As the night goes on the temperature in the dark theatre drops and Dean feels your body start to shiver in his arms. He carefully shrugs out of his jacket and wraps it around your scantily clothed body to try to warm you up. The little girl also eventually snuggles up close and falls asleep. As he sits there he lets his mind wander. He wonders what your reaction will be to the pup and his inability to kill it ... her. As she sleeps she looks so innocent and human. If it weren't for her earlier howling and admittance he may never have even noticed that she was part dog. He wonders what it would be like for the two of you to raise her. Feed her with animals rather than humans and train her to act human. But then the dark thoughts intrude. What if she still turned bad? What if she tried to get revenge for her father? What if she hurt you? He tries to push the dark thoughts away and focus on the here and now instead. Your steady breath on his skin. Your steady heartbeat. Your subtle shivering. Eventually, he decides it would be best if she's raised by other werewolves. Others who understand but also don't feed on humans. He makes a mental note to call Garth and ask if he and Bess will take in the pup. He quietly hums Some Kind of Monster by Metallica to calm himself down and try to get some sleep like you and the pup, the irony of his song choice is not lost on him, but he also doubts the pup would know Metallica. Eventually, he lets himself drift off, relishing in the weight of your body on his.
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You blink your eyes open, a throbbing pain making itself known in your head. Despite blinking multiple times your vision is blurry. You try to take note of your surroundings using your other senses. You can feel strong arms around your waist and a thick, warm body under you. You take in a deep breath and your nose fills with the scent of cheap beer, gunpowder, and the metallic smell of blood. This warms and comforts you; you'd know those scents anywhere. Without the energy or strength to lift your head, you place a feather-light kiss on the exposed skin of his neck. You feel him instantly tense and shift under you trying to stretch.
"I'm...So weak..." you groak out quietly, testing your dry throat. You tear up at the pain and overwhelming weakness.
Dean feels your tears drop onto his neck. "Hey, hey, it's alright. I'm right here. I've got you. I don't know what happened in that bar, or in this room after. But I've got you now. You're safe."
You cry harder as you struggle to recall any details from the bar and can't. Dean rubs your back soothingly.
"I don't remember...anything" you sob out.
He helps you sit up in his lap so he can look into your eyes. He holds your face in one of his hands while he keeps the other securely on your hip, keeping you steady. He wipes the tears as they reach his thumb. "Oh. Sweetheart. We'll figure it out. All that matters right now is that you're safe. Just start with what you do remember and I'll fill in what I can, alright."
You try to gather your thoughts and think back to the night before. More tears run down your face. Dean continues to soothe you and wipe the tears away. "Just take your time, Sweetheart. I'm right here. You're so strong."
"We...We were at a bar. You...You were playing pool. I got us drinks. You...Won." You quickly reach around in your back pocket but find it empty. "You gave me the winnings..." You start to cry again, feeling guilty for losing the money.
Dean quickly figures out your thought process, brings your frantically searching hand back around to his lips and kisses it softly. He considers filling in some gaps for you but knows it's better if you work it out yourself. "Good. Keep going."
You take a deep breath and try to focus again. "There were hunters. They were hunting a werewolf. We talked. I-I talked you into joining their hunt...with me as bait. You didn't want to do it, and I convinced you and it all went wrong." You start crying harder as the memories start flashing back. "It was a simple werewolf hunt and I couldn't...I screwed up..."
"Hey, Hey. No. It's not your fault. And you're safe now, that's all that matters now. We can stop if you need a break, you don't have to think about it anymore."
"No. I need to...I need to remember, Dean."
"Just take your time. There's no rush, I'm right here."
You compose yourself again. "We went back to the hotel. I got changed." You look down at your barely clothed body and feel a little self-conscious despite knowing Dean's the only one looking now. Dean wraps his jacket around you tighter as he feels you shiver again, thinking it's due to the cold. Then you lighten up a little. "The money...Your winnings...They're in my other jeans."
"That's right. You're doing so well. Keep going."
"We went to a nightclub. You dropped me off. I went inside. One of the other hunters was there. I drank a fancy cocktail and then went out to the dancefloor. One guy was getting really handsy. He kept grabbing my ass and trying to grind against me. And I kept rubbing up against people. I hated it. I just wanted to be in your arms instead."
"You are now. The handsy guy? Was that the werewolf?"
You think hard trying to recall the guy's face, but you can't. The memory of the club is fuzzy. But a feeling in your stomach makes you say, "No. It was someone else." Dean nods and you try to think. "I think someone bought me a drink? Another fancy cocktail, maybe? Would I have been stupid enough? Did I drink it? Is that why?" Your breathing becomes laboured again as your heart rate rises and you begin to panic.
Dean pulls you close to his chest. "It's not your fault. You're not stupid. You're always so careful. You couldn't have known. You didn't know. I should've been in there with you instead of that imbecile. You're my wife, I should've protected you better."
"I...He...I was drugged?" You manage to get out between sobs.
Dean carefully nods. "I believe he roofied you. But I know you. And I know that you never would have drank the drink if you knew...Unless...No, I refuse to let myself believe you'd be that reckless. Especially since you promised me you'd be careful." He eyes you carefully as if not believing his own thoughts and words.
You lean down in his arms again, resting your head on his chest. "I shouldn't have insisted on joining their hunt. I'm sorry."
You feel Dean sigh. "I hope you know this is the last time you ever play bait. You're getting out of this life now. I'm gonna buy you a house overlooking the beach and ward it against everything and you're gonna stay there and be safe."
Knowing better than to argue in this moment you stay quiet, listen to his steady heartbeat and try to relax. As you relax your vision slowly clears and you notice the small child in the chair beside you. "Hey, Dean? Who's-"
"Oh...She's the werewolf's pup. He's gone but I couldn't...she's just a child."
You gently sit up and reach your hand out softly brushing your fingers through her soft hair. "Do you think?"
Dean raises an eyebrow at you not following yet.
"Where's her mother?"
"Her dad was the only one here. I was expecting a pack, but no one else came in here. I figure he was hunting alone, taking the hearts to feed his pup. But we spooked him in the alley and he brought you here for later instead."
As you continue to brush the little girl's soft hair she begins to stir. You watch as she blinks a few times and then looks up at you. "You're ok?" She asks quietly.
You nod. "I am. Are you?"
She starts to nod and then shakes her head. "I want my daddy."
"I understand. Where's your mother?"
She gives you a sad look and says, "Daddy said a human killed her."
"I'm so sorry to hear that," you say. "And I'm very sorry about your dad."
"I know he hurt you and brought you here...He was very angry."
"I know. My husband and I both know a little about how you feel. Our parents were killed too. I promise we won't hurt you. My name is Y/N, by the way, what's yours?"
"Destiny."
You smile at her and sit up and stretch out your stiff and heavy muscles. Forcing yourself to fight the lingering effects of the drugs, you stand up and move into the seat on the other side of Destiny. As you move you give Dean a look, urging him to clean up the mess from last night so she doesn't have to see it.
"That's a beautiful name," you say as you watch Dean sneak off while you keep her distracted. "Do you have any other family around here?"
She shakes her head as her eyes cautiously follow Dean.
You pull her attention back to you by placing your hand on top of hers. "Well, Dean and I have actually been talking about adopting a little girl. You could come with us if you want. We'd keep you safe."
"I'm not human...Daddy said humans are not safe."
"It's true some aren't. But nor are all werewolves. A pack of werewolves killed my parents, but not all werewolves are bad either. You can learn to be good and control your urges. We can help. We have a friend who's a werewolf."
"I don't have to hunt? Or kill? Daddy said I have to learn to hunt."
"We'll never force you to hunt. We can source meat from elsewhere."
Her face lights up. "Really?"
You nod. "When Dean comes back we'll take you somewhere safe with us."
She nods at you and gives you a small smile. As the two of you sit there in the silent theatre waiting for Dean you take note of Destiny's tiny figure. Despite the supposed line of dead women and missing hearts, she seems malnourished. You start to doubt the integrity and experience of those other hunters.
After what feels like an eternity Dean finally returns to help you and Destiny out of the theatre. You lean on him as you hobble down the many stairs and into the foyer. Destiny follows behind quickly, staying close to your legs. You can tell she's still a little weary of Dean, which is completely understandable. As you get outside into the early morning sunlight you notice how ragged and bloody Destiny's clothes are. You slip Dean's jacket off your shoulders and wrap it around her tiny frame instead.
You help her up into the backseat of the Impala and then slide in beside her. Dean gives you an understanding look and moves around to the driver's side before getting in and driving back towards the hotel. He's a little more cautious than normal, highly aware of the small child and his recovering wife in the backseat. He glances up at the mirror every time he stops at a red light or stop sign, checking to make sure you're okay.
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