Like Cats and Dogs

Chapter 36

"Silent. Limp. Broken. Dead. Do these suffice?"

Dean grits his teeth, tries not to flinch. And he refuses to describe his bond to Cas as dead. He won't do it.

"Yeah. Got it." Dean rubs at the scruff along his jaw, breathing deep and trying to regain some control. The wolf is pacing and anxious to get moving, its impatience spreading through Dean's veins. He tries to focus on the scent of Cas' shirt on his shoulder, but it's getting harder by the second.

"We got a full moon tonight," John grunts, getting things back on track so they can come up with some kind of plan. Dean is grateful. "Sure everybody's feeling it already. Our pack knows how to hunt on a moon. And you two," he gestures at Dean and Michael, "not sure of it, but there's a chance those bonds of yours'll perk up when the moon's out. Whatever it is that makes us shifters, it's on full force tonight."

John glances around the room, catching everyone's agreeing nods.

"Everybody rest up," he continues, apparently satisfied with the response. "Spend the day with your family, your mate, your pup. Eat, relax, and get ready for a hell of a hunt."

***

The Bunker is a bundle of nerves for the entire day. It's thick in the air, weighing everyone down. It's quiet too, with mostly everyone hiding out in their rooms in close quarters with the people most important to them.

Dean goes to his room alone. He'd like to rest up, but the wolf won't let him sleep. Even with the scent of Cas all around him, his bed is cold and the scent is a day old at this point.

There's a knock on his door, and Dean thinks about not answering, but whoever it is decides not to give him the choice.

"Dean," someone sighs, the voice and scent familiar. Dean pulls his comforter closer around his shoulders, doesn't raise his head off of Cas' pillow.

"Lisa," he mumbles. "What're you doin' here?"

She's quiet for a few seconds, and Dean feels the comforter lift and the mattress dip under her weight as she slips into his bed behind him.

"Lisa. What are you doing," he repeats, even as he instinctively settles back into her arms as she wraps them around him.

"I'm trying to help," she says softly, her warm breath brushing against the nape of his neck. "Is that okay?"

Dean hesitates. He feels wrong, being here with Lisa while Cas is out there suffering. Scared. Alone. Dean doesn't even know if he's alive. Maybe he already breathed his last exhale, maybe he wondered why Dean had given up on him. Maybe—

"Dean," Lisa cooed, combing her fingers through his hair. "Breathe."

He let out a shaky exhale, curling away from her. "Don't. I can't—"

"Shh," she continues to stroke his hair, nuzzling the nape of his neck along his hairline. "You'll find him. He'll be okay, Dean. Castiel will be okay."

Dean turns over in her arms and buries his nose against her collarbone. Her scent is comforting and familiar, not enough to bring his heart rate down but definitely something. She shifts to run a hand down his spine, still making soothing noises at each unsteady breath.

He doesn't realize that he was shivering until he stops.

"You don't have to be here," Dean mumbles, trying to reign his thoughts back in. Freaking out some more isn't going to help anybody.

"No," she sighs, "I don't. But I'm here."

They're quiet for a few minutes, the silence of Dean's room filled only with their combined breathing. Dean gives in, letting his arms wind around Lisa in return.