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Of Werewolves And Humans

Chapter 25 ~ Where We Go When It's All Over

THEN:

It was the moment as he tried to break free of the other male's hold on his wrist, where he held him tight now. The moment as he felt a pinch in his back and everything blurred. Within seconds his knees became jello, his mind fuzzy, his body disobedient.

That was when his legs gave out and he hit the floor – hard. When he saw a face hovering over him. Emerald-green eyes that seemed to shift into white silver ones for a moment before everything went dark around him.

NOW:

Dean and John burst through the open front-door of Bobby's house. They rapidly scanned their surroundings as they stopped in their tracks in the hall.

The very next moment John took off towards the stairway, locating Ellen's form on the bottom-stairs. A graze on her forehead was bleeding violently. The air was still pregnant with the heavy scent of gun-powder.

Instantly the older Winchester examined the wound and checked the rest of their female pack-member's body over. Gladly there was nothing else than the graze on her forehead. Sadly the graze was from a silver-bullet. There were already forming dark lines under her skin that showed the deadly poison beginning to spread through the wolf's system.

„Silver.", John hissed through gritted teeth. „Bastards."

Dean took a deep inhale, sucking in the scents – familiar and unfamiliar ones. „Shifter.", he muttered angrily.

John cupped the woman's face in his hands, rubbing over her cheekbones gently. It wasn't too late for the antidote yet. They'd be able to save Ellen's life when they'd give it to her right now.

Dean's whole form tensed. His look darted towards the kitchen, the living-room and then to the stairs. The knowledge that Sam wasn't here – wasn't in the house anymore, that he had been taken settled over his mind and heart. It felt like the knowledge wanted to squeeze him to death and rip his heart out at the same death. It felt like he got torn apart and then again, as if he would implode any moment.

It was like the wolf inside of him was about to take control, taking on the track of scents that would lead him out of the house and from the yard into the woods. But he knew better. He needed to hold it together. For Sam. He needed to stay focused and cold-blooded. If he'd lose control now, he could possibly make it even worse …

They had planned this, the leader of the other pack had planned to lurk the pack away from the salvage … to take his mate. To do the same thing to the Winchester, what Dean had done to the alpha.

Dean growled, his look darting towards his father and Ellen on the steps. „Antidote?", he asked growling.

John glanced back over his shoulder, catching the raged look of his son and gave him a short nod. Dean took off towards the basement and came back minutes later with a syringe filled with toxic-green fluid. He handed it to his father and went outside on the porch, sucking in a deep breath, trying to clear his head. But the shifter's and Sam's scent were there. He couldn't shake it off. It was burnt into his nose. The wolf in him tried to figure out in what direction the shifter had disappeared with his mate …

…. „The farm." A low rumble echoed over the yard, warning every single being in a radius of one mile about Dean Winchester's current mental state.

White hot rage and red anger burned deep inside the wolfman. Despair and guilt flamed up inside him about the realization that they had gotten into a trap. That they had done exactly what the other pack had wanted them to do.

They had just occupied them – ever so carefully during their fight not to harm Dean Winchester. Not to come too close to him. Not to be forced to hurt the young wolf. - He had sensed the trap at this point. He had. But it had been too late already.

They had wanted Dean Winchester to live – just so he would suffer like their leader had suffered when they killed his wife (mate). Deryl wanted him to feel like he felt – or even worse.

So yeah … they'd kill Sam. - They would make him suffer – because of Dean.

And he couldn't let that happen. He WOULDN'T let that happen. Not to Sam. Not now. Not where they just had sealed their bond. Not after he knew what Sam meant to him and what it'd feel like to lose him. - Just thousands of times worse.

The lights of Bobby's truck appeared in the driveway at the very moment, tearing him away from his dark thoughts.

The rest of what was left of their pack was coming home … just to learn that one of them got injured and one taken while they were away, hunting these bastards down.

The leader of the other pack had finally gotten what he wanted. The only person that was able to confirm what they had done all these years. The mate of the wolf who had killed his mate.

The truck stopped in front of the porch.

Ash was the first one to jump from the bed, followed by a battered Thomas, and a messed up Bobby Singer emerged from the driver's seat. The three of them instantly sensed that something wasn't right.

Dean alone on the porch. No Ellen, no Sam, no John around him. The pained howl that ripped from the youngest wolf's throat in an attempt to release all the emotions at ones echoed through the coldest of nights.

Realization hit her before she was even able to claw her way fully into consciousness. Somewhere between here and there she sensed the distress of her pack. She sensed the scents of fear, desperation, anger and grief.

When her eye-lids flew open, she noticed that she wasn't all on her own. Bobby was sitting beside her bed, staring out of the window.

„Sam ...", she muttered hoarsely.

That was when a searing pain ripped through her skull and she squeezed her eyes shut for a long moment.

Bobby looked up, a mix of worry and sorrow on his face.

„Go slow.", he said calmly and sat up in his chair, eying the woman closely. „How are you feeling?"

Ellen gave an embarrassed chuckle. „Like shit."

The older man gave her a remorseful look. „No wonder … the silver did a thing on you, old lady."

Ellen let out a snort as she opened her eyes again, looking at the old man. „You're way older than me, hon." She then propped herself up on an elbow and slid her legs out of the bed, shaking her head slightly. „They have him ...", she said then, with a groan, „They have a message for his mate ..."

Bobby frowned deeply. „What message do they have for him?"

Ellen walked gingerly down the stairs, flanked by Bobby, who held her elbow in an attempt to stabilize her swaying walk until they reached the bottom-stairs.

As they got into the kitchen, all eyes were on them. Dean rose from his chair, dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes searching her face.

She couldn't look him in the eyes at first. Sam had been her responsibility. Dean had counted on her that she'd take care of him. That she'd look out for his mate. That she'd protect the human and she had failed. - Had failed so miserably, it hurt.

„What is it?", his voice broke mid-sentence.

Ellen cast her look down once more. „They want you to be at the farm at noon. Alone …"

Dean sniffed, rubbing over his face. A short glance at the watch above the kitchen-table and then he looked back at the woman, once again close to cry … „Noon ...", he muttered to himself.

„He said they'll leave it up to you … You can come and try to save your mate, or you can stay away and leave him hanging while he dies … alone." She closed her eyes for a moment. „I'm so sorry.", she choked out, „So sorry, Dean. - I'm so sorry … I should've watched out for him … you left him to me … and I didn't …"

„No one knew.", Dean said, his face blank, his look empty, his hands shaking. The younger Winchester glanced at the watch again. Five hours to go … five hours in whom he wasn't THERE with his mate. In whom they could do horrible things to him. And he knew they would – he just knew. They had done it before – they had taken everything from Sam …

If Sam'd die. Then they both'd die. - There was no way he'd be able to carry on … no way.

„We've still time.", Bobby said warily – eying their youngest pack-member. „We can figure something out -"

„No.", Dean said firmly. „They're gonna kill him if we try something …"

All looks were on him.

Ellen was swallowing a silent sob.

„It's a trap and you know it. - Deryl wants you to watch when he kills your mate. He wants to make it worse for you as it was for him ...", John threw in quietly. „In the end you both will be dead … you'll let Deryl win."

Dean shot his father a glare. „I don't care. - As long as there's a chance I'll take it … I won't let those bastards torture him all over again." With that Dean left the room, the house, strolling along on the yard, trying to clear his thoughts. He knew it was a trap. They'd kill them both if he'd go there. - And he honestly didn't care as long as they'd be together. In life or in death …

They'd kill Sam first, would make him bleed for being what he was … Dean Winchester's mate.

He couldn't let Sam go like this. He couldn't let him go without letting him know that he loved him. That there'd be another better place waiting for the both of them – where they hopefully would be united again.

On the other side there was the wolf – the fighter – the soldier – the leader. The one who wouldn't accept the other wolf's ultimatum. The one who didn't give in that easy. The one who was looking for an expedient, where he and Sam would stay alive and together.

He had to find the middle course …

There were still three hours to go until noon, when Dean got back into the house. His posture and look showed definite determination. The fire of the wolf gleaming in his eyes, his whole nature seemed cool on the outside, hiding the burning rage in his inside.

John slammed his phone shut as he sensed his son's return.

„You have a plan?", Dean asked his father as he went into the kitchen, well knowing that he must've had talked to the sheriff in the meantime.

An unmistakable Winchester-grin formed on his dad's lips, his eyes glistening slyly. „I do have – in fact – a plan."

It was dark. So dark.

The air was heavy and thick.

It smelled like rotten meat and wood.

The surface was damp and cold beneath him.

His head was heavy and his mind fuzzy. His vision blurred and was sort of a misty white on its edges.

Sam tried to sit up, but bumped his head on something that sounded wooden above him. He lowered his head back down on the hard surface, blinking his eyes open. He was surrounded by complete darkness and for a moment he wondered if he was blind, if there even was something that could be seen.

He ever so slowly raised his hand over his head, feeling along the surface just inches above him. He traced with his fingers over something hard and … it felt like wooden panells. He stretched his legs out, just to find out that the place where he was, was slightly smaller than he himself. Then he reached to his left and right. There were just a couple of inches in between his shoulders and the wood there.

Sam sucked in a shuddering breath, tracing with his fingertips all over the walls around him – where he was able to reach them.

A hint of panic settled over him. It was too small – too tight to even turn on his side or shift in his position. It was too similar to what he had seen and felt before … in his worst of nightmares.

He was caught and locked down in some kind of casket. A wooden grave …

His breath hitched and he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to hold the rising panic at bay, trying to stay calm. There was no use to freak out anyway. He WAS in there … and whatever they would do with him (to him) … it wouldn't last. Sam soon found reassurance that this wouldn't last.

Dean – HIS Dean – would get him out of there. He'd look for him …

Flashes of his nightmare flooded his mind, letting his body shudder from the promises his dream held.

„No, no no.", Sam muttered to himself.

He didn't want Dean to come. „No.", Sam said out louder, angrier. He prayed. He prayed that he wouldn't. His mate would die if he'd come to save him.

Dean sat behind the wheel of his beloved Impala. Staring out of the windshield towards the farm, just a couple of miles away now.

He sucked in a deep breath, held it, and blew it out again. He pulled the keys from the ignition and stuffed them into the right pocket of his jeans. Then he looked at the passenger's seat and back out of the wind-shield.

When they'd drive back home, Sam'd be with him. He would be breathing and alive and just fine, flashing his dimples at him, giving him the most adorable smile he had ever seen. He'd be holding the human's warm hand, would squeeze it gently. Would tell him that it was all over and that they'd be save from now on. Dean would tell him how desperate he had been, how much he missed him. He'd squeeze his hand and seal his lips over his mate's, showing him how much he loved him …

The younger Winchester sucked his lower lip in and bit down on it. HARD. „I'll go and get you, Babe.", he whispered to himself, „WE'll get you back."

And with that he left the car behind, taking off for his walk across the snow-covered soil towards his destination.

What had felt like an eternity later, he finally reached the porch of the main-house. Two men stood before the front-door, guarding it on either side. Both didn't move for a brief moment and just stared at him.

„I'm here.", Dean said, standing at the foot of the porch, staring daggers at them. „I've an appointment with your leader."

One of the men, a giant guy – with the reek of wet dog on him – stepped forward and opened the door. Dean went up the porch, glancing at the man as he passed him.

He felt a pinch in his neck and a short burn … and that's had been all to take Dean down in a matter of seconds.

The first thing he felt were his bindings … that he was unable to move.

The second thing was searing pain lancing through his skull as he blinked his eyes open, staring down at his denim-covered thighs. He struggled slightly and his head snapped up at the scent of wolves and shifters … and SAM.

The very next moment he felt cool metal against his temple – the barrel of a gun most likely. He could smell the faint scent of silver lingering in the air.

„There you go.", he heard an unfamiliar voice beside him. „Someone's joining us …" A mischievous chuckle followed.

Dean groaned, smacking his dry lips. Thinking about a cocky response … but there was non he could utter right now.

Sam … was the only thing he could think about ... Get Sam out of here.

So far so good. He wasn't dead … yet. What meant there was still a chance to get out, get to Sam … but for now he had to stay put. Had to let the others do the work. He was just the one who had to draw it out a little bit. The one who had to play along as long as possible. - As long as the others would need.

„Fuck you.", Dean hissed glaring at the man beside him. - Who definitely had to be the alpha of this pack. His scent alone … the strong presence of being a leader that surrounded him …

Deryl chuckled and cocked the gun in his hand, letting it sink slowly to his side, his finger lingering upon the trigger nonetheless. His deep blue eyes were cool and composed, so was his whole body language. But on the inside he was boiling. Dean could tell – it smelled like rage and blind hate … and Sam. Sam's scent was all over this man, as if ….

His eyes widened at the realization. „You damn bastard.", he hissed, the emerald color of his circles turning into green liquid fire.

The Winchester's muscles in his yaw and neck worked, as his gaze swept through the room. It was a barn and he was tied to a chair. - His hands fastened on the back-lean of it, his ankles bound to its legs.

He could've ripped the thing apart in an instant. - But then … what would they do to Sam if he dared? He wasn't in the room – at least he was out of his sight at the moment … and Deryl knew that these bindings wouldn't hold him … he probably counted on Dean's fear to lose his mate.

Deryl made a round around the chair, glancing at his precious captive. „You took my mate down.", he said, his firy temper boiling beneath the cool surface of his skin. „You let her bleed out …"
Dean followed the man with his gaze as he passed, a cold shiver running down his spine as he vanished out of sight behind him to come back around on the other one again.

„YOU took her from me ..." The alpha stated matter-of-factly.
„She tried to kill what's mine.", Dean hissed, trying to hold his own emotions at bay – at least for the moment. He needed to keep a cool head. Needed to stay focused.

„Well … I'd say first you took HIM from me and MADE him yours. He had been also mine – I bought him fair and square. Sharon just went out to get HIM back." Deryl's lips formed into a thin line, his features still hard and unreadable. „But that's not WHY you're here, Winchester. You're here because you murdered my other half. You're here to endure what it feels like, when the one you love gets ripped away from you."

Dean glared at him. „You leave him alone, bitch. - Or I swear ..."

Deryl chuckled and cocked an eyebrow. „You swear what? - You make a move on me and my men are going to rip your little human whore apart before you can try anything.", he hissed into Dean's ear. He straightened again and increased his pace as he walked around the chair again. „I wanted to offer you the chance of watching your mate die. At least he wouldn't be as alone as Sharon had been. Wasn't she? - And when I'm done you're a free little pup again. - I promise.", he said louder, but his voice remained somehow soft and gentle as if he wanted to caress Dean's ears. „You can try to kill me, you can follow your mate into death – whatever ..."

Dean huffed a curse. „Where's he?"

Deryl chuckled. „Awww … I figured we could draw this out a little bit."

Dean gave a disapproving snarl.

„You know – before I get little Sammy in here – I wanted you to know how GOOD he feels ..." Deryl laid his flat palm over the zipper of his jeans making a guttural sound, as he stopped before his captive. A cocky grin forming on his lips – the first emotion he shared with the younger Winchester ever since he had woken up.

Obviously enjoying to see Dean squirming in his bindings, seeing him boil without being able to do anything about it. He then shook his head and pursed his lips. „Nah … we don't want to rip the ropes, do we?" He smacked his lips, his tongue running over his lower lip. „You know what? - Do it. Then my men will come in here, nail you down on the floor and you can watch me and your mate making out a little bit." He gave an amused lough. „Wouldn't that be a show? Me taking him? In front of you? Making him MINE." The last word was a mix of a snarl and a hiss.

Dean growled, his lips curling down in disgust, his eyes flaring up with red hot anger. „Don't you dare touch him ...", he hissed through gritted teeth. „Lets solve this like wolves, not like cowards."

„Well … we're solving this like wolves, Winchester. An eye for an eye." Deryl sighed. „Well … it's nice to see you caring. - I'll say we'll get on with the show then." He singsang and rolled his eyes. „Guess we've to leave as soon as I'm done here anyway … We need to get the business back on track. - Have to stuck up on whores and such … "

„Got an appointment?", Dean asked cockily.

„Non of your business, pup. - Sit tight and I'll make it as quick as possible.", he stated and waved with his hand in the air.

Upon his command, a man and a woman appeared, dragging a half-conscious Sam in between them.

„Well … there you go ...", Deryl explained clinically. „I thought about … letting you watch as he bleeds out in front of you. - But then again … I figured that'd be a little too fast."

The man and the woman stopped in their tracks, still holding Sam under his armpits. His legs seemed weak and wobbly and as if they weren't able to hold his weight at the moment.

„Sam!", Dean called out, eying his mate's form closely.

The human tilted his head up, searching his surroundings with an unfocused gaze. His right cheekbone was swollen and badly bruised.

Trying to hold onto the voice Sam had just heard, his eyebrows narrowed. And he ever so badly wished he hadn't.

He wished Dean hadn't come … didn't get himself in danger for him – again.

Deryl walked over in front of the human, placing himself in between Sam and Dean so they wouldn't be able to see each other. He then buried his fingers in Sam's hair and fisted it violently, pulling his head back.

Sam winced and squeezed his eyes shut at the sudden movement.

Deryl made a step aside and glanced at the captured wolf. Showing himself with his captive's mate.

„I thought I could turn him ...", Deryl cocked an eyebrow upon the Winchester, then looked back at Sam. „Making him one of us … But then again … he wouldn't be the same again, would he?"

„I killed your mate.", Dean hissed. „I ripped her throat out, not he." He locked his gaze with Sam's, who had finally managed to focus enough to recognize DEAN. „He's got nothing to do with it. - Please … you have me, let him go ...", by now Dean sounded close to begging.

Deryl gave him a short chuckle and shook his head. „I'm gonna tell you what i'll do. I'm gonna hurt him until you can't take it anymore. Until you want to release him by yourself from his pitiful life. - I suppose that's just fair, isn't it? At least you've a choice – A choice I didn't have ..."

„You're one sick bastard!", Dean yelled, „Your wife was a psychopath! That's why she's dead! She didn't deserve anything else." He panted, his look darting between Deryl and his mate, his features screwed up in fury.

Sam watched the Winchester fearfully, shaking his head, telling him not to provoke him.

But it was already too late. Deryl lunged out and slapped Sam across the face with the back of his hand, leaving an angry red mark on his left cheek.

Sam had feared he'd go for his mate – for Dean. That he'd hurt or even kill him … then again Sam knew that the alpha hurt Dean when he'd hurt him … this way or another he stood on lost ground. At least Sam'd know that the love of his life wouldn't have to die – would still have a chance to escape even if HE couldn't.

„Don't you dare and talk like that about Sharon. - Humans don't deserve better. They're no bit better than us. THEY'RE WORSE.", Deryl hissed, glaring at the younger Winchester. He cleared his throat in an attempt to calm himself down. „I'm gonna make your whore bleed for me." With that he landed a hit with his fist in Sam's stomach, who tried to suck in a breath, that came out as a long-drawn wheeze.

Dean struggled against his bindings for a moment. Reminding himself to stay put. That the others would come any moment. That it couldn't be much longer now. They just had to hold on. Sam had to hold on.

„I'll end what you couldn't, right Sammy?" Deryl chuckled scornfully and shot a glance at Dean. „If you would've killed yourself … all of this wouldn't have happened, right? - Your mate wouldn't be here, you wouldn't be here. His pack wouldn't have lost one of their family …"

Sam's head lolled forward against his chest as Deryl let go of his hair and Sam rose his face a little bit to meet his mate's gaze over the distance. They had lost someone? was the first question that formed in his head.

Sam swallowed thickly, trying to hold the rising bile down.

Dean's look told him to hold on, to not let that bastard win. He told him so many things just his mate was able to understand with a single look.

Deryl gave a wave with his hand and the two beings let go of Sam, letting him crumble to the floor.

„On your knees." The alpha pointed with the gun's barrel at Sam's head.

But Sam couldn't, wasn't even able to understand a word at the moment.

„On your knees.", Deryl hissed and bowed forward, to grab Sam's hair again with his free hand and pulled him up on his knees. He then looked at the two who had brought the human in. „Cut his ropes.", he ordered calmer.

When they were done, Sam brought his hands before him, rubbing his wrists, where the ropes had dug into his skin. Deryl yanked the human's head back, locking his gaze with him.

„You know what to do.", Deryl said – just loud enough so Sam was able to hear it. „Or Dean's the one who pays for your disobedience."

The human swallowed, tears gleaming in his eyes, as he sneaked a glance at his mate. His look telling Dean to forgive him for what he was going to do. Begging him to look away – looking anywhere but them.

Blind panic flared up deep inside Dean and he was about to tear the ropes apart that bound him. As he felt a hand on his left shoulder and one on his right, holding him down.

When Sam laid his shaky hands on the belt of the alpha, Deryl positioned himself so, that Dean would have a good few at the both of them.

Another glance towards his mate and Dean lost it right then. With a single movement he freed himself from his bindings, ripping the wooden chair apart, ready to lung at the bastard who dared to touch his mate.

But Dean didn't come far. Not even an inch, as he got yanked back on the ground and then hands were on him, pushing him into the dirty ground. Someone grabbed his head and turned him forcefully to the side, so he was looking back at the alpha and his mate.

„You just made it even worse for him." Deryl chuckled and twisted his fist in Sam's hair tighter, making him wince.

The farm was cornered by dozens of people. Every single one of them armed to the teeth with rock-salt, silver-rounds and knifes. All of them were people from town. People who knew Bobby ever since, who knew the Winchesters since they had moved to Sioux Falls.

An ambulance with three paramedics and Ellen was parked in one of the side roads, ready to head out towards the farm when they were called, while John, Bobby, Ash and Thomas silenced the patrolling wolves around the buildings and in the main-house.

In one of the storm-cellars of Sioux Falls …

Children were crying silently. Because they didn't understand. Didn't know WHY they had to stay there, why the families had to leave their houses behind, had to take off without preparation. They didn't know why it was so important to stay calm, stay silent.

But the grown-ups knew. They knew it wasn't because of a storm, that it wasn't because of thunder and lightning and wind. It was because the wolves had them told it'd be saver there. Because Bobby had come and told them to hide, while they'd hunt down the other pack.

Men and women tried to hush their kids, tried to keep them occupied with whispered fairy tales while they waited … waited for the end of the storm. Waited until the wolves from the Salvage would return and tell them that it was over. That they were allowed to go back home.

And hopefully … hopefully the storm would've been gone by then.

Tears were running down the younger Winchester's face. As bad as he had tried to hold them back, as bad as he had meant to follow Sam's plea not to look at them … he couldn't. He just couldn't leave Sam on his own – not like this. His mate had to know that he was with him, that he wouldn't look away. That he was there for him as good as he even could.

His voice was hoarse from yelling. His body sore from the force of three men pinning him to the ground, letting him face the inexpressible.

„Sammy.", he whispered hoarsely, as he watched the harshly breathing form that lay crumbled in a heap on the dirty ground.

Sam drew his hand into a fist, gathering the dirt and loosen hay in it, trying to hold back the sob that was about to fall from his lips. But he failed. Failed so miserably it hurt.

Indescribable pain lanced through Dean's heart as he watched his mate. As Sam desperately to hold back his body from giving in. He had to watch his trembling other half as he tried to hold back the weeping.

Sam tugged on the waistband of his jeans, trying to desperately pull them back up over his hips.

„Maybe fate isn't that mean at all with you, Winchester. - For his time being he was an amazing toy for sure, wasn't he?" Deryl pulled the zipper of his jeans back up and turned to face John's son with an evil glint in his eyes.

„You're gonna rot in hell.", Dean hissed, struggling against the men that lingered over again. „You won't hurt anyone anymore. - Damn bastard!"

By now, the younger Winchester was panting, short raged puffs of air leaving his nostrils and let the dust before his face erupt in small clouds.

Deryl just chuckled, glancing at the human to his feet, who desperately worked on his jeans to get them further up.

No one – specially Dean – should see him like that. He might knew what they had done to him in the past … but this … this was way worse. So much worse …

Dean didn't dare to ask Sam if he was okay, no matter how bad he wanted to. He KNEW he couldn't be okay, that he had to be hurting. „Hold on." Dean whispered as he caught Sam's gaze through long bangs of chestnut-brown hair, telling him with a single look that he loved him, that it was going to be okay, that they just had to hold on.

Moments later the barn erupted. The giant double doors to the front burst open and a rumbling and bloodied wolf stood there, blowing out a low snarl.

„Figured you wouldn't come alone ...", Deryl cocked an eyebrow and stared at the – for Dean unfamiliar – wolf. „Well well … I have to say … since you think the town's people are able to get us down … surprise surprise … we're a lot more than you think, Winchester. - While I'm gettin' my revenge down here … a part of my pack is out there, raiding the town and burning it down." He smiled and blew out a satisfied breath through his nose.

Dean snarled at him dangerously, fire burning in his eyes. The fire of pure hate – hate he had never felt before. THIS WOLF would pay for what he had done.

Bobby led the crowd closer to the barn, where the wolf had disappeared in. He made eye contact with every single one of his group before he started to turn into a grey-haired beast.

He heard the familiar howl of his father, as the back-door flew open. John, Bobby and Ellen appeared in their wolf-forms and instantly turned towards the ones that were to be taken down closest to them. Sheriff Mills, Ash and Thomas went through the front-door, where Thomas took the wolf down, that had just brought the news about their arrival to his alpha.

A terrible mayhem broke loose then.

There were shots heard from the outside, yells and cries, sometimes yelps and barks.

Sam saw the blood, the hay, the litter, felt the pain flaring through his body. The blood – his own blood.

There was the Sheriff and somewhere he thought he had seen John throwing himself at the alpha … He forced himself to look up.

Sam's heart sped up as he couldn't make out Dean anywhere. Moments before he had been on the ground, three men had lingered over his mate. And now he was gone … Sam's breath caught in his throat. He needed to find Dean, needed to stop whatever was going to happen that'd kill his mate.

He couldn't let it happen – not because of him. He didn't care what'd happen to him as long as Dean'd be alive.

As long as his mate had a chance to survive.

He braced himself up on his palms, blood dripping from his split lip. He forced his body to obey, forced his legs to do what his mind told them. He – again – looked around, trying to make out the beings around him, trying to sort out who had to be a friend and who foe.

He was nearly on his feet, when he felt a cool ring of metal against his neck and he stopped.

„Nah … you're going anywhere.", he heard the snarling words of Deryl beside him.

Sam glanced up at the blue-eyed monster that was almost as tall as he was, glaring at him.

„Drop it!", another – way more familiar – voice was heard from the distance.

A shot and a pained whine in the distance and the barn felt silent a split second later.

There was just the Winchester's pack and Deryl left in the barn, while the ones who tried to flee got taken care off at the outside by the humans.

Deryl was the only one left of his pack. – He was the one who was pointing at Sam with a gun. Dared to threaten him like this even when he knew that he didn't stand a chance if he killed Dean's mate. And maybe … just maybe he didn't want to make it out there alive.

He grinned and chuckled. „I'll shoot him ...", he warned, pulling Sam to his feet and before him, using him as a shield.

Dean swallowed thickly, his gaze locking with Sam's.

Sam shook his head slightly, a silent plea in his look, telling Dean not to dare and lower his gun. Not to dare to let his coverage down.

„I'm sorry.", Dean breathed and let go of the trigger, holding his baretta up in surrender.

Sam nearly choked on a sob, feeling the cold metal dig into the sensitive skin of his neck. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather himself, then they fluttered open again. Something Dean couldn't name flaring up in his mate's hazel-green circles.

„Down.", Deryl demanded. „On your knees … ALL of you."

The pack obeyed and let go of their weapons, throwing them towards the alpha, before they sank to their knees in surrender.

Sam's lips quivered and he shook his head. No … this couldn't be happening.

Deryl cocked an eyebrow and moved the gun's barrel towards Dean, aiming at his chest. „Guess I've to change my plans for the two of you, huh?" He looked from one wolf to another. „I'll take 'lil Sammy with me.", he smiled sweetly, „As an exchange …"

„You won't.", Dean hissed, „There's no way out. - You'll be dead either way."

Deryl chuckled and shook his head. „So will you ..."

Sam heard his captor cocking the weapon. He glanced at Deryl's finger on the trigger, saw him tightening his hold.

Sam caught Dean's gaze again for a split second, mouthing an „I love you", before he lunged for the man's weapon at the end of the outstretched arm.

Then things happened too fast – within just a single few seconds. Even too fast for werewolves senses …A shot rang out, as Sam held Deryl's arm and hand in a death-grip, tugging the arm and the gun down.

Surprised by his captives reaction he was caught in a moment of carelessness and Sam landed a pretty good hit with his elbow into the wolf's face.

Meanwhile Dean grabbed his gun from the dirty ground and tried to aim. But the two of them were too stricken into each other and Sam was in his line of fire all the damn fucking time.

Dean shared a look with his father – as long as the shock effect lasted they'd have a chance to get Sam away from the bastard.

They were about to lung for the two of them, as Deryl shoved Sam out of the way, who stumbled for a moment before he caught himself mid-fall. The alpha glanced at Sam triumphantly, the smile of a winner on his lips as something challenging flashed through his deep blue circles.

Instantly Sam knew what would happen, what'd come next. And he couldn't. He just couldn't let it happen … no way in heaven or hell … And before he even realized what he was doing, he took off at the very second he heard it …

The alpha cocked his gun aimed at the youngest Winchester and pulled the trigger within the very next moment. So did Dean. Cold blue eyes sparkling like crystals as Dean's eyes widened.

And before Dean knew what had hit him, he felt a heavy weight slamming into him, something wrapping around his torso in a death-grip and then he stumbled and fell backwards. Landing hard on his back, bumping his head and for a moment he wasn't able to breath. The impact, the weight upon his body had forced all oxygen out of his lungs and left him gasping for air. Making black dots dance before his eyes.

Moments that seemed like eternity passed, until he was able to suck in a wheezing breath, and then another one. But the weight on him wouldn't go away, the grip of whatever was holding onto him wouldn't disappear.

The first thing he heard were the yells and screams, someone calling for help, for the ambulance, for the antidote.

„Sam.", he croaked out, sucking in another breath – a deeper one this time. And it hurt. There might were a couple of cracked ribs, but sure as hell no bullet-wound. „Sammy."

Dean's grip around his gun eased and it slipped from his hand as he reached with his free one for whatever covered his body that made it hard to breath. His fingers touched soft fabric. But not the one of his own shirt … he'd feel it, wouldn't he?

His other hand found its way to something soft – like fur … like HAIR.

The Winchester tilted his head to the side, trying to steal a look at whatever had hit him. A dark mess of hair appeared in his peripheral vision and he gasped – all of a sudden breathless again.

Sam's head was resting in the curve of his neck. His mate's body covering him, holding him protectively.

Shielding him.

And that was when he felt the warm dampness and stickiness on the back of Sam's shirt against his palm. When he smelled the copper taste of blood in the air …

When he rose his limb to have a look at his in scarlet painted hand …

…... to be continued

well … i guess i'm almost done with this story … aren't I?

so … who of you's gonna leave me some bacon? (or my new favorite: peanut butter cups)?