CHAPTER 11

It took us hours to get Reverend Jim's body out of the living room and clean up the mess. Sam and I rolled him up in the large, blood-soaked rug that he was lying on and carried him out the back door. We would have a proper send off for him later. The longest part of the clean up was scrubbing the blood off of the walls and ceiling. The spray was so fine that the walls looked pink from a distance. I played hell trying to get it off the wallpaper. There wasn't much we could do about the furniture, but cover it with sheets until it could be replaced.

"I think that's the best it's ever gonna get, Dean", Sam said as he threw the last sheet over the loveseat. "How do you wanna handle the Reverend's service? A straight up public funeral? Salt and burn? What?" He turned and looked at me and I had to look away. Why was he looking to me for answers? I didn't want this responsibility! But I was the Alpha of this pack now. Sam wasn't a werewolf, but he seemed to sense the shift of leadership in the pack hierarchy anyway.

"Probably a private salt and burn, but I wanna run it by Bess anyway." I rubbed my palms over my face and headed for the stairs to talk to her and to check on Garth. He looked terrible when I saw him last. I hoped he would recover. I didn't think Bess could handle another loss right now. I knocked softly on the bedroom door and stuck my head in when I heard Bess invite me in. "Hey, Bess! How's our patient doing?" Bess was sitting on the edge of the bed wiping Garth's sweaty forehead with a wet washcloth.

"He's running a fever", Bess whispered, pushing his damp hair away from his face.

"Do I need to get something to bring the fever down?", I asked, concerned for my friend and pack mate. He was my responsibility now.

"Thank you, but no. It's normal for Lycanthropes to run a fever when trying to heal themselves from severe injuries." She turned and smiled at me before returning to wet the cloth in a basin on the nightstand then ring it out and lay it across his forehead. "He'll be as good as new in a few days."

"Bess, I'm sorry I brought this on you." Bess stood up, turned to face me, and put her hands on her hips. Her head tilted to the side and she shot me a perturbed look, narrowing her eyes. "What?"

"Now, Dean Winchester, you stop that right this instant!" She stalked toward me and I took a step back thinking she was gonna let me have it. Not that I didn't deserve it, but still... But instead of hitting me, Bess wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pulled me into a tight hug. "We're family, Dean", she whispered in my ear. "We don't turn away family." She kissed me gently on the temple before pulling away, walking back over to the bed, and sitting down next to her mate again.

"Um... Bess?", I croaked, knowing that the next part would be hard on her. "We need to talk about your father." She turned again and I saw the pain in her eyes again and I had to swallow hard before I could continue. "What you want to do for his service." She looked back at Garth and I could see her trying to remain composed but I could tell it wasn't easy for her. "I know you got a lot on your plate right now and Sammy and I can take care of it, but I didn't want to do anything without asking you first."

"What did you have in mind?", Bess asked without turning to face me.

Well, I... I was thinking about giving him a hunter's send off." I looked down at my feet as I spoke, afraid that she would laugh at the idea. "We salt and burn the... the body on a wooden pyre. I know he wasn't a hunter, but..."

"I think he would like that, Dean." When I looked up, Bess was smiling at me with tears pouring down her face. "I have to take care of Garth, so I won't be able to be there, but I know you'll do right by him. Thank you."

"Yeah! Of course!", I said, backing out the door and closing it. When the door closed, I heard a quiet sob and it broke my heart. The things you hear when your hearing is 100 times more acute than any human's. But I couldn't let it effect me right now. I had too much to do. And I had to be strong if I was gonna get my mate back. She was counting on me. I walked back down stairs and found Sam sitting at the dining room table, picking at his fingernails. He stood up when I walked into the room and looked at me with concern.

"How's Garth? Any improvement?"

"Bess says he's running a fever", I said, rubbing the tiredness out of my eyes.

"What?! Is he OK?!" Sam stared back at me with wide, fearful eyes.

"Yeah, Sam! Bess said that's normal for were... uh... Lycanthropes..." (I was never gonna get used to that word) "...to run a fever when they're trying to heal from bad injuries. She said he'd be OK in a couple days."

"Oh", Sam said with a relieved sigh. "That's good to hear."

"Yeah, but that means you and I are gonna have to take care of the funeral for Reverend Jim. Bess can't leave Garth right now." I started toward the back door and Sam followed, but i turned around and stopped him short. I reached into my jacket, pulled out my keys, and tossed them to Sam. He looked from me, to the keys, and back at me again with a confused look on his face. "Do me a favor and pull baby around to the back of the house, OK?"

"Yeah, ok! Sure!", Sam breathed, before doing an about face, moving through the kitchen and into the foyer. I didn't move until I heard the screen door slam. I sprinted through the kitchen and up the stairs to my and Lydia's room and pulled open the top drawer of my dresser. I dug through the socks and underwear until I found the little velvet bag that I was looking for. That little black bag brought back the memory of the night Reverend Jim gave it to me.

"These are for you and Lydia, Dean", he said one evening while we were all getting up from the dinner table. We had just finished a giant meal of cow hearts and I was picking up our plates to take to the sink(it was my and Lydia's turn to wash the dinner dishes). He handed me 2 small black velvet bags and I looked up at him in confusion.

"What's this?", I asked, handing one to Lydia.

"Why don't you open it and see." He just sat in his chair at the head of the table and waited with a wide grin on his face. Shrugging, I pulled on the little silk string holding the bag closed. I reached in only to jerk my hand back out in a hurry. I swear something inside there burned my fingers!

"What the Hell was that?!" I looked down into the bag and saw something metallic shining in the overhead light. I dumped the bag out on the table and out came a small silver bullet on a gold chain.

"You and Lydia are part of this family now, Dean", the Reverend said softly. Lydia smiled and opened her bag and pulled the necklace out by the chain. Bess had told her about the meaning of their silver bullets and was fascinated by the story. The chain was long enough for her to slip it over her head and when she tucked it into her blouse, she flinched at the burn and gave a small groan as it touched her skin.

"Are you alright, Lydia?", I said, moving to her side. She looked up at me and smiled, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Yes, Alpha. I'm wonderful!" She peeked around me and smiled at Reverend Jim. I looked over at the reverend and he was smiling too. But I didn't feel like smiling.

At the time, I still hadn't really accepted what had happened to me, and to me that bullet just represented aspects of my life that I couldn't control. But now, it was everything. What I was, what I am, and what I will become. I don't know why it took me so long to see it.

"Dammit, old man! I wish you were here to tell me what to do!", I whispered as I pulled the chain out of the bag and slipped it over my head and tucked the bullet into my shirt. At first the pain was exquisite and I winced at the sudden burn. But then it dulled into a mild discomfort. I threw the bag back in the drawer and ran downstairs and out the back door to meet Sam and prepare for a hunter's funeral.

An hour later, Sam and I were standing in front of a blazing pyre watching the man that had spent the better part of a month trying to teach me how to be a werewolf and control myself and I still felt like I was drowning. And now my brother wanted me to turn him and teach him to control himself in less than a week? I was in way over my head here. And as if he could read my thoughts, Sam brought up the one topic I didn't want to discuss right now.

"It needs to be tonight, Dean", Sam breathed just loud enough to hear over the crackling of the funeral fire. The two words that came out of me shocked Sam enough that he just stood there gawking at me in surprise.

"I know."