Unfound

Chapter Eighteen

Sam was right. Somehow, Dean had convinced (or bullied) Mick into buying at least a hundred dollars' worth of snacks.

The British man didn't seem bothered by it all, though.

"Hey, Teddy, try the twinkies," Dean said, throwing a package back to his nephew. "I am sure that Harry didn't properly educate you on the awesomeness that is American snacks."

Teddy deftly caught the treats. "Thanks, Uncle Dean," he said. "Harry didn't – he thinks it's all rubbish, but Ben did a pretty good job when we were road-tripping."

Dean was still surprised to hear himself referred to in that way but did make his chest glow in a way that he didn't expect. "Good, raised that boy right then," Dean said gruffly. "Unlike this freak," he said indicating to Sam, "who only eats rabbit food."

"Dean, it's healthy."

"Dean, it's healthy," Dean mocked back at him. "I've said it before and I'll say it again, if it's bacon that kills me, that is a pretty damn good way to go."

Sam just rolled his eyes. "Hey, Mick, why don't you put on that podcast you were telling me about earlier?"

"It would be my pleasure," Mick said. "I really think that you will all enjoy this. Mr. Lupin, be sure to pay close attention. Mr. Ketch told me that you are sorely lacking knowledge in any history that wasn't covered at Hogwarts, and you'll never know when this might come in handy."

Dean bit back his remark on that, largely because of the pre-emptive bitch face that Sam shot him.

The podcast started.

What felt like approximately five hours later to Dean, the podcast continued to drone on. "In Luther's 27th thesis, the word "jingle" is an obvious nod to a canny 15th-century monk…"

"Had to let him listen to his podcast, huh?" Dean finally said.

"Dude, it's educational," Sam said. "And besides, I've been wanting to listen to this one."

"You know, monks like Martin Luther are among the earliest hunters. He even wrote parts of that book you're holding."

"What? This lore dates back to the 16th century?" Sam asked, surprised.

"Yeah. Well, in Europe, everything's old. Though we do have our fair share of new tricks for dealing with wolves – sulfate gas, silver nitrate lethal injection."

"Take a handful of silver bullets over any of that fancy crap," Dean said.

Ted went stock still. For the most part, he'd been happy to stay quiet in the back of the car, but he couldn't ignore the current conversation. He hadn't been briefed on what this hunt was on, but this couldn't possibly be for…

"Yes, well, thanks to that "fancy crap," Britain's last werewolf outbreak was in the '20s," Mick said, confirming Ted's suspicions. He felt nauseous. Mick kept talking. "We rooted them out, bitten and pureblood alike," he said proudly.

"Wait a second? You killed them all? Even the ones that weren't hurting anyone?"

"Sorry?" Mick asked.

"I mean, werewolves aren't like most monsters," Sam said. Ted had never felt so much fondness for his uncle before. "Some can control it. I mean we – we have a buddy got bit. Nothing but beef hearts ever since."

"Really?" Teddy asked eagerly.

Sam jumped. He had completely forgotten that Teddy was both there and who his father was. He was so used to thinking of Harry as the boy's dad that he hadn't given a second thought to this conversation.

Mick wasn't letting it go, though. "And you trust him?" he asked, disapproving. "Well, killing is a fundamental need for werewolves. And monsters don't just stop being monsters."

"Well, Garth did," Dean said, glancing in the rearview at Teddy. He had also not thought about his nephew's true parentage. He had learned a lot about Remus (more than he had wanted to, honestly) from Sirius in Purgatory. "And from what I heard, Remus never hurt a single person who he wasn't fighting in a war," he added.

"Remus? Founder of Rome?" Mick asked, confused. Sam glared at him.

"No. Remus Lupin."

"Oh," Mick clammed up for a second. "Right. Of course. Well, magical werewolves are different aren't they?"

No one in the car was convinced that he meant that.

"Oh, turn here," he said suddenly.

Dean listed and they pulled in front of a hotel. An actual hotel.

"This place, uh, seems a little…" Sam started.

"Shabby? Yeah. Three stars was the best I could do. Least our bean counters will be happy. Booked us all suites."

"Wait, you… We're in separate rooms?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, of course," Mick said as if that wasn't odd at all. "Except they didn't have enough for all four of us, so I booked a two-bedroom one for Mr. Lupin and myself. Don't tell me that Mr. Potter's trust keeps you on a shorter leash than he kept us on in his tenure at Head Auror? I rather thought that he would be the sort to keep you lads in the lap of luxury."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks.

"Teddy inherited most of his money," Dean muttered, not wanting to get into it with Mick.

It was true that Sam and Dean used credit cards that were paid for by Harry's bank accounts, but they had always treated them the same way that they treated the ones they had gotten through scamming credit card companies. It had never occurred to either of them to use more than they strictly had to in order to get by. It had never sat right with them – especially Dean, to profit from his death.

"Oh," Mick said. That directly conflicted with the information he had received on the Winchesters. But perhaps they just didn't want to talk about it in front of Ted Lupin.

"Well, I think that young Mr. Lupin and I should retire immediately. We both have reports to write."

Teddy's face fell. "What report?"

"I think at least two pages on what you learned from that Podcast I played earlier, should do," Mick said.

Teddy groaned.

"Oh, come on Professor X, you could give him the night off," Dean tried to argue.

"Mr. Winchester. We take the education of our operatives very seriously. Mr. Lupin is severely behind. Please do not interfere."

"It's fine, Uncle Dean," Ted said, not wanting to get in trouble with Ketch when they got back. The man scared him.

Dean gave him a searching look, before nodding. "Yeah, alright. Night." He'd try to figure out a way to talk to the kid privately later.

III

Dean felt more rested from the night than he thought he ever had at any of the crappy motels that he had spent most of his life inhabiting. He was joined by Sam outside, where they were waiting for the valet to bring the Impala around.

"Man, those pillows, right?" he said to Sam. "Those little chocolates that they put on? I mean, I'm ruined, Sam. Those limey sons of bitches ruined me. I even took a swim this morning."

"You brought a swimsuit?" Sam asked, surprised. He didn't even think Dean owned a swimsuit.

"No," Dean said, a little too proudly.

"Ugh."

"What'd you get up to?"

"I read through more of Mick's lore books," Sam said.

"Really?" Dean asked, disappointed. "Wow. Those three stars are wasted on you."

Sam ignored him, as he usually did. "Anyways, listen to this. It's crazy. So, apparently, back in the '30s, they were working on this treatment for werewolves. This, like blood therapy."

Mick came outside. "Plasma therapy," he corrected. "Useless, I'm afraid. So, how were the accommodations, lads?" He asked, hoping he had scored some points.

"I've had better night's sleep in my baby," Dean said gruffly as his car was parked in front of the hotel. He frowned at Mick. "Where's Teddy?"

"Mr. Lupin is not authorized for fieldwork," Mick said stiffly. "I have given him assignments to complete here at the hotel today."

"But…" Dean wanted to argue.

"No. None of us wish to be…what was the word he used…smote by Mr. Potter. So, we are not putting Mr. Lupin in on field missions until we can be one hundred percent sure of his safety."

"You can never be one hundred percent sure of the safety of a hunter," Sam said.

"Quite the point, isn't it?"

Dean didn't love that they were leaving Teddy behind, but, at the same time, it would be easier to do their jobs if they didn't have to worry about his safety.

"Get in," Dean said. "Let's go."

Sam looked back at the hotel, hoping that Teddy would be alright.

III

Claire wasn't supposed to be on a hunt. Jody thought that she was touring the campus of the University of Wisconsin. After she wrapped everything up here, she was going to have to take a little detour to take some pictures. It would be a pain in the ass, but it was worth it to make Jody think that she was safe and sound.

It wasn't like Claire was college material, in any case. Her education had been too interrupted by her father being possessed by an angel and then killed, her mother disappearing trying to find him, and her being bounced around in the system for years.

But the one thing that she was good at was hunting.

Currently, she was waiting around, hoping that the mother of the girl who had most likely been attacked by a werewolf would call her.

Her phone beeped and she got excited for a moment. Until she saw who it was from. That made her roll her eyes.

Ted 3:09
hey claire, sorry I've not been able to text in a while.

Claire 3:10
U R such a dork werent u dragged back to the UK?

Ted 3:10
for a bit. back now.

Claire 3:11
doin' what?

Ted 3:11
got a job

Claire snorted.

Claire 3:11
who'd hire a kid like u?

Ted 3:12
well, it is more of an apprenticeship

She was trying to think of a clever reply to that when one of the phones in her glove compartment started to ring. She excitedly dug through them to find the right one. 'Yes!' she thought.

"Hello? Uh, this is Agent Beatrice Quimby."

"Oh, thank God," came a goofy voice from the other end of the line. "There's a bear. It's the size of a freakin' tank!' The voice got even more ridiculous. "I think it wants my pic-a-nic basket!"

Claire knew exactly who it was. "Mm-hmm," she said. "Hi, Dean."

III

Dean had told her where to meet them. And, she had to admit, it was far nicer than any place she thought the Winchesters stayed in.

"So, Fish and Wildlife? Really?" Dean was asking her.

"Claire, what are you doing here?" Sam asked, always the more serious of the two.

"Same as you. Werewolf case."

A man she didn't know approached the table with four beers and put them on the table. "Now. Beers all around," he said proudly.

"Who are you?" Claire demanded.

"Oh. Mick Davies," he offered her his hand. She took it, amused. "Men of Letters. British," he said.

"Long story. And, like, Downton Abbey boring, so…" Dean said.

Claire reached forward for one of the beers, which Dean promptly took from her.

"No. Unh-unh."

Claire sighed. "Ok. Anyway… I've been on this a day. And guess what? The girl, Hayden? Her story about what happened the night of the attack? One big lie."

"Her mom said the same thing," Sam confirmed.

"Where was she?"

Claire was thrilled to be able to tell them this. The research she had done. "She was at the local dive bar, getting' trashed. I tracked her phone and asked around and… bartenders love me. It's a gift."

"Right. You get anything else?" Sam wanted to get all the information possible before calling Jody and getting Claire someplace safe and as far away from the British Men of Letters as possible.

"The guy I talked to was a scumbag. Tribal tat, motorcycle, grabby."

"Grabby?" Dean questioned, looking like he was ready to go have words with the bartender.

Claire scoffed. "I'm a big girl. I handled it."

Dean didn't look placated.

Mick stood up. "Right. Someone needs to check in on the young Mr. Lupin. Think I'm gonna call it a night."

Sam looked down at his watch. "Dude, it's 5:30."

"Yeah, but my report's due at 6:00 sharp. All work, no play," he said. "Nice meeting ya," Mick said.

"Teddy's here?" Clarie asked quickly after the man was out of earshot. "And you two know about it?"

"Yeah, we know," Dean said darkly. "He's working with Murder She Wrote."

"He did say that he had a job, but I never thought…wait, you're letting him hunt?" Her voice got a little higher at the end, in complete disbelief.

"Letting is a bit of a strong word," Dean grumbled.

"Dean…" Sam warned.

"What?"

"Yeah, what Dean? What is going on?"

"It's a long story, Claire," Sam said, sending a bitchface to Dean. (Shut the fuck up.) "Anyway, why are you alone?" he asked, trying to turn the attention off of their nephew and onto Claire. He was pretty sure that Jody would have no idea that she was here.

"Jody's busy with sheriff stuff," Claire obviously lied. "And she said to call if I found anything."

"So, you call her?" Sam questioned – eyebrow raised.

"You called first," she huffed. "And she's great, by the way. And so is Alex. Especially now that she doesn't have to worry about your castoff kids."

Sam flinched and Dean's expression turned hard.

"What?" She asked, not feeling even a little bad for being harsh with the two men. "So, should we go get Teddy and go to the morgue? Now that you're letting a kid like him hunt?"

"He's only a year younger than you, Claire," Sam pointed out.

"A year and a half," Claire argued.

"And the morgue's closed. So, take it easy, Clarice."

"By the way, when's the last time you had a hot meal that didn't come from a Gas-n-Sip microwave?" Sam asked, concerned.

"Not that there's anything wrong with that," Dean added.

"It's been a while," Claire admitted.

"Well," Dean said, grabbing a menu off the table between the two of them. "Go nuts. It's on Monty Python and the Flying Circus."

Claire laughed. "Cool."

While she was considering, Sam pulled Dean aside. "I think it's time we called Harry in," he said quickly and quietly to his brother.

"What? Why?"

"Because with Claire here we now have two kids to protect, and Teddy can apparate."

"So can you."

"Yeah. But I can do it like…once. And sometimes not even then. And…I know Mick hasn't been letting us see Teddy, but I can't imagine that he is handling the subject of this case well."

"Alright. Fine. You call him, I'm gonna talk to Claire to see if I can't get more information on this grabby bartender."

III

Mick carefully snuck out of the hotel from an exit that he knew that the Winchesters couldn't see, making his way to the front, where he could catch a cab to the hospital.

He didn't relish what he was about to do but he didn't see any way around it.

At least, that's what he told himself as he made his plans.

He was about to the cab stand, feeling full of regret that he had ever been found by the Men of Letters in the first place when he remembered that he no longer needed to just depend on himself.

Although his contact was sure to give him flack for recent events, he would prefer to get yelled at than to do what the code told him he must.

With only a couple more moments of hesitation, he pulled out his phone.

III

Teddy knew that he should be concentrating on this report. Compared to some of the things that Ketch had put him through, this was relatively painless, both physically and mentally.

But he couldn't stop thinking about the case.

"What about the ones that never hurt anyone?" Sam had asked about werewolves.

Mick's response had been chilling.

Blood status was something that had never been important to Teddy, but he had never been more grateful that his father had been born a pureblood wizard. Otherwise, if his father had suffered the same fateful bite, he would have been murdered. Painfully.

Remus Lupin at always been a somewhat mystic being in Teddy's life.

Harry had been adamant that they talk about the man often and that Teddy be allowed to ask as many questions about his biological father as he had wanted. His home had been filled with pictures and stories and Harry had shown him penseive memories.

But all of that had resulted in his father feeling more like a distant, far-off, hero to worship. Probably in a similar way that complete strangers looked at Harry with awe, that's how Teddy felt about Remus.

Harry spoke of Remus' condition and about how being a werewolf had shaped his father, but it held him down or back.

As Teddy got older, he was starting to wonder if it was all as rosy as Harry had painted it.

It wasn't until after Harry had died that the other students at Hogwarts had really glommed onto the fact that Teddy was a half-werewolf. Once the teasing had started, he had carefully started to avoid anything that may make him appear "wolfish" to unsuspecting eyes. No rare meat. Never getting aggressive or allowing anyone to see anything but a smile on his face. Using his powers to look more like his mum, or Harry, rather than Remus.

When he had come to the US to go hunting with Ben, he had been able to leave that all behind. Ben remained his only and best friend. (Although he wasn't counting his Weasley cousins, because they were family, not friends.)

He had forgotten how exhausting it was to constantly think of every word spoken and every facial expression shown. Until he had joined the Men of Letters. Until Arthur Ketch became a regular in his life.

It all came flooding back.

Teddy wasn't an idiot. He knew that Ketch had sent him on this case on purpose. And he didn't want to admit, not even to himself, that this was probably the outcome that Ketch wanted, and it was working.

He just wished that he could talk to his father about all of this. Or Harry even. Someone who would understand and not laugh or scoff at him.

As if he had heard that errant thought, Harry appeared in front of him seconds later.

"Harry!" He exclaimed, and then looked around anxiously, hoping that Mick was still out and didn't hear that. "What are you doing here?"

"You wanted me," Harry said to him. "I heard your prayer. Teddy, is everything ok?"

Teddy blinked at him. "I didn't…"

"Oh, I know, it wasn't a full prayer. You look upset, Teddy. Are you hurt? Sam and Dean texted me and said you were here, but they said that you were being kept out of the actual fieldwork." There was a warning in his voice that Teddy knew meant that he was doubting what his brothers had told him.

"Yeah, yeah, I've not left the hotel all day. Been stuck writing reports," he said, indicating to the typewriter that Mick had provided him with. It made him…slow….he wasn't used to using a keyboard instead of a quill. It was part of the tedium that felt like a punishment for some unknown crime. "Did, uh, Sam and Dean tell you what the case was about?"

Harry frowned. "No."

"They think there's been a werewolf attack."

Harry's face immediately turned to fury. "They put you on a werewolf case?"

"Yeah."

"Those wankers. Those gormless twats. How dare they?" He made a move as though he was going to leave the room and go find Mick and give him a piece of his mind, but Teddy shook his head frantically.

"No, Harry, it's fine. I understand. Muggle werewolves…they're different. More dangerous. But still…what would my dad think? His own son, hunting werewolves?" Teddy looked completely miserable.

Harry sighed deeply. "He would understand that this was all out of your control."

"Don't lie to me, Harry," Teddy said harshly. "He would be embarrassed. And…and…and ashamed," his eyes started misting.

"I'm not lying." Harry bent down to be at the same height as Teddy sitting on the chair at the desk. "Teddy…I got to spend a lot of time with Remus. And Tonks, when I was in Heaven."

Teddy looked up, surprised. "You did?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah. I was there for hundreds of years. I told them all about you. Every time I saw them, they asked about you. They love you very much and they can't wait to meet you someday. Some day very far in the future. They – leaving you was their biggest regret," Harry said. "But they died to make the world a better place for you. They wouldn't want you to spend your time worrying about what they think of you. Their love is unconditional."

It was taking all of Teddy's powers to keep from showing his emotions.

Harry's phone rang. He laughed a little. "It's Sam," he answered, "Hi, Sam."

"Hey, Harry," Sam's voice came through. "I think you should come in on this case. Things have…"

"Of course. Where are you?" Harry interrupted. Harry could almost hear Sam's surprise.

"Oh, uh, we're at the Elk Lodge…"

"No, specifically."

"Oh, um, just outside the hotel entrance?"

Harry put his hand on Teddy's shoulder and flew to where Sam said he was. Sam had been expecting it so he didn't flinch when Harry arrived. Although he had itched for his gun a little.

He hadn't been expecting Teddy too.

Harry noticed the surprise on Sam's face. "He prayed to me," he explained.

"Ah," Sam said. "Well, thanks for coming. Did Teddy already fill you in?"

"A little," he said. He wasn't going to share the private conversation that he had just had with his godson.

"How are things back at the Bunker?"

"Horrible," he responded. "We can't find anything about how to break a soul bond. There isn't much written about them at all. Which, I expected from wizarding texts, but I was hoping there would be more from the Earth witches."

"Harry! You said that you wouldn't go looking into it," Teddy complained. "I'm fine. You saw, Mick just left me in the hotel room all day."

"It's not your decision, Teddy," Harry responded sternly. "And, as far as you're concerned, I've dropped it completely. Am I understood?"

Teddy nodded.

"We'll figure it out," Sam said. "Come on, Dean, and I will catch the two of you up on the rest of this case."

The three of them walked in and Dean gave a little pleased face when he saw Harry and Teddy.

"You got here quick," he said. "But I didn't expect you to break Teddy out in the meantime."

"Teddy?" Claire asked and she quickly stood up and turned away from her chair. "Ted!" She cried out.

"Hey, Claire," he smiled.

She gave over and looked like she was going to hug him, but instead, she punched him on the arm. "You didn't mention you were working with the Winchesters. I thought they were the reason your grandma made you come home."

"He's not working with us," Dean said gruffly, handing the beer he had ordered for Harry to his brother. "He's working with the British Men of Letters."

"Ugh. Why?"

Teddy blushed. "It's a long story," he mumbled.

Claire accepted that it was something that Ted didn't want to talk about. For now. "Who's that?" she asked, looking at Harry. "Another exchange student?"

"Oh, no," Teddy said. "Claire – uh, this is Harry."

"Pleasure to meet you," Harry said, sticking out his hand. Claire didn't take it, just stared.

"Your Harry?" She asked in disbelief. She glanced at Sam and Dean to get confirmation. Both hunters gave her slight nods. "He's not dead?"

"Claire!" Sam reprimanded.

"What? I thought you said that he was dead and that's why you wanted to kill…" she stopped talking, realizing who was in the room.

"I was dead," Harry said. "But…uh, I'm back now."

"How?" Claire asked suspiciously.

"Claire, he's him," Dean said seriously. "Trust me, we tested him."

"How would you know?" Claire asked. "He's Teddy's godfather."

"And our brother," Sam said.

"Why don't we all sit down to discuss this?" Harry asked, not wanting this girl to cause a scene. She seemed completely dumbfounded.

She sat back in her chair and the Winchesters and Teddy followed suit.

"Dean's your brother," Claire said, as a statement of fact.

"Yeah. He is," Sam said. "And so is Harry. Teddy is our nephew. Which is why we were not pleased to hear that he was hunting or that you were helping him."

"Whatever. I just can't get over that you have a brother and you never told me," Claire said. "How is he your brother? He's British."

"I grew up in England," Harry said, while he sipped on the beer. "Not with Sam and Dean."

"Well, duh," Claire responded. "But…"

"He's our brother," Dean confirmed again when she looked at him to see if Sam and Harry were just crazy. He wasn't sure that it was wise to throw that information to just anyone, but he and Sam had discussed, at far too much length for his liking, the importance to allow Harry to be their brother whenever possible. Sam had some girly reason for making sure that Harry felt accepted by the two of them whenever possible.

"Like, biological brother? Not like a brother from another mother sort of deal?" Claire just couldn't wrap her head around it.

"Same parents, yeah," Sam said.

"How do you know Sam and Dean?" Harry asked, trying to move the conversation past who exactly he was.

"They helped an angel kill my dad," she said, bluntly.

Dean choked on his beer.

"What? Am I lying?" Claire challenged.

"Claire, you know that Castiel didn't kill your dad. That was Lucifer when he…" Sam started.

"Castiel?" Teddy asked. "Castiel killed your dad too?"

Claire's eyes snapped up. "Castiel was the angel you were trying to kill?" Her eyes were wide and panicked. "I wouldn't have given you that angel blade if I had known you were trying to kill Castiel! Please tell me you didn't…"

"He tried," Dean said.

"Ted…"

"I am so lost," Harry said, frustrated. "Why did you two kill Claire's father with an angel? And why, Claire, would you give my child a deadly weapon to kill an angel with you knew that could be a death sentence for him?"

"I'm not a child!" Teddy exclaimed at the same time that Claire made a series of protesting noises.

"Alright," Dean said. "Everyone just calm down," he was looking around at the people in the lobby who were watching this drama explode. "Let's go talk about this somewhere more private."

"Yeah, good idea," Sam agreed. Harry held out his hand in a gesture that Sam recognized to be one where he was about to take them all somewhere at once. "Do not fly us there," he warned. "We can take the elevator, like normal people."

"Fine," Harry huffed. "Lead the way."

III

A couple of minutes of tense silence later, the five of them were gathered in Sam's suite. No one was jumping to speak, so Sam sighed deeply, rubbed his temples, and decided to start a conversation that he was pretty sure was going to be a shit show.

"Claire's father was a man named Jimmy Novak," he said. He glanced at Claire to see if she was alright with this conversation. She didn't look thrilled, but she also didn't stop him, so he kept going. "He was the man who Castiel took as his vessel."

"But don't people have to say yes to allow angels to occupy their bodies?" Teddy asked. He had done some pretty extensive research on angels and all of it pointed to that the human vessels had to agree.

"He didn't know what he was getting into," Claire defended.

"To be fair, Cas didn't know what he was getting him into either," Dean said. "At least the first time."

"Right. So, when Lucifer exploded Cas, he killed Jimmy Novak," Sam said. "And when Chuck brought Cas back, he left Jimmy in Heaven."

"Chuck?" Harry asked.

"God."

"The prophet who wrote the Supernatural books is God?" Harry asked, incredulously. "Didn't you two threaten him?"

"That doesn't matter," Dean gritted out. There was no need to get into the whole Chuck fiasco here. "The point is that Claire is Jimmy's daughter, and after her mother died, Cas has been looking out for her. She lives with Jody, who will not be happy to hear that she is hunting on her own."

"Whatever," Claire said. "I told you, she's busy."

"Uh huh. And if I called and asked her about that…"

"Don't!" Claire said.

"That's what I thought," Dean said.

"Dean – we can talk about that later," Sam said, trying, as always, to keep the peace. "So, Harry, now you know who Claire is. I'm assuming that she felt sympathetic to Teddy's story of an angel killing his godfather."

"But I didn't know it was Castiel!" Claire argued. "I wouldn't have helped him kill Castiel."

"Right. Well, Claire, you remember what Cas was like when you first met him. He wasn't the same angel that he is now."

"He was a git," Harry provided.

"Yeah. He and Harry didn't get along. So, he killed Harry about five years ago," Sam went for the most simplified version of the story as possible.

"But he's here now," Claire pointed out. "Couldn't've been that bad if he's back."

"It's because he's an angel now," Teddy said.

Sam suppressed a groan. That was a whole other can of worms.

"An angel is using your godfather's body as a vessel?" Claire asked, horrified. "You two let an angel possess your brother?"

"No, no," Sam said. "Harry is still…Harry. He…"

"I have a human soul and angelic grace," Harry said, trying to help. "Technically speaking, this is a vessel. But it's the body that my soul came from so…"

"Wait – "

It took a lot more to fully explain the whole thing to Claire. Teddy stayed silent for most of it because he wasn't sure what he should or should not say. Claire was a Muggle, so she wasn't supposed to know about the wizarding world. It also seemed like a lot to get into now. His uncles and Harry seemed inclined to leave magic out of all of it.

An hour or so after they had all come up here, Claire seemed satisfied with all the answers she got. Or, maybe, just too exhausted to keep the questions coming.

"But why is he here now?" Claire asked, vowing that would be her final question.

"I prayed to him," Teddy said. "And he came."

"I also called him," Sam said.

"Why?"

"Emotional support," Harry supplied dryly.

Claire scoffed at the same time as Dean.

"Oh, and I'm pretty good in a fight," he said. "Which, by the way, you still haven't told me about. But it's late, and all of you need some sleep," he looked pointedly at Teddy, who looked like he was about keel over from exhaustion.

"I'm awake," Teddy slurred.

"Uh huh, I'm sure, Teds, but I'm really worried about Sam and Dean, you know they need their beauty sleep," Harry said, with a wink to his brothers.

Claire huffed at the ridiculousness of it all.

Teddy just nodded absently.

"I'm going to get Teddy back to his room," Harry said. He frowned a little. "Isn't he supposed to be here with Mick?"

"He is, but Mick went to bed hours ago," Sam said. "Right before you came."

Harry hadn't sensed the other man's presence in the suite that he had gotten Teddy from earlier. But he supposed it didn't matter – other than he was supposed to be looking after his godson.

He flew Teddy back to his room and made sure that he was alright (he fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow) before going back to Sam's room.

Claire was still there.

"You gotta place to stay?" Dean asked her.

"Yeah. Of course," Claire defended.

"That isn't your car?" Sam asked.

"I'm fine," Claire said.

"Why don't you just get her a room here?" Harry asked.

"Uh, Harry, this place is out of our normal price range," Sam reminded him.

"No, it isn't."

"How'd you know?" Dean asked. "Do you have to hustle pool to afford places like this? No, when the Spice Girls are paying, this is great, but…"

"You don't have to hustle pool either. Come on, Dean, I know how much was in the bank accounts I left you. I can't imagine that you've run through it all in the last five years," he said that even though he knew that Dean had been reluctant to use his money. He thought that Sam would have at least been the reasonable one that would see the practicality in legal money they could use.

Dean refused to respond to this.

"We don't touch your money, man, unless we have to," Sam finally said, flushing red.

"That's stupid, and you know it," Harry said.

"Uh, if you're offering a free place to stay, I'll take you up on it," Claire said.

Sam gave her a look.

"What? Sounds like your brother is a regular Daddy Warbucks. Why wouldn't you take advantage of that?"

"Why, indeed," Harry said. "I know you've got a credit card because I've taken your wallet before, Dean. One with your actual name on it. Just give it to me, and I'll get Claire set up, you two get some rest."

"Fine," Dean said, handing over his wallet. He didn't see the point in arguing about it now, and if he didn't get to bed soon, he was going to miss out on the four hours of sleep that he needed to function.

The three of them walked out together – Dean going back to his room, while Harry and Claire got on the elevator.

"So, what's your deal?" Claire asked.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I don't know what you're asking me."

Claire rolled her eyes. "You're this big, powerful angel, right? What are you doing slumming it down here?"

"My family is here," Harry said. "Why would I be anywhere else?"

Claire shrugged. The elevator dinged to indicate that they had arrived on the first floor.

"You're not going to kill Castiel are you?" She asked quietly.

"No," Harry responded, gently. "He's changed. And as long as he's not a threat to my family, Uncle Cas is safe from me."

Claire nodded with acceptance. She didn't say much to him until they had arranged a room for her and she was about to go up to it. "Where are you sleeping?" She asked. "Not that I care."

Harry gave her a small smile. "I don't need to sleep. And, if I do, I can go back to my room at the Bunker."

"Ok. 'Night then."

"Goodnight."

III

Harry did fly back to the Bunker after that. He was going to need a couple of hours of sleep soon – either that or some strong tea, but he was fine for now.

He was hoping that everyone would be asleep when he got back.

Ron was waiting for him in the map room, drinking some firewhiskey. It wasn't a good sign – Harry could tell how upset his best friend was.

"Hey Ron," Harry greeted. "Got any left for me?" He asked.

"Oh. Yeah, of course," Ron poured him a drink. "Does this even do anything for you now?"

"Not really," Harry said. "I like the taste though."

"Charlie was able to crack the files," Ron said. "And Harry – it's bad. It's really bad. Far worse than we thought it would be."

Harry's heart sank, but he wasn't exactly shocked.

"Tell me," he said.

"They've been doing…experiments," Ron said. "It's sickening. After the angels fell, they started with them, that's where this all came from. They've been extracting grace."

"For what?" Harry asked, horrified. "And is that even possible?"

"Yeah, it is. And, for the angels, they had enough grace to replenish. They got a lot out of them without killing any of them. Not that they didn't try – part of the experiments was to try and see how to kill angels without angel blades. They abandoned that research while the angels were skirmishing all over the place and dying, leaving them with plenty of blades. So, they changed course."

"To what?"

"They wanted to see how they use extracted grace to hurt wizards."

"They wouldn't dare," Harry said sharply.

"They dared."

"But why?"

"We're not sure yet what they hope to accomplish. But, Harry, the things they did. They've stepped things up since coming to the States. Those strings of disappearances that MACUSA has been dismissing? They've been taking witches and wizards and extracting magic – grace, from them until they die."

Harry sucked in a breath and stood up. "I'll kill them. All of them. I am the Angel of Death, after all, maybe it's time that I lived up to that title."

The look in his eyes, complete fury, was something that Ron had never seen. On top of that, the atmosphere in the room had become thick like at the height of a thunderstorm. He expected to hear a thunderclap and see a flash of lightning. If it had been anyone other than Harry, he would have been scared.

"You can't," came a soft voice from the doorway.

Ron sighed. "Luna, you need to sleep," he said.

"Nightmares," she said by way of explanation. "And you're one to talk, Ronald. Harry, you can't kill them."

"Why?"

"Because of the soul bond on Teddy," she said. "I've been researching while Charlie worked on breaking their files. The agreement he signed – it's ironclad. Arthur Ketch has domain over him. If he is killed by someone trying to void the contract while Teddy is still bound to him, Teddy will die too."

Harry took the firewhiskey glass he had been drinking from and threw it across the room. He could feel the rage boiling under his skin. It would only take seconds for him to get to the Men of Letters compound.

If possible, the air got thicker.

"Harry!" Luna barked out, a command evident in her tone. Ron looked at her like she was crazy, this seemed like it might be a moment to just let the angel do what he was going to do. But to his surprise, Harry stopped his movement. "Sit," she said. Harry sat. "Ron, make him a cup of tea."

Ron listened. He didn't know what this new side of Luna was, but he was impressed. He left the room as Luna started talking softly to Harry. He was going to have to ask her about that trick later.

He returned to the room with a cup of peppermint tea with just a slash of sugar to find Harry at least not outwardly seething.

"Did you cast some sort of spell on him?" Ron stage whispered as he put the tea in front of Harry.

"Of course not, Ronald. He just needed to be reminded."

"Reminded of what?"

"My humanity," Harry responded, sipping on the tea.

"No, not that," Luna frowned. "That you are more than your intentions."

Harry and Ron exchanged looks – neither had any idea what Luna was talking about. But they were both wise enough not to question her.

"So, we've established that Harry can't murder or torture them all, what are we going to do?"

The thought of any of them getting more sleep was abandoned for the rest of the night.

III

Dean had waited long enough. They had woken up to find that Harry had returned to the Bunker. To keep his visit hush-hush from Mick, he and Sam hadn't discussed it in the morning. They had split up – Claire was with Sam interviewing possible witnesses and he was stuck with Simon Cowell going to the bar.

"One second," Dean said to the man, before walking just out of earshot. He took his phone out and called Harry.

"Hey, Dean," Harry answered. He sounded…off. Dean was immediately concerned.

"You alright, man? We haven't heard from you all day."

Harry huffed into the fine. "I'm fi – "

"Don't say you're fine, dude."

"Alright. I'm not," Harry sighed. "But there isn't really anything to be done about that. Have you seen Teddy today?"

"No. He's still stuck on desk duty."

"Good. Look – Dean, there are some things that Luna and Charlie found out…it's bad."

Dean briefly glanced up at Mick who was still a distance away, pretending like he wasn't watching Dean.

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Like things that I'm not going to get into on the phone."

Dean started to protest.

"It's not a secret, Dean, just…too much for a phone call. We'll tell you and Sam about it when you get back to the Bunker."

Dean supposed that was fair. "Well, hopefully, we'll get this wrapped up quick. The girl who was attacked…she died last night."

"Be careful, Dean," Harry said. "They're capable of more than we thought they were. Also, I don't know where Mick Davies was last night, but it wasn't that room with Teddy."

That confirmed what Dean was suspecting. "Yeah. I've gotta go. Call if anything comes up?"

"Yeah. Will do."

Dean doubted that, but let it go. He hung up and went back over to the Brit.

"Dean, what happened back there…my mistake, it won't happen again," Mick apologized, referring to the fact that he had "missed" the werewolf bite that he must have found on the girl in the hospital. Dean repressed an eye roll.

"Better not," he warned.

Mick went to open the door but pulled his hand back. Dean didn't miss it.

"Problem?"

"The old carpal tunnel," Mick said as a way of explanation.

"Well, allow me, your lordship," Dean said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Thanks."

Dean opened the door and they entered the bar. The bartender was unpacking bottles from a box.

"Howdy," Dean greeted, showing his FBI badge. "Agent Strummer. This is Agent Vai," he said indicating to Mick.

"Uh, hi," the bartender said. Mick put his phone on the bar with a picture of Hayden on it.

"Do you recognize this girl? She was here three nights ago?" Mick asked.

The bartender shrugged. "Yeah. Not really."

"Yeah," Dean started casually, "I'd lie if I served underage girls too," he stared at the kid pointedly.

"Look, man, I…" he sighed, "I really need this job, I…" Dean continued to stare. "She started coming in a few weeks ago after Conner got hired."

"Conner?" Mick asked.

"Yeah, the other bartender. They're having a thing."

"What kind of thing?" Dean asked.

The door opened and a man with a tribal tattoo on his neck came in.

"Ask him," the bartender said, nodding to him.

"Hi, Conner," Dean said, turning his attention. "Oh. Nice ink. So, you like high school girls, do you? Hmm?" Conner looked surprised and confused. "You get older and they stay the same age. Is that it?"

"That's not how it was," he insisted.

"Oh, so you weren't dating Hayden Foster?" Mick asked.

"Dating? No, I let her in from time to time. She is stupid hot. Ok? But that's it. I swear."

"And the night she got attacked, did you let her in that night, too?" Dean asked in his don't-mess-with-me voice.

"Look, I don't know what happened. I was behind the bar the whole night. I didn't even see her leave."

"Hmm. And then what'd you do?"

Conner looked back and forth between Dean and Mick. "I guess I went home?"

"You guess?" Dean pressed. "Well, it's a simple question, Conner. I ask you what you were doing, then you tell me. For instance, what were you doing last night?" He turned his attention to Mick.

"Me?"

"Yeah."

"Oh," he seemed flustered. "I was writing my report."

"And then?"

"Well, I watched an episode of The Great British Bake Off and went to bed."

"Ha! See? Simple."

"I went home, man," Conner said defensively. "And I didn't do anything to that girl, ok?"

"Yeah, well, we'll see." Dean got up to leave before turning back. "Oh, one more thing. Did you happen to meet a, uh, blonde girl the other night? About yay high. Feisty?"

"Yeah, yeah," Conner confirmed. "Said she was Hayden's cousin. Crazy bitch threw a beer at me."

"Huh. Well, from what I heard, you earned it."

"What are you, her dad?" He scoffed. "Dude, come on. Girls like that? Yeah."

"You ever touch her again," he leaned in close to Conner's ear, and in an all-too-calm voice said, "I'll break your face." He turned around and left the bar, Mick trailing behind him. "Nice work in there," he said to Mick.

"Thank you," Mick smiled.

"Yeah, that alibi – I almost bought it," Dean said.

"Sorry?"

Dean stopped and turned to face Mick. "See, here's the thing about 16-year-old girls, especially 16-year-old freshly minted werewolf girls – they don't just die. And you've been acting sketchy all day."

"Oh, I don't know what you're talking about."

Dean grabbed Mick's hurt shoulder and squeezed it.

"Oh!" He groaned.

"What did you do to her?"

"I did what needed to be done," Mick said, not a hint of remorse in his voice.

"And that means?"

Mick grunted. "Last night, I injected her with silver nitrate."

"So, you killed her?"

"Well, she attacked me. She tore up my shoulder and…I had orders."

"You had a choice," Dean said hardly.

"Did I? Killing monsters is what we do. Or maybe palling around with demons and witches, you've forgotten," Mick spat.

"Don't tell me how to do my job."

"Well, then do it."

"You think it's that simple, huh?"

"I really do."

"Yeah? I used to think the same thing. Well, here's a little tip. Things aren't just black and white out here. All you have is a case in front of you, like Hayden. A few months ago, there was this kid, this psychic. She was killing people, but she didn't mean to hurt anyone. She was being abused. So, we gave her a second chance because it was the right thing to do."

"Well..." he grunted, "that's your luxury. We have a code." Mick hoped that Dean bought the story. His survival, for now, depended on it.

"Well, now Hayden's mom, she gets to bury two kids instead of one, thanks to you and thanks to your code. Nice work." Dean walked away.

III

"What happened?" Teddy asked, in horror, when his uncles and Mick Davies returned to their hotel room with Claire, who had to be carried in by Sam.

He had spent all day doing research and writing papers, doing his best not to think of Harry so that his godfather didn't come back. He also had resisted the urge to call Sam and Dean to see what was going on.

"She got bitten," Dean growled out.

"No!" Teddy said.

"Yeah, look, Teddy, we need you to get out of the way," Sam said as gently as he could as he maneuvered Claire onto a bed.

He sat at her bedside while she slowly awakened and his uncles and Mick talked in the other room. He couldn't believe that he had been on desk duty all day when he could have been with her, protecting her.

"Ted?" She asked.

At the sound of her voice, Sam and Dean came running over. Dean leaned over and touched her forehead.

"We gotta cool her off," he said. "She's burning up."

Mick was grabbing a blanket. "No. No, no, keep her warm," he contradicted as Sam glared at him.

"Back off," he growled.

"Shut up," Dean said.

"Look, I understand that you're angry – "

"Mick, you killed a kid. We're not angry. We're done!" Sam snapped. Teddy looked between Mick and Sam with wide eyes. He sensed that now was not the time to ask.

"How long have I got until…" Claire asked, sounding scared.

"Sometimes it takes a full moon," Sam said, gently. "Sometimes it just takes time."

Claire wiped tears from her eyes. Dean kneeled in front of her. "Hey. Hey, listen to me. Look, nobody said this was gonna be easy, ok? But you can live with this."

"No way," she disagreed.

"Hey. Look, so you – you have to stay locked up a few nights out of the month, ok? The rest of the time, you're you."

"Unless I break out," she whispered. "Maybe some people can control this, but I can barely keep it together on a good day. So, if there's any chance I could hurt Jody or Alex… or anyone. I'd rather die."

"Wait!" Teddy said. "Wait. I read something earlier. Uncle Sam, check this out," he grabbed one of the books that he had spent all day reading and shoved it at his taller uncle.

Sam quickly read and his eyes lit up. "Yeah, this is what I was talking to Mick about earlier. A blood therapy."

"I told you," Mick said, "it doesn't work."

"It says right here, uh, 1 in 9 test subjects were cured."

"Cured?" Claire asked with hope.

"Yes," Sam said, continuing to read.

"That study was on mice."

Dean stood up and got in Mick's face. "You want to tell me what the hell he's talking about?"

"We experimented with the blood of sire werewolves. And we found it was possible to reverse the early stages of lycanthropy…in rodents."

"So, you never tested it on humans?" Sam asked.

"Once."

"And?"

"The subject died in agony. Sorry."

"Yeah," Claire said dryly. "Maybe second time's a charm."

"No!" Dean and Teddy said at the same time.

"You don't get a vote in this," Dean said gruffly.

"It's my life. I get all the votes," Claire responded.

"Sam, you wanna back me up here?"

"It's her life," Sam agreed with her.

Dean looked pissed and turned back to Mick. "I bet you think this is a great solution. Hmm? It works, or she dies. Either way, one less monster, right?"

"I don't think there are any great solutions here," Mick said quietly.

Claire started to cry softly. "Dean…Please? I can't."

"All right," Dean said. "If we do this – if…how do we get it done?" He asked.

"No!" Teddy argued again. "Listen, Claire, my…"

"We need blood," Mick cut him off with a glare. "Live blood, from the werewolf that bit her."

"Good. Great. Who we lookin' at?"

"Tribal tat. Back at the bar. We shook him down about Claire, and right after, she gets bit. That's not a coincidence."

"Timeline fits, connection to both victims," Sam said.

"Then we should go. The full moon rises in less than an hour. And if she turns and feeds, our cheery success rate drops to zero."

"Let's go," Dean said. Sam, Dean, and Mick walked towards the door. Dean turns and stops Mick. "Not you. You stay with her."

"You trust him?" Sam asked, surprised.

"Mick's a smart guy. So, when I saw that if anything happens to her, and I mean anything…"

"You'll kill me," Mick replied.

"But Teddy…" Sam said.

"I want to stay here with Claire," Teddy said.

"And, I'm pretty sure that soul bond will know that I've killed Mick in defense of Claire, not Teddy. Maybe solve all our problems tonight," Dean said. "So, like I said, smart."

"Sam, if you're not back…" Claire said.

"We'll be back. Look out for her Ted," Sam said. Teddy gave him a solemn nod and felt a rush of warmth knowing that he was being trusted with this.

Sam and Dean left.

Claire started pacing.

"It's ok, Claire, I promise, we'll fix this," Teddy said.

"Ted, this may not be fixable," she said. "And I can't – I can't hurt you. You should go."

"No," Ted said. "No way. If anyone is equipped to help, it's me."

"Why's that?" Claire asked. "You're just a kid."

Teddy's face hardened. "I know how to protect myself from werewolves."

"You've never hunted them before, though!"

"Mr. Lupin…" Mick started. Teddy shut him down with a look.

"No. But my dad was a werewolf."

"What?" Claire asked. Whatever she had been expecting to hear, it hadn't been that. "Harry's a werewolf?"

"No. No – not Harry. My real dad. He died when I was a baby."

"But…that's not possible. Wouldn't that make you a werewolf too?"

"Only purebred werewolves birth other werewolves," Mick said, sharply, attempting to cut this conversation short. He wasn't authorized to reveal the existence of the Wizarding world to a Muggle. "Mr. Lupin's father was bitten. Like you."

"But like, after you were born?"

Teddy shook his head. "No. He was bitten as a child."

"But…"

"Claire, there's something I have to tell you. Something I should have told you ages ago, but I didn't…I mean, I don't…"

Claire suddenly doubled over in pain. "Aah! It hurts," she called out. She grabbed her shoulder and went over the to mirror. Slowly and carefully, she pulled her bandage back. The wound disappeared in front of all their eyes. She went to grab a gun from the table.

"Accio," Teddy said quickly, before she could, summoning the gun to him.

"What? How?" She shook her head. "Give me the gun, Ted."

"No," he said.

"You don't understand! It's happening! Give it to me."

"No," he repeated, stubbornly.

"Then give it to the douchebag. Ted, please. You don't understand how this feels."

"Mr. Lupin, perhaps you should give me the gun," Mick said.

He shook his head and pointed his wand at Mick.

"You know what happens if you use magic again me, Ted," he said, warning in his voice.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know, but maybe it's worth it."

Mick sighed. "I know a man who would shoot you right now without a moment's thought. And every instinct I have says he's right…that I ought to do my duty. But…but my instincts haven't been so grand of late. Ted, give me the gun, you need your wand arm. I promise I won't shoot unless it's for protection."

Teddy vanished the gun.

Mick stared at him.

Ted shuddered at the pain that passed through him for disobeying a direct order. He did his best to keep a straight face as it felt like someone was squeezing his bones.

"Here's what we're gonna do," Mick said, deciding not to say anything, for now. "We're going to restrain you. For our protection. And sedate you. Also, for our protection. With any luck, when you wake up, this will all be over."

"If I wake up," Claire said.

"You'll wake up," Teddy said. "Sam and Dean will be sure of it."

There was a large bang and the door blew back as a masked figure stormed in.

"Claire, Ted, get back!" Mick called out as he rushed the man. As if it were nothing, Mick was thrown across the room. Claire threw a glass vase at him. The guy pulled his mask off, but while he did so, Teddy shot a stunner at him.

He stumbled but didn't go down.

"Stupefy," Teddy said, hoping that doing the spell verbally would increase its power. And it did. The man went down.

"Ted?" Claire asked, looking freaked out. "What…"

Teddy panicked. His body was still coursing with pain from his disobedience. He stunned Claire too. She went down without a problem.

III

Sam and Dean came running back to the hotel room when they realized that Connor, the douche with the tribal tats, wasn't the werewolf.

The sight of a torn-up door made them both pull out their guns and surge forward quickly.

What they saw inside, surprised them.

Mick was unconscious, on the ground. The bartender was bound in chains in the corner and Claire was also passed out – but laid out on the bed. Teddy was crouched in the corner, shaking.

"Teddy!" Sam called out. "What happened?"

Mick started to groan on the floor.

Teddy wasn't responding to Sam. "What did you do?" Dean barked at Mick.

Mick was suddenly alert. "I didn't…"

Dean crowded in on him, "What. Did. You. Do. To. Our. Nephew." There was an underlying fury in his tone.

Mick glanced over at the cowering kid, who Sam was still trying to soothe.

"Oh. Mr. Lupin, thank you for vanishing the gun. That's what I needed you to do."

Teddy slumped over as the pain left.

"What the hell?" Sam asked.

"It's the soul bond," Mick said. "I didn't realize…"

"Oh, you're gonna…"

"Guys, the potion, for Claire," Teddy said. "Quick, before he wakes up again."

If there had been time for it, all three men would have felt ashamed that they had to be reminded of their task by a teenager.

"This the guy?" Dean asked.

"Think so…it took two stunners to take him down," Teddy said.

"You did this?" Dean was surprised. And proud.

Teddy blushed. "Yeah."

"Nice," with his gun, he fired a single silver-bulleted shot into the bartender's head.

Mick was over at the werewolf and he took out a needle and used it to draw blood from him.

Sam was busy mixing things in a bowl.

Claire started to stir.

"Quickly!" Mick said.

The two of them hurried as they got everything together. The syringe was ready and Sam approached Claire with it.

"Wait, Sam, are we sure?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, Dean, it's what she wants," Sam said.

He injected her with the solution.

Claire started convulsing on the bed. Sometimes she growled. Sometimes she whimpered.

They all stood and watched, breaths baited.

Eventually, the snarls ceased and Claire went still. She opened her eyes.

"You guys look like crap," she said, looking up at them all.

There was a collective sigh of relief.

"Uh, Ted, what was that thing you wanted to tell me?"

III

The ride back to the Men of Letters compound was silent. No podcasts. No rock. Silence as all four men thought hard.

"Ted, go to your room," Dean ordered.

"But…"

Dean gave him a look. "You did good work, kiddo. But the grownups need to talk. We'll see you soon."

Teddy just nodded.

"Call Harry, tell him so that he doesn't yell at us when we get back," Sam suggested.

He brightened a little at the suggestion and gave both his uncles quick hugs before running off.

"Look, thanks for the win back there," Sam said. "If something had happened to Claire…"

"So, we're good?" Mick tried.

Dean's face hardened. "No. Not while you still have our nephew bound. What the hell was that?"

Mick hesitated. "If…if he ignores or defies a direct order – the bond…reminds him of what he has to lose."

"His magic? He was in pain because he was losing his magic?" Sam asked, horrified.

"Yes," Mick admitted. "Look, I want you to know…"

Dean shoved him against the Impala. "No. We want you to know any damage that Teddy suffers. Any. Physical or psychological…"

"You'll kill me?" Mick asked, with a huff of annoyance.

"Oh, it's not us you'll have to worry about in that case," Sam said.

Dean smiled unpleasantly. "Our brother is unforgiving when it comes to his family," he said. "And once this year is up…" He let the threat hang in the air.

Mick gulped.

"Don't mess up again," Dean warned.

He and Sam got into the Impala and drove off.

AN – This is the last of the SPN episode content heavy chapters for a while. I thought this one was particularly interesting to adapt because of the werewolf angle. Also, I don't think I intended for Teddy to be as big of a character as he has ended up being!

Things are also about to take a turn towards the darker. I've added some new tags – please heed them.

As always, thank you to everyone who engages with me – those comments and reviews coming in are my favorite part of the week.

Until next week!