Oh the werewolf, oh the werewolf
Comes stepping along
He don't even break the branches where he's gone
Once I saw him in the moonlight, when the bats were a flying
I saw the werewolf, and the werewolf was crying
Cryin' nobody knows, nobody knows, body knows
How I loved the man, as I teared off his clothes
Cryin' nobody know, nobody knows my pain
When I see that it's risen; that fool moon again
- Werewolf by Cat Power
Doing the morningly marathon run to the bathroom, it occurred to Zoe that though this didn't appear to be what she had planned to do with her life, it was what she had always wanted, if slightly altered.
She had wanted a husband, and had gotten a fiery lover.
She had wanted a family, and got herself a werewolf baby growing inside of her.
She had wanted salvation, and she'd gotten damnation.
"Zoe, are you okay in there?"
She had wanted a docile, boring life, and gotten a satisfying, exciting existence. And perhaps a more loyal partner than Marc would ever have been…
"Define okay. If that definition includes 'puking my guts out', then yes, I'm doing okay," Zoe replied dryly, flushed, and brushed her teeth before she opened the door to face the father of her baby. She plastered on a weak, but honest smile and got herself her good-morning kiss.
"I'm sorry, Zo," Sam brushed his thumb over the porcelain skin of her cheek, though he wasn't too sure he meant it. He hadn't done many things in life he was proud of, and seeing Zoe grow round with his child was one of the rare things that did make him proud.
"No, you're not," she smiled, proving that she was his perfect match in more ways than just nature's whim, "And I wouldn't want you to be, if you were."
"Good to know, for future reference," Sam cupped her face between his large hands gently and kissed her soft plush lips.
Future.
Would they even have one?
"Alright, I take it back," Lola said dryly, head swimming, "I do not want to know the truth."
"You asked, princess," Dean smiled humourlessly, "Now, if you're going to pass out, I'd much rather you do it now, it'll spare us inconvenience later on."
"Do I look like some fragile brat to you? I am not going to pass out, damnit, just need a second to breathe! Hell, you just told me monsters are real and that my best friend most likely is one!" Lola took a deep breath. She realized this was one of those moments in life when you had to be calm or you ended up six feet under soon after; so she bit her tongue to keep from throwing a fit, and slowly said: "Is there a cure?"
"None that I know of," saying it out loud made Dean realize there really might only be one option left, one he could never pull through with, "And I've looked everywhere."
"Well, there has to be," Lola insisted. In a way, Dean admired her; she had no clue of this life and still believed she did. It needed some serious healthy self-confidence for that, along with a general belief that life would turn out sunny-side up eventually. Dean had been the 'scrambled eggs' type for a long time… when was the last time he'd even felt optimism?
"Look, sweetheart, this is not just a simple disease that can be cured with a good dose of antibiotics, alright? It changes your damn physiology and you're a monster forever."
"To every problem, there's a solution. What, you believe that bad, paranormal crap happens but that this world isn't cuckoo enough to turn it back good? Come on. If there's a way to turn a human werewolf, then there's a way to turn a werewolf human."
Dean looked at her and the determination in her brown eyes; did she maybe have a point?
She chuckled uneasily, "Wow, I can't believe I'm saying this and actually believe it. Strange world. So, are you sure you've checked every last possibility?"
"There is a contact or two I haven't called yet…" Dean started slowly, refusing to hope in vain, and checked the magazine of his gun. "I need to know, though: Could you pull the trigger on her when it came down to it?"
"What? No!"
"Good."
Zoe stretched comfortably and turned around, expecting to feel Sam's soothing presence beside her. Finding the bed empty, she jolted up, wide awake and flipped on the bedside lamp, panic and unease rising in her throat, assembling to form a cry of fear.
As a werewolf, she was far from helpless - technically. Practically, however, seemed to look a little different… The full moon outside was shining brightly, and yet she hadn't felt it rising in her blood.
Zoe,
I'm out hunting. I didn't want to wake you, you were asleep so peacefully, and I know you need it.
I'll be back soon and take care of you and our baby, promise.
Sam
Zoe's lips rose in a faint smile, before she remembered why was alone in bed in the first place: It was full moon, Sam was gone – and so should she be. 'Well, darling, seems like you cured me from my insomnia on full moon nights,' Zoe carefully ran a hand over her belly. Their baby was starting to show, and if Zoe hadn't missed the sex-ed classes, she would have remembered it was too soon; for a human baby, anyways.
On the upside of being drained of her werewolf energy was that she didn't feel the burning thirst for blood scratching away at her. However, that didn't quench her hunger for Sam.
Considering she was already pregnant, it was rather safe to guess that 'basic primal instinct' was out as an explanation. Leaving what?
"You want to know something dramatic?" Lola pressed her naked body against Dean's.
"What, more dramatic than Sam and Zoe being werewolves?"
"Mhm, in a way," she mumbled and nuzzled her nose in the crook of his neck. "I've broken my rule number one."
"That rule being?"
"Never sleep with the same guy twice unless you're dating him."
"Unless he's worth it," Dean smirked, running his hand through Lola's long hair. Not that he'd say they were serious, but damn content together, that they were; and it was by far more than he'd ever expected to have again.
"So, I was wondering," Lola rolled onto her stomach, propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him in the weak light of the bedside lamp that they had forgotten to extinguish in the heat of the moment. "Since we both agree that we will never pull the trigger on Zo and Sam… how do we catch them and keep them down until we've found a cure?"
We… Dean sighed. Not that Lola would be that great of a help, considering her rookiness, but fact remained, he didn't feel so horribly alone in this anymore.
"Silver bullet to the heart kills a werewolf, but if you shoot him anywhere else, he'll just be weakened, enough to overpower him."
"So in the end, we do pull the trigger, we just need to aim right."
"Pretty much."
"So much for that part; how we're going to find them?"
"I hate to say this, but: Follow the trail of victims."
Lola didn't reply, and when Dean looked at her, he realized it wasn't because she was about to have a nervous breakdown. "What is it?" he demanded.
"It's just… how human do werewolves remain when they transform?"
Dean frowned, not liking when he didn't know where a conversation was headed. "Not at all, as far as I know."
"Okay, but say that Zo and Sam can somewhat control it. I mean, Sam must have been turned months ago, but he didn't turn Zoe until last month, though he sure had opportunity to."
Dean straightened up, feeling how the first messengers of age and an unhealthy lifestyle crept into his bones. "So your point is that you think they can control it. That they don't have to kill, even when they change."
"I'm just putting theories out there, you're the expert. So you tell me."
"Honestly, I can't. Because at this point, if anyone suggested that werewolves could be vegetarians, I would believe them in an instant."
"Because you want to believe it," Lola stated softly, then added a little louder: "Well, tough, Dean, we can't bend reality the way we like it, we have to make do with what we have. And at this point, it's one incident of bloody murders, not more. So let's just say Zo and Sam went a little crazy, out of the spur of the moment of Lord knows what, but normally, they're the sweet, self-controlling people we know them as. So no more deaths on their head, because…" Lola waved her hands around, "Geez, I don't know, they take their hunger out on each other."
"Okay, wrong images in my mind now, thanks."
"Wouldn't have happened if your mind wasn't living so close to the gutter," Lola snapped sweetly. "Back to business."
Dean sighed. "Yes, maybe, it's possible. Either way, to be quite honest, a body count is only my second concern. We need to find a cure."
"Hey, Zoe," Sam approached her from behind, leaned down and kissed her neck tenderly. Zoe made an effort to rise, but he gently pushed her down again; he wanted to spare her as much strain as possible. Standing up at six months pregnant struck him as straining, especially considering that werewolves only were pregnant for six months. Not that Zoe or Sam knew that part yet.
Sam ran a hand over Zoe's belly, where his child was growing inside of her. Whether the proud father instincts came from his werewolf or human self, Sam couldn't quite say, and he didn't exclude the possibility they came from both. "What are you doing?"
"Decided to let my mother know that despite her efforts of praying for a lightning to strike and kill her wayward daughter, I'm still alive and don't regret anything I've done." Zoe's hand rested on top of Sam's, and if one didn't know better, one could assume they were just like any other family. The tiny difference being that the baby was a werewolf, like his parents, who were hiding from hunters out on their heads, and whether Mommy and Daddy loved each other wasn't to be said for sure, either.
To those people who only care about appearances, though – so that would be an estimated 90% of the population – this scene looked perfectly normal.
Sam looked at the letter in front of Zoe. "May I?"
"Certainly," Zoe shrugged; it wasn't like she had anything to hide, not from Sam, anyways.
"Dear Mom, if you even still deserve being called that,
Just wanted to tell you that I'm still alive, even though I'm sure you'd be happy to hear different. I'm unmarried and pregnant, and living in sin with my lover, and loving it.
Zoe."
Sam kept his eyes on the paper for a minute, as if he waited for more text to show.
"And?"
"I like it. Straight and to the point. Emitting any unnecessary poignancy really adds to the unique bond of mother and daughter speaking from those lines."
Zoe laughed, "Yeah, yeah, professor, thanks for the literature lesson. Any improvement suggestions?"
"You could add that you've become Canadian. Add insult to injury?"
"Stop making me laugh, it makes the baby kick," Zoe chuckled and pressed a hand to her belly.
"I love seeing you laugh, and I love feeling our baby kick," Sam kissed her cheek.
"Fine, then how about this: Stop making me laugh or I may start developing unhealthy romantic feelings for you."
"We wouldn't want that?"
"You tell me."
Sam looked at her with an unfathomable message in his hazel eyes. Zoe had learned that the code necessary to decipher those messages was lost in translation. "Maybe some other time."
Truth was that Sam wasn't sure if he loved Zoe, and neither if it would be an improvement or not if he did. He cared about her greatly, and he'd do anything to keep her safe, and she would be the mother of his children; but was that the same as loving her?
"Well, regardless of whether love enters the room here or not: Is there any ice cream left?"
"Just stocked up on it yesterday."
"Now that," Zoe carefully rose, "is definitely a step in the romantic direction, my hero." She smiled and kissed him lightly, wondering if there would ever be more between them.
Then again, what they had was more than many 'normal' couples had. That meaning an amazing sex-life, undoubted loyalty, trust and having more in common than two people could have. Such as a hearty diet, pardon the pun.
Most importantly, they were a family, whether romantic love was involved or not.
Thank you all for sticking with me, I know I haven't been a busy bee updater lately (there are reasons for that, but I won't make excuses, so let's just leave it at that). But you guys are truly awesome, thank you so much! =) Not a lot of action in this chapter, I know, but even Sam and Zoe deserve a break. ;) More 'plot' going down next time.
Lots of love
xoxo
For the werewolf, for the werewolf has sympathy
For the werewolf, somebody like you and me.
And only he goes to me, man this little flute I play
All through the night, until the light of day, and we are doomed to play
For the werewolf, for the werewolf, has sympathy
For the werewolf, somebody like you and me
-Werewolf by Cat Power
