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katikatTitle: Five Times the Winchesters Were Werewolves, part 2
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
katikat
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and Eric Kripke.
Genre: Gen
Words: Almost 1000
Warnings: None
Rating: PG-13
Notes: My big thank-you goes to my wonderful betayami_tai!
Notes2: Yeah, this is a continuation of my Were!chesters drabbles. This time a bit longer.
Part 1
Sam doesn’t have the stomach to kill rogue weres, no matter how evil they are. He says that it feels too much like killing a human being, someone of the same species. And that’s always been a taboo for him.
So whenever they come across a renegade werewolf, Dean hunts alone. It’s much more dangerous and Sam does always offer to go with him but Dean is determined to keep Sam safe – because a reluctant hunter is a dead hunter. For Dean, anyone who doesn’t belong to his pack, is fair game. And if it maybe pains him too, if it makes his heart ache and his stomach roll, he keeps it to himself.
But when Dean returns back to their motel room, to their car or to any other place they call their temporary base but never home, cut and bloody after a terrible but victorious fight, Sam is always there, with his gentle hands that sooth Dean’s pains and stitch his wounds and the last sliver of innocence that Sam has managed to keep just a little while longer makes Dean feel his sacrifice is worth it.
---
Dean hasn’t felt such a pain since that crazy were in Minnesota almost tore him apart. The demon with their Dad’s face left deep, bleeding claw marks on his chest.
He feels Sam lifting him, sliding behind him, resting him against that broad chest. He hears his brother and his Dad talking about blood loss and hospitals in hushed voices and he thinks: No, no hospitals, they are not for people like us who turn feral when their body weakens.
But Sam murmurs some nonsense to him and then he feels his brother drawing strange symbols on his skin with Holy water. And suddenly, he is a prisoner of his own body, unable to shift, unable to take on animal form. He whimpers, eyes squeezed shut, back arching - it feels like he can’t breath and his skin is too small for him.
Sam runs his hands up and down his trembling arms, trying to calm him down, promising in a soft voice: “It’s okay. I know. It’s okay. It’s only for a little while. I promise.” Then he chuckles. “We can’t have you scaring the doctors, can we?”
And Dean thinks, To Hell with the doctors, but then the blood loss and the pain catches up to him, the sounds retreat and he slumps in his brother’s arms, trusting that Sam’ll take care of him, that he’ll keep him safe.
---
“This is a new low, even for us,” Sam mutters. He pushes his sunglasses up his nose and joins the long queue leading up to the court house and the metal detectors.
His brother pads beside him in his wolf form but the snort he gives, sounds almost human. Sam can almost hear his thoughts: Dude, and how do you think I feel?
Sam shoots Dean a side glance and feels almost sympathetic. Almost. Because all this was Dean’s idea in the first place. And then he remembers how it went…
“Dude, you have to be kidding me,” Sam hisses as he eyes the harness and all the other accessories Dean got from God knows where.
Dean gifts him with his blinding smile, all teeth and sparkling eyes. “It’s the perfect idea. I rock, man!”
Sam stares at his brother, like he finally lost his mind. “You want us to go in as a blind guy with a guide dog?”
“Don’t say I’m no genius. The cops are looking for two guys, not for a blind dude with a dog.”
Sam covers his eyes with his hand and groans. Only his brother.
And the cops even hold the door for them!
---
“Sammy, get out of those clothes!”
Sam drips with river water, his soaked clothes already stiffening with frost, and his teeth chatter so loud that he almost doesn’t even hear his brother. He stands there, his eyes blank, his mind still full of the black dog they chased.
In the end, Dean loses his patience with him and starts tearing the wet clothes from his body. Sam finally gets what his brother wants from him and tries to help, but his numb fingers mostly get in the way.
The jeans, the shirt and everything else ends up in a messy pile and Sam stands there naked and pale and he shivers so hard that his whole body shakes as if having a seizure. He notices dully that Dean is stripping too but his mind is too muddled for him to…
“Shift!” Dean snaps loudly.
Sam frowns. “Huh?”
“For Christ’s sake, Sammy.” Dean catches Sam’s face in both of his hands, looks him directly in the eyes and repeats, slowly and clearly. “Shift. Into. Your. Wolf form. Now… Or I swear to God I’ll kick your ass!”
Oh, I can do that, Sam thinks and lets the beast within free…
And when finally the morning comes, it finds two wolves curled up together under the low hanging branches of an evergreen, sleeping off their night’s adventure, warm and cozy.
---
Dean sits in the passenger seat, shifting very carefully so as to not scratch the upholstery with his wolf claws. He has his head stuck out of the rolled down window and as the landscape blurs by, he squints his eyes against the wind, ears flattened, tongue lolling. He looks relaxed, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Dude, you’ll swallow a bug or something,” Sam warns from behind the wheel but secretly, he is delighted to see his brother like this, untroubled and happy.
Dean huffs and Sam would bet that it was meant to be a rude comment of some sort.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Sam adds in a singsong voice.
Just a normal day for two werewolves and one Impala on the road.
The End
Author:
katikatDisclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and Eric Kripke.
Genre: Gen
Words: Almost 1000
Warnings: None
Rating: PG-13
Notes: My big thank-you goes to my wonderful beta
yami_tai!Notes2: Yeah, this is a continuation of my Were!chesters drabbles. This time a bit longer.
Part 1
Sam doesn’t have the stomach to kill rogue weres, no matter how evil they are. He says that it feels too much like killing a human being, someone of the same species. And that’s always been a taboo for him.
So whenever they come across a renegade werewolf, Dean hunts alone. It’s much more dangerous and Sam does always offer to go with him but Dean is determined to keep Sam safe – because a reluctant hunter is a dead hunter. For Dean, anyone who doesn’t belong to his pack, is fair game. And if it maybe pains him too, if it makes his heart ache and his stomach roll, he keeps it to himself.
But when Dean returns back to their motel room, to their car or to any other place they call their temporary base but never home, cut and bloody after a terrible but victorious fight, Sam is always there, with his gentle hands that sooth Dean’s pains and stitch his wounds and the last sliver of innocence that Sam has managed to keep just a little while longer makes Dean feel his sacrifice is worth it.
---
Dean hasn’t felt such a pain since that crazy were in Minnesota almost tore him apart. The demon with their Dad’s face left deep, bleeding claw marks on his chest.
He feels Sam lifting him, sliding behind him, resting him against that broad chest. He hears his brother and his Dad talking about blood loss and hospitals in hushed voices and he thinks: No, no hospitals, they are not for people like us who turn feral when their body weakens.
But Sam murmurs some nonsense to him and then he feels his brother drawing strange symbols on his skin with Holy water. And suddenly, he is a prisoner of his own body, unable to shift, unable to take on animal form. He whimpers, eyes squeezed shut, back arching - it feels like he can’t breath and his skin is too small for him.
Sam runs his hands up and down his trembling arms, trying to calm him down, promising in a soft voice: “It’s okay. I know. It’s okay. It’s only for a little while. I promise.” Then he chuckles. “We can’t have you scaring the doctors, can we?”
And Dean thinks, To Hell with the doctors, but then the blood loss and the pain catches up to him, the sounds retreat and he slumps in his brother’s arms, trusting that Sam’ll take care of him, that he’ll keep him safe.
---
“This is a new low, even for us,” Sam mutters. He pushes his sunglasses up his nose and joins the long queue leading up to the court house and the metal detectors.
His brother pads beside him in his wolf form but the snort he gives, sounds almost human. Sam can almost hear his thoughts: Dude, and how do you think I feel?
Sam shoots Dean a side glance and feels almost sympathetic. Almost. Because all this was Dean’s idea in the first place. And then he remembers how it went…
“Dude, you have to be kidding me,” Sam hisses as he eyes the harness and all the other accessories Dean got from God knows where.
Dean gifts him with his blinding smile, all teeth and sparkling eyes. “It’s the perfect idea. I rock, man!”
Sam stares at his brother, like he finally lost his mind. “You want us to go in as a blind guy with a guide dog?”
“Don’t say I’m no genius. The cops are looking for two guys, not for a blind dude with a dog.”
Sam covers his eyes with his hand and groans. Only his brother.
And the cops even hold the door for them!
---
“Sammy, get out of those clothes!”
Sam drips with river water, his soaked clothes already stiffening with frost, and his teeth chatter so loud that he almost doesn’t even hear his brother. He stands there, his eyes blank, his mind still full of the black dog they chased.
In the end, Dean loses his patience with him and starts tearing the wet clothes from his body. Sam finally gets what his brother wants from him and tries to help, but his numb fingers mostly get in the way.
The jeans, the shirt and everything else ends up in a messy pile and Sam stands there naked and pale and he shivers so hard that his whole body shakes as if having a seizure. He notices dully that Dean is stripping too but his mind is too muddled for him to…
“Shift!” Dean snaps loudly.
Sam frowns. “Huh?”
“For Christ’s sake, Sammy.” Dean catches Sam’s face in both of his hands, looks him directly in the eyes and repeats, slowly and clearly. “Shift. Into. Your. Wolf form. Now… Or I swear to God I’ll kick your ass!”
Oh, I can do that, Sam thinks and lets the beast within free…
And when finally the morning comes, it finds two wolves curled up together under the low hanging branches of an evergreen, sleeping off their night’s adventure, warm and cozy.
---
Dean sits in the passenger seat, shifting very carefully so as to not scratch the upholstery with his wolf claws. He has his head stuck out of the rolled down window and as the landscape blurs by, he squints his eyes against the wind, ears flattened, tongue lolling. He looks relaxed, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Dude, you’ll swallow a bug or something,” Sam warns from behind the wheel but secretly, he is delighted to see his brother like this, untroubled and happy.
Dean huffs and Sam would bet that it was meant to be a rude comment of some sort.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Sam adds in a singsong voice.
Just a normal day for two werewolves and one Impala on the road.
The End
