Of Werwolves And Humans

Chapter 12 ~ Not Letting You Go

THEN:

Though he wondered how much Sam might have heard and how much of it he understood. Not that he thought Sam was stupid. - No way. He sure as hell wasn't. Just … Thomas' words could've been hurtful for someone who didn't know the wolf like Dean did.

… Hell, these words could've been hurtful for everyone to be honest.

NOW:

When Dean entered their room, he saw the human sitting on the bed. His elbows braced on his knees and his head resting in his big hands. The wolf let the door slide into the lock silently behind him.

Sam looked up, his cheeks flushed even when his skin remained a couple of shades too pale for Dean's liking. His ever so hazel-green eyes in a haze of fever that was running thru him.

The older male managed a small smile, but Sam didn't smile back at him. He just sat there and looked at Dean with an ashamed expression in his eyes, as if he had done something wrong, as he was guilty all the way.

Sam swallowed visibly and looked aside. „I'm sorry.", he whispered barely hearable. „I didn't mean to be a burden. Ever." Sam's eyes met Dean's. „I might not know the meaning of being a mate. - Not in the way you do. But … I … I don't want you to feel responsible for me." He looked aside again. „It wouldn't be fair." He managed a sad smile. „It feels good when someone steps in for me. - And I'm grateful for that. I really am. - Because it feels real good. I feel wanted." Sam looked up at Dean, who stood there with a bottle in his left hand and something else in his right one, just staring at him. „I haven't had that ever since mom died." Sam paused. „But you don't have to do that, you know? - Protecting me." …. I'm not worth it.

Dean stared at him – first in shock … than in something that wasn't quite nameable. This was way more – and in whole sentences - Sam had ever said before. He was talking to him. Not because Dean had asked him something. - Without being ordered to do so. And for a moment Dean didn't know what to say to THAT. Because Sam sure as hell didn't know what a werewolf's mate was meant to be. But he knew that Sam deserved to be loved and protected like every other being did.

And Dean said nothing. Nothing at all. For a moment longer he stood there and then … then he just walked over to Sam and squat down before him, putting the Gatorade and the Tylenol aside. Sam was following his movements warily. Trying to figure out if it had been okay to talk without being asked something, or if Dean would appreciate it.

And Dean took Sam's hands in his, cradling them in between his palms and fingers and smiled. He just smiled. Sam looked like the thirteen year old right now. Like the way he had looked at him, when he had brought him home to Sam's house all these years ago.

„You don't have to KNOW what a mate is. - Either you FEEL it or not.", Dean explained calmly. „I can't expect you to feel the same way I am feeling for you. Because you're not a wolf. You're human. - Our souls might be bound, but that doesn't mean that you have to feel the same way I do. - Would you be a wolf like me it'd be different. You'd know from the moment you sensed me. But I can't expect that from you." Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. „Usually my mate'd be a wolf, you know?" He looked at Sam, searching his eyes and face for understanding. „Just in rare cases … mates are something different … and it barely works out well then." … usually they'd turn a human into a werewolf. But then Sam wouldn't be the same again. He'd be a turned one, filled with the need to kill. Filled with rage and anger and bloodlust.

Sam tilted his head to the side, trying to read in between Dean's words.

„Are you …" Dean sucked in a shuddering breath. „Are YOU feeling something about me?"

Now Sam frowned, his eyebrows furrowed and big hazel-green eyes looked into his. He dropped his gaze and thought – thought hard. Then he looked up again, with something like sorrow in his eyes.

The younger Winchester swallowed hard and his gaze dropped to their feet, staring onto Sam's naked toes.

„You don't have to answer that. - It's … it's stupid. I shouldn't have asked …" Dean stood up and let go of Sam's hands, muttering something into his breath. „Just get back into bed." He turned around, placing the bottle on the nightstand, avoiding Sam's gaze. „You're running a fever. - Your heart's beating a little too fast." His voice was watery, so were his eyes. „Drink the Gatorade and I'll bring you something to eat a bit later."

Dean walked away from him towards the door and laid his hand on the handle, glancing back at Sam. „I'd wish that we could become friends, you know?" A sad smile tugged on the male's lips – just on his lips. „That's all I'm asking for. - Just friends, Sam."

Then he was gone. Just like that.

Sam sat there – even minutes later – thought about what the feelings meant that he had for Dean, but couldn't name them. Couldn't tell the other male what these were correctly, so he had said nothing. And now he regretted his decision. Maybe he should've tried to explain, that from the first moment he had seen the older male at school, that he KNEW who he belonged to. And then – when Dean came for him, helped him getting thru the day with all these bullies and his father … it had felt like coming home. He had felt so different – and was still the same being.

Sam eyed the bottle with the blue liquid for a moment, before he took it. He uncapped it and took two long sips, before he crawled back into bed. He felt like crap. Not only because he felt sick, but also because he had sensed Dean's disappointment as he hadn't answered. He could at least had said something. He owed him that much.

Dean and the others had saved him – for a second time. Had taken care of him, had patched him up. Hadn't laid a hand on him ever since he was with the … pack. He owed them and he'd make it up to them as soon as possible. He'd make it up to Dean.

SPN ~

Dean sat on the porch of Bobby's house and took a swig from his beer staring into the yard – blankly. He didn't hear the front door open and close again. Didn't hear the footsteps behind him and the creaking floorboards. He didn't sense the narrowing wolf that came up behind him. - Just because he was too deep in thoughts.

With a „Hey there." he got torn away of his deep thoughts from an omni-present pack-member. His dad.

Dean sucked in a breath and looked up at his father, as he sat down beside him with a deep sigh. He held a glass with burbon in his hand, staring at the content of it. „I can hear you sulking from in there ..." He rose an eyebrow upon his son. „Did Sam hear us?"

Dean just glanced at his father and his shoulders hunched forward even more with the weight they were baring right now.

„Figured." John took a swig from his glass and a second one.

„He talked. I mean: really talked." The younger wolf paused for a moment, staring into nothingness in between his feet on the ground. „And I asked him if he's feeling something for me …"

This was a first time for John Winchester. He had never seen his son that depressed EVER. Usually he had been the one who had broken up with a girl, or had just left before breakfast. And now – even after nothing had happened – his son was down just from that? That wasn't the Dean Winchester he knew.

After Dean didn't continue, John cleared his throat. „And what did he say?" He eyed Dean closely, saw unshed tears sparkling in his son's eyes.

„Nothing … he said nothing. Just looked at me like I'm an alien or somethin'." Dean chuckled nervously. „To be honest: What did I expect to happen? That he'd jump on me or somethin'? That he'd say, that it's cool and that he'd love to be my mate until death tears us appart?"

John frowned at the sarcasm in his son's words. „In fact we're something like aliens, you know?" He had a sly grin on his lips. „I know it's hard, son. - It's damn hard.", he added silently, his grin gone now.

Dean nodded. „I wanted to build a house. I wanted so much things …", he talked to no one in particular.

„You can still do that.", John gave back.

„How? - And for whom? - For my not-mate-wife?", Dean asked sarcastically. „ Or for my mate-human?"

John chuckled and shook his head. „Just wait and see. - He didn't freak out, did he?"

Dean shook his head pensively.

„See? - You can't know what's gonna happen. He might's going to surprise you." John petted his son's shoulder enthusiastically.

The front door opened and Thomas lurked outside, spotting the two Winchester's on the top-step of the porch with a malicious grin. „Hey. - Your human's pukin' his internals out.", he stated as if he was telling him that dinner was ready.

Both men's heads snapped around. Dean was on his feet and upstairs in no time. Bobby was already there, sitting on the bed and holding the human around his shoulders, while he held a basin in the man's lap so it wouldn't topple to either side.

The acrid smell of spew crawled up Dean's nostrils.

„Sam?", Dean breathed and was on the bed's side in the very next moment, crawling on it to take Bobby's place.

The both men shared a look and Dean gave him a short nod, saying I got this. Sam's body tensed again and he started dry-heaving. The older man eyed the contents in the basin. Just blue and saliva – the only things Sam had in his stomach anyway.

„It's okay.", Dean whispered. „Get it out." He brushed Sam's sweat-dump hair back, feeling his forehead in the process. He was burning up …

Ellen.

Finally Sam's body relaxed and he would've slumped back into the pillows, wouldn't it have been for Dean supporting him. He laid him back gently and brushed the overlong bangs out of Sam's face. He was pale and his cheeks were flushed from the fever. There was a thin sheen of sweat that covered the human's skin.

Sam trembled and panted slightly.

In the very next moment there was a hand beside the younger Winchester, offering a thermometer to him. He looked up on the arm and found a concerned John Winchester on its end, frowning at Sam. Dean nodded at his father and took the thermometer, just to tug it a movement later into Sam's armpit.

Dazed eyes watched the younger Winchester from below, as he felt the weight of the basin lifted from him.

Sam coughed weakly, trying to get rid of the tingly feeling in his throat. „'m sorry.", he muttered, closing his heavy eyelids.

„Nah. - For what?", Dean managed a gentle smile and pulled the thermometer out, as it started to beep. „102.9." He frowned and looked down at Sam. „You're runnin' a fever, kiddo."

Sam blinked his eyes open lazily. The whole room spun around him and he felt worse than just crap. Worse than he had ever felt before. He closed his eyes again so he wouldn't see the furniture moving in circles around him. He felt a gentle hand on his chest and a cool cloth on his forehead. He FELT Dean beside him. Murmuring.

Dean eyed the bottle with the Tylenol and frowned. It'd probably would come back up as soon as Sam swallowed it. He scooted back on the bed until he leaned against the headboard.

„Sammy?", he asked softly and ran a finger over the human's shoulder.

Sam lifted his heavy eyelids, gazing in Dean's direction. His eyes focused and unfocused again, but he seemed to recognize him.

„You're still feeling sick?", he asked then.

„No.", Sam breathed. „Just tired."

The younger Winchester looked up at his father on the side of the bed, biting his lower lip. Then at Bobby on the other side and sighed deeply. „Would you call Ellen? Ask her if she can make a stop here? Having a look at Sam?"

The eldest among them gave him a nod and left the room. John pulled up a chair beside the bed and left them too, just to return with a cup of coffee and a plate with raw bacon, about ten minutes later. He knew his son had to eat. He had to be ravenous by now. Changing their forms did this to them all the time. And meaty stuff was the best way to regain strength.

Dean set the bottle on Sam's lip and let him take small sips, before he went for the bacon and coffee.

John slumped down in the chair beside the bed and yawned. He still felt the effects of the narcotics in his system.

Sam fell into a light slumber minutes later, cradling one of Dean's arms in his hands, holding it close as if he could vanish any moment.

Caleb and Ash brought juice and more coffee for Sam and Dean later. The younger Winchester knew that they just wanted to snatch a look at the human that was representing some kind of baby-puppy now, that needed to be watched out for. It was a weird thing, that always the youngest among them got the extra portions of food and was the most protected member of them.

Dean could trust them. He knew they wouldn't let Sam get hurt. They would care about him like they cared about each other of the pack.

There was just one he didn't trust … THOMAS. Sure they had shared their opinions on humans before all the other things happened. They have had kind of the same favors and life-style. But then again … he knew how he was thinking about humans and hunters in general. And since William Campbell had been a hunter (and not a bad one) and nearly everyone heard bells ringing when they heard that name, he'd be pretty pissed when he figured out whose son Sam was.

Finally John left and Dean and Sam were on their own again – at least for the night.

Ellen had come by and declared that Sam got a chest infection. She left antibiotics and painmeds. She got him on an I.V. and started a saline drip, gave him his first shot of antibiotics and painkillers for the upcoming night, so he'd rest more peacefully.

Sitting in nearly the same position for over three hours made Dean restless and more than just uncomfortable, but he stayed. Right were he was, leaning against the headboard of Sam's bed, his arm wrapped up in Sam's long arms. Sam's hands held his against his body in an overwarm embrace.

As less as Dean wanted to take the comfort from the human, he had to. Had to change his position or something.

So he had two possibilities. First: trying to get comfortable on the way too small bed, or shoving the other one against Sam's. Dean decided for the second possibility, since he would spend the rest of the night there.

So he untangled his arm from Sam's grip and shoved his bed flush against Sam's noisily. Sam didn't as much as gave a silent whimper and shifted, reaching for something – someone – beside him. As he gripped into nothing but air, his eyes opened lazily and gazed at his empty hands until Dean came back into few – right beside him.

Bright green eyes and full lips smiled at him as he blinked at the man, who got onto the bed. For a moment he had thought that Dean was gone. That he had left him. That all of the things he could remember had been just a dream.

But they weren't.

Dean was still there .

With him.

The older male inched closer and laid his arm against Sam's ribcage again, offering it.

A weak smile and happiness ghosted over the human's face, as he curled up around the arm, claiming it for himself. Long fingers wrapped around Dean's lower arm and tugged it snug against his over warm body.

Dean took care that he wouldn't rip out his I.V. in the process.

As Sam stopped to shift and his shuddering breaths evened out again, Dean brushed one of the overlong dark strands from Sam's face and curled it around his index-finger playfully. Warm puffs of air sent a comfortable sensation all over Dean's exposed skin, as Sam buried his face into his bicep and shoulder. Dean took the human's face in, smiling gently, mapping it with his look, memorizing every single curve and dimple of it.

One of the wolves had survived – one of them had gotten away. So they'd know that Sam wasn't dead and that he had help from others like them. No pack-leader would leave it be that way. They'd seek out revenge ...

No matter what.

Dean knew that. He also knew that there'd come others for him and probably for his pack as well now.

And then there was still Thomas. Thomas who would never accept Sam as a member. But he'd accept the rules. And the rules were that they were a democratic pack (at least most of the time. And when they were not, then Bobby was their leader since he was the oldest. And never one of them would dare to call that into question).

Other than that they were doing pretty well, Dean figured. Sam had done well – at least with him and the whole wolf-thing. So there was still a little win in all this.

About the other stuff he'd think when it would come to it …

…... to be continued

loosing your interest, folks? :(

feed me with bacon or i'll starve ...