."

"Want to try that again?"

"My home town, or the town most closely resembling a home town, anyways, is in Kansas. Stull Cemetery, the place I sort of died in, too."

"Oh. Right," Zoe said quietly, "Does saying stuff like 'The place I died in' even sound weird to you anymore?"

"Not really, no."

"Alright, I know that you've told me everything and all, but could we still set up a tiny rule?"

"What's that?"

"Sugarcoat this stuff for me, please? At least until I'm sort of used to it?"

Sam chuckled, thoughtlessly reached for Zoe's hand and kissed its back. "Very well. Any more rules?"

"Not so far, no. Well, apart from the obvious: Let's try not to eat humans when we turn all beasty." Zoe sighed and ran a hand over her face, "Man, this is messed up."

"Couldn't have summed it up any better. You hungry?"

"What's on the menu?"

"Well, since the sun's up and us being on the no-human diet: Greasy diner food."

"Great, I'm starving for some carbs and transfats."


"You know, Sam, we only ever talked about how I feel about this," Zoe started as she inspected the cozy little house. "Are you really okay with giving up what little steadiness you had in your life and move in with a girl you barely know?"

"I wasn't aware that I only barely knew you."

"You know what I mean."

Sam sighed and took Zoe's face inbetween his hands. "Zoe, you are in this mess because of me, and I'm going to do anything to keep you safe. From now on, anyways."

Zoe actually found it in her to chuckle. "Well, not like it can really get any worse."

"You don't want me answering that."

"I didn't technically ask." Zoe kissed him lightly; them being together when not at least one was a transformed werewolf was new and challenging, but also thrilling. They'd make it work somehow, Zoe hoped.

"Honestly, Zoe, having a steady, if very reclusive home, and living with a sweet, pretty girl doesn't really strike me as a punishment."

"Reclusive is a flattering term, this cabin's in the freaking middle of nowhere for one, and two, what if this sweet girl turns wild and horny on some nights?"

"That would be when the punishment settles in," Sam teased. It struck him as highly unsuitable that he allowed himself to feel some peace at this moment – because if he was honest to himself, the current situation seriously sucked. He was a monster best killed, had turned an innocent girl into a monster, destroying her life, he had killed people, had left, hurt and betrayed his brother – again – and had to keep himself and Zoe alive, which meant hidden from hunters.

Even though his life surely wasn't champagne and caviar right now, Sam found that water and bread tasted just as good.


"So when's the last time you've seen either of them around?"

Lola tapped her well-manicured nails on the table as she thought that over. "Well, Sam, I've only ever really seen when he asked questions about Zoe, then again some weeks later, at her nearly-wedding."

"That she ruined by banging my brother?" Dean hadn't believed it when Lola first told him about that, and he wasn't quite buying it yet, either. Sam, meddling with a woman's engagement and eventually destroying her wedding? Please. Dean, sure, that would be something not to be put past him, but Sammy?

This was wrong in so many ways.

"Yup. If you ask me, Zoe needed it. Damn, that girl used to have a stick up her ass, if you excuse my French, and now she's actually fun to be around. Anyways, back to your question: Last time I saw Zoe was one week ago. It's strange for her not to show up for class, but it's happened more and more over the past months, so I didn't really worry until you showed up. Think they burnt through together?" Lola didn't add that she actually found that prospect quite romantic.

Dean wasn't sure whether to hope for that or not. If Sam indeed was a werewolf, which was getting more likely by the minute, then Dean halfway wished he'd never find him. On the other hand, better him than another hunter.

As for the people getting killed in the process, they were, for once, only Dean's second concern.

"Maybe," he finally answered. "If they did, where would Zoe go?"

"You got me," Lola shrugged, "She grew up here, never went on vacation other than to Canada once in her life, her whole family's here, her friends…"

"So basically, they could be anywhere."

Lola arched an eyebrow, "You and Sam spent your lives on the road?"

"Yeah, how'd you guess?"

"Well, you asked for Zoe's places to go, and since she doesn't have any, the next step would be checking Sam's, but judging from your suspicion they could be anywhere, I take it Sam and you don't have a fixed place to go in times of trouble. So it's only logical to assume you don't have a steady home, and considering your car's got an impossible mileage, I take it you're driving around. That in turn does make a life on the road very plausible."

Dean frowned, wondering if that girl ever pulled a full stop, "You like to talk, don't you?"

"Greatly." Lola nodded and took a hearty bite out of her burger. "Only way to shut me up is to feed me, really, or alternatively plaster tape over my mouth, though I really much rather had you didn't."

Dean huffed. Under normal circumstances, he'd have found this type of girl annoying, superficial; but Lola seemed smart and quick-witted, and he sensed a caring girl under the happy-go-lucky charm of hers.

"Did you try tracking Sam's cell phone?"

"Yeah, lead me here."

"And Zoe's?"

Dean paused. That thought hadn't even occurred to him. Lola wiped her hands clean and determinedly said: "I'd say you and me get out of here, back to my place and track Z down. I'll bet you that wherever she is, Sam will be, too."