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Of Werewolves And Humans

Chapter 6 ~ Warming Up

THEN:

Tomorrow would be a new day with new tasks. Trying to get the human into the bathtub and walk around a little bit more. Maybe trying to get him used to Bobby and John at some point.

NOW:

It was in the middle of the night when he woke to an agonized cry that promised pain and despair. Wasn't he supposed to sense any kind of danger? Wasn't he supposed to know what would happen before it actually did?

A growl and rumble followed and Dean sat up, his wolf-eyes taking in the surroundings. His nostrils flaring as he tried to scent whatever threat was around.

Another bone-shattering cry and he knew that there wasn't any threat at all. - At least nothing palpable. The only threat that was there was Sam as he actually seemed to be a threat to himself. Tossing and throwing around, until he lay still for a couple of moments, whimpering gut-twisting and heart-shattering.

Dean got on his knees – not exactly knowing what to do … like always when it came to humans. But this was HIS human. He had to know what to do, had to sense what his mate needed right there.

At least he had to prevent him from hurting himself somehow. Had to get him to calm down – at least a bit.

„Sam?", he asked hoarsely, his senses dazed from sleepiness.

The man's face was screwed up in pain and distress and he wouldn't respond to him.

Dean bowed down over him, his hands to the left and right side of the human's head, pressing into the pillow.

„Wake up, Sam.", he muttered half asleep. „It's okay." He laid a hand on Sam's head and brushed gently with his thump over his cheekbone. „It's just a dream. - Just a dream."

But he wouldn't listen. Instead his body arched up with another agonized yell. He was begging for mercy, for forgiveness of whatever he must've done wrong. Sam nearly threw the other male off of him in the process of fighting his invisible foe.

„Damn it.", Dean hissed as he caught his balance again.

He straddled the human under him, pinning him into the soft mattress with his body, catching his limbs forcefully. He lowered his head, until his lips were close to Sam's ear – nearly touching, shushing him, telling him that it was alright, that there was nothing he had to be afraid of anymore (though Dean wasn't completely sure of THAT yet, because something told him that it wasn't quite over).

The door to their bedroom opened slowly and a sleepy John lurked inside.

„It's okay dad. - Go back to sleep.", Dean said, without turning around. „I got this."

The older Winchester brushed over his face with a hand and yawned. „You sure, Dean?"

„Yeah. - We're okay.", Dean muttered, resting his forehead on the pillow beside Sam's head. „We're okay.", he tried to reassure himself calmly.

Finally the murmurs subsided and the body beneath him went limp. The human was panting heavily, his clothes soaked in sweat, muscles hard, as his eyes snapped open.

Sam felt the heavy weight of another body, pressing him gently into the mattress. Legs and arms straddled – and oh god … his ribs hurt as hell.

„I'm sorry.", he choked out, „I'm sorry, sir."

„It's okay." Dean whispered huskily, wrapping his arms around the man and turning the both of them carefully to the side. He let the human enough space and kept his hold light, so that Sam could decide, wherever to stay or to get away from him. But against Dean's supposition he stayed. Sam let himself being held by the wolf, let himself being tugged closer. He eventually nestled into Dean's body, keeping his arms and hands between them.

A small smile tugged on Dean's lips as Sam's breaths started to even out again and the human nestled into his chest, shifting and moving until he seemed to be comfortable enough. Sam just let his mind yell at him for being stupid to do so. He let more space in his head and heart for the tiny voice that tried to tell him that it was okay. That he was allowed to feel save and that he was allowed to take the offered comfort without questioning it.

He ignored the doubts that were nagging at him in the back of his mind. Because this felt good. This felt real. And because he started to get comfortable with the man around him. Because he hadn't even once rose his voice against him, nor had he tried and punch or kick him – even when he was a slouch.

These thoughts let him fall back into a grateful slumber, followed by Dean Winchester drifting off to sleep again too.

The next morning came way too fast for the younger Winchester.

The air in the room was chilly. Even when he didn't care, the human would. He'd be freezing. So he untangled his arms and slipped out of the bed, throwing another blanket over the sleeping male, before he left.

His father and Bobby seemed to be still asleep. Besides, it wasn't that late anyway. Just half past seven in the morning. So he sniffed on himself and grimaced disgusted. He stunk. Dean sniffed again, his gut twisting at the smell of cold sweat.

Yeah he'd take a shower. - But first he had to get the fireplace going, so it would be warm and comfortable later, when he'd try to get Sam into the bathtub. Dean got logs from the porch and picked up one of the old newspapers from a tray beside the door. Then he made fire and made sure it burned well, before he went back into the bedroom. Silently and carefully not to wake the human before he was done with himself.

He slipped out of the room with a fresh set of clothes, leaving the door wide open so that the warmth would crawl into the other room too.

Dean stood under the spray of hot water. The comfortable warmth crawling into his skin, as he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair – thinking. Thinking if every night would be that way from now on, or if Sam's nightmares would go away at some point. Maybe if the human felt truly save some day – maybe then he'd stop having them.

When he was done he noticed that Bobby was awake already. He was camping on the couch since the Winchesters just had two bedrooms. Actually – Dean should've moved out already to leave more space to his father. He wanted to build up his own life, with an own cabin close to his father's. They would still be a pack, just not living in each other's pockets. Besides, his father seemed to do way better. There haven't been any days in the past month, where he hadn't been able to get out of bed by himself.

As weird as it may sounded. Ever since this damn car had hit him in the middle of the night, leaving a half-dead werewolf on the side of the road, he had been in pain. That was now one year ago and John had improved very well.

Sure werewolves had incredible self-healing-abilities. But even a werewolf wasn't unbreakable and even a werewolf was able to get injured – not just by a silver bullet. John had been unconscious. And while he was that way, his broken unset bones healed.

So when Dean had found him, they had to break his bones – at least the once in his left leg – all over again to set them right and let them heal all over again. His spinal cord had been injured badly and some of his vertebrae had been broken. That was something his father still felt – something that hurt as hell from time to time.

Anyways.

Bobby had put another couple of logs into the fire and busied himself in the kitchen with breakfast. Yeah, even werewolves had to eat usual food. At least the ones that were born that way. It was enough to hunt every couple of weeks for fresh meat. Although most of them didn't hunt anymore – that was what butchers were for nowadays.

So the Winchesters and Bobby hunted from time to time – just for fun. Or took the cattle the farmers around left on the field for them. - Actually always about the new moon.

„You gotta be hungry as hell, boy.", Bobby muttered sleepily, as he sensed him entering the kitchen.

„Starving." Dean groaned and sat down at the table, watching the older man.

„Figured. - You gotta need to watch out for yourself.", Bobby muttered and placed a bile of bacon and scrambled eggs on a plate. „Keep ya' strength up."

Dean nodded gratefully, as the older man placed the plate in front of him with a mug of coffee. „Thanks."

„Don't mention it.", he smiled and sat down on the other end of the small table. „I'm gonna head back to the Salvage. - Have to finish up some cars or our clients are gonna kill me anytime soon."

Dean looked up, a stripe of bacon in his hand. „I'd come around in the afternoon, after lunch? - If that's okay?" He eyed Bobby closely. „I know we had a deal and you're paying me more than you'd have to … so …"

„Afternoon it is, son. - Caleb and Ash said they've everything under control.", Bobby mentioned and glared at his coffee.

Dean just rolled his eyes. „We can be glad when the garage is still standing, Bobby."

The older man chuckled amused, gulping down his coffee. „Yeah well … Ash ain't a big mechanic."

The younger one's grin widened. „But he's getting us the best deals."

Later that morning – Bobby was already gone – Dean had made up a plate with chopped fruits and brought them into the bedroom, placing them on the nightstand, including two glasses of milk. Then he left again, leaving the man some privacy. An hour later the plate was empty and the glasses too. Another win for the wolf – at least he figured.

He sat down beside Sam, earning a flinch as he laid a hand on the curled up figure under the blankets.

Dean cleared his throat. „I'd like you to take a bath." He waited for a moment after he had spoken. „To get you all cleaned up and to put fresh bandages on your wounds."

Sam's lips formed into a hard line, biting his lower lip. He turned onto his back, stretched out a little bit. Not looking at Dean.

„But first you've to take something for me." Dean had nearly forgotten about the painkillers Ellen had left for the human.

„Yes sir.", Sam muttered, his voice still hoarse from sleep and strained from crying.

The wolf tipped gently Sam's head up, challenging him to catch his gaze. He wouldn't let him look anywhere else, until he had the man's full attention. They stayed like that for a while – their gazes locked - before Dean continued: „Ellen said you should walk around twice a day. Though I don't want you to pass out on me in the tub. - So I figured I'll carry you into the bathroom" He smiled reassuring.

Sam blinked up at him, a slight frown building on his forehead. Big hazel-eyes watching him warily.

„Sure, sir.", he gave back moments later.

Dean nodded and pulled the blankets back. Then he slipped his arms under the man and lifted him up. „It'd be easier if you'd hold onto me, Sam.", he muttered and shifted him a little bit.

The human winced and groaned silently when the wolf did so. He laid his left arm hesitantly around Dean's neck.

„That's good." The younger Winchester praised him in a whisper and made his way towards the bathroom. In the room he let Sam back on his feet in front of the toilet bowl where he sat down, obviously waiting for new orders.

Dean took a deep breath. He might was a werewolf and had these awesome abilities no human had – though it wasn't like he was superman at all. So yeah, even for him it was kind of straining to carry a sasquatch around.

He turned around and twisted on the knobs of the tub until he thought the water had the right temperature for Sam. Then he turned back, eying him for a moment.

„It's gonna need a while before it's full." He sighed and took a glass from the small cupboard on the wall. Then he pulled two white small pills from his pocket and held them in front of Sam.

Sam eyed them curiously while Dean filled some cool water into the glass.

„Just the painkillers. - Like I told you before. - Nothing dangerous." He explained with a smile on his lips.

Sam took them and emptied the glass of water, eying the bathtub curiously, before he stole a glance at the man's face. Something told him to trust the man. Something deep inside him told him, that he was different from the others. But his mind wouldn't let him believe it just yet. His mind yelled at him that this man was like all the others before. That he'd hurt him sooner or later.

„You know you can talk to me, Sam." He still smiled. „I'm not gonna bite." He chuckled and shook his head. „And you really shouldn't call me sir."

Sam stole another glance at him, trying to figure out why the man tried to be nice to him. What sense did it make when he'd treat him so very different when he was all better again. Sam wasn't a fool. He knew these people did things that weren't quiet logic.

Maybe because they had paid for him. - The worst thing was that there were three of them. Three. This couldn't be good. And he knew he wouldn't come out there alive – and maybe that was a good thing after all. After all he had endured he figured that dying wasn't the worst thing that could happen to him – there were way more cruel things.

„Ready?", Dean tore him out of his thoughts, his eyebrows furrowed, as he put some of the antiseptic wash-lotion into the water.

Sam nodded.

„Good. - I'll leave you to it. Do what you have to do. - I'll come back to you in about half an hour or so. Just take your time." The man still smiled at him as he stole another glance at his face and bright green eyes.

So Sam did what he had to do – his business. And then started slowly to undress himself. Wincing or biting back the groans when he bowed forward and dizziness dared to make him to topple over. Finally he had managed to get naked.

He didn't know how exactly he was supposed to get into the tub. At least not with the dizziness and his sore body. Sam pulled the bandage from his upper thigh off. It didn't look as bad. He have had worse. Then he glanced over his shoulder into the mirror, spotting tow other bandages, wich he removed gingerly.

Then he drew his attention back at the tub, frowning at the steaming water in it. He bowed forward to tip his finger into the water and check the temperature when everything around him started to spin and darkness caught him in the very next moment.

He felt as he hit his head on something hard and a low thump as he heard himself hitting the cold tiles.

And then all his senses failed …

…. to be continued

SO LET ME KNOW: IS IT OKAY THAT FAR?

(I know I'm always going slow …)