"Can you just answer the damn question, Marcus?" I spat into my phone's speaker, pacing up and down the guest room. Andrew sat meekly on the bed, slumped and with his head in his hands. His head was pounding and all he really wanted to do was tell me to shut up, but he knew he couldn't. He just wanted to go back to sleep.
"Can't you just tell us what's going on first-" the blonde on the other end of the phone pled again, cut off by my sharp snarl.
"How far out are you Marcus?" I snapped, steadily growing tired of having to repeat myself.
"About two hours I think," he finally grumbled, albeit reluctantly. "Maybe an hour and a half if Caeden picks up the pace. Are you going to tell us what's going on now?"
"When you get here, I will," I replied, the tension dissipating from my voice. "Look, all I need is for you to give Andrew a ride home-"
"You're not coming with us?" Caeden's voice crackled from the other end. I shook my head and dragged my backpack out from under the bed. The lump of canvas dropped onto the bed with a thud.
"Not yet. I've got something else to take care of."
"Sounds cryptic," Marcus joked wearily, hiding his frustration with humor. "Give us two more hours, alright? We'll be there soon." I nodded at his words and muttered a quiet thank you before ending the call.
With a groan I dropped forward onto the bed, my face in my hands and my legs hanging off the bed. Andrew winced and turned his tired eyes on my frustrated form.
"How long?" he asked, fiddling with his hands in his lap. He was antsy and anxious to know what was going on. All he knew was that he was suddenly being dropped into someone else's lap in favor of a hunt.
"Two more hours," I mumbled into the heavy quilted comforter, my voice muffled by the thick fabric. I lifted my head and checked the watch strapped to my wrist - 4 o'clock in the afternoon. With a groan I dropped my head back onto the mattress, my arm collapsing with it.
I jumped as my block of a phone burst into music. I scrambled for the box, ignoring Andrew's harsh wince at the sudden noise, and flipped the screen up, checking the caller ID.
"Dean?" I spoke into the phone, raising it to my ear. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, I, uh..." he stammered out in what I assumed was an attempt to gather his thoughts. "You told me to call you when we got here, remember?"
"Shit..." I whispered and sat up, having completely forgotten. "Yeah, I remember. How's the case going?"
"We're in the apartment now, checking the place out. Figured now was as good a time as ever to call," he replied. I could almost picture the sheepish smile on his face. "Oh shit, can you do me a favor?"
"Sure, anything," I immediately responded and froze, eyes wide. Had I really just said that?
"I need you to tell Ellen that Jo's with us," he said, completely ignoring what I had just said. My cheeks flushed for a split second before I realized just what he had said.
"What!?" I shouted, earning a severe flinch from my friend on the other bed. "What do you mean Jo's with you!?"
"It's not like we planned this!" he shouted back in exasperation. "She just showed up! Look, I know she's probably out of her mind with worry - I just want you to tell her she's safe."
"Dean, she'll kill me."
"Y/N, you're a three-hundred pound, bulletproof wolf," he muttered into the phone speaker, likely shielding his voice from Jo who was no doubt close by. "I think you'll manage just fine."
I rolled my eyes and drew my backpack towards me, rifling through its contents once more to make sure everything was there. This was at least the third time I had checked, but I had nothing better to do. "You owe me one-"
"Oh fuck," he cursed, his footsteps thundering across the room loud enough for me to hear them. "Hold on a second N/N."
I froze, both hands stuck in my bag and the phone held between my ear and shoulder. I turned ever so slightly to face Andrew without dropping the phone, who could no doubt hear the scratchy, metallic sound of Dean's voice.
"Well shit," he finally spoke, his voice growing louder as he neared his displaced phone and eventually picked it up. "Looks like we've got a ghost on our hands. Just found some ectoplasm-"
A knock from the door to our guest room interrupted Dean's words. He paused mid-sentence and waited as if he wasn't quite sure what he had heard. Then, a second set of knocks came from the opposite side of our door.
I swore under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear, and padded barefoot across the room. I pulled the door open slightly, ignoring the wood's creaks of protest, to find Clarence standing in the doorway.
"I got the stuff," he said cheerily. "You ready yet?"
I froze, phone pressed to my ear as I heard shuffling from the other end of the line. "Y/N, who's that?"
I nearly dropped the phone and fumbled for a firm grip on it. Once I had it secured, I raised the speaker to my mouth and stumbled through my words. "I'll call you back, Dean-"
"Y/N what's going on-"
"I'll call you later!" I shouted over him and ended the call before he had a chance to respond. With a shaky breath, I shut the phone and caught Clarence's startled brown eyes. I shot him a sheepish grin.
---
I stood on the front deck of the Roadhouse, surveying the empty and barren lot. The sun was dipping low by this point in the day, setting sooner with fall arriving sooner this year. I wasn't excited for the bitter chill that it would bring with it.
My ears pricked and the nape of my neck tingled at the sound of a rather old engine tearing down the open highway, not far from the bar. A buzz went through my spine, a familiar feeling that indicated an incoming presence. I grinned and skipped down the porch steps.
An older Ford model trundled into the parking lot, its engine popping with every rocky turn it made. From where I was standing, I could tell it needed to visit a machine shop. It was a dark green color that matched well with nearby pine trees. Through the dirty glass windows, I could see two familiar figures silhouetted in the darkness of the cab.
"Those your friends?" came Clarence Clearwater's creaky voice, a toothpick between his lips. I jumped at his voice, not realizing he was watching me from the doorway. I nodded. "They here to take your brother home?" Clarence's eyes darted between the pair nervously, brows knitted together and lips drawn tight. For a friendly hunter, he didn't seem to trust many people. Did he even trust me? Probably not.
My skin prickled at his words, but I nodded anyway. I'd rather accept Andrew as my brother than explain the situation - it was less complicated, and he was family.
I turned my eyes back on the Ford as a door shut loudly. My grin returned, eyes set on Caeden and Marcus as they pulled the keys from the ignition and made their way to the steps. "An hour, forty-five. Nice timing boys," I teased.
"I ran a few red lights," Caeden remarked in his characteristically monotone voice. My smile fell ever so slightly, eyes flickering to the license plate holder, only to find there was nothing there. They had ditched the plates sometime after stealing the truck.
"So what's the plan here, boss?" Marcus questioned, taking the porch steps two at a time. "And who's this?" he asked, gesturing towards Clarence. The older hunter's cheeks flushed and ground his teeth together - strangers made him nervous.
"This is Clarence," I introduced and padded back up the steps. "He, uh..." I struggled for words in an awkward attempt to explain the situation. "I'm going on a hunt with him. A skinwalker hunt," I finally blurted out. Everyone fell silent, Caeden's eyes wide and Marcus's jaw hanging loosely in shock.
"You're hunting what?" came a voice from the open front door. I jumped at Andrew's voice and whirled to face him; his mouth was set in a firm line, his bag slung over his shoulder.
"We just got done with a hunt, and now you want to go after skinwalkers?" he sputtered in irritation. The air was thick with tension, although not the kind of tension Clarence assumed. He expected the swell of emotions to be from whatever quarrel this odd family had with skinwalkers. Instead, my companions were shocked to hear that I'd be going after my own species.
"Andy, it's fine-"
"No, it's not," Marcus spat. "You called us out here with no warning, tell us you're going to hunt some fucking skinwalkers and expect us to leave?" He snarled and all eyes snapped quickly to Clarence, hoping he would disregard the animalistic sound.
"Y/N, what do you know about this hunt?" Caeden asked, placing a comforting hand on his partner's shoulder.
"It's outside of Boulder, Colorado," Clarence interjected, his tone more serious than I was used to. I had grown accustomed to his hyperactive tendencies, and his inability to get a sentence out without completely changing directions. "I keep hearing reports about skinwalkers movin' from town to town - they're back in full force, you know. I'm already hearing stories about some baddies out there," he lowered his voice at the last bit like he didn't quite want to share it.
"How many?" Caeden demanded. Clarence shook his head - he didn't know for sure.
"My guess, maybe thirty. Could be from different packs though. I've never heard of a skinwalker pack with more than ten mutts." The group as a whole flinched at the word mutt. No one quite liked that word.
"How do you know anything about skinwalkers?" Marcus inquired, crossing his arms irritably across his chest. "Until recently, everyone thought they were extinct."
"Last sighting was almost a hundred years ago, right?" I questioned, glancing over my shoulder at the grizzled hunter. "Some old woman killed the last of them?"
Clarence barked out a laugh. "Yeah, we all thought so too. Then, what, maybe half a year ago, new cases started popping up. Sightings. Hunts." He spat out the last word like one would spit out a clump of tobacco chew.
"Everyone's got their sights on skinnies now," Clearwater continued. "There's two options right now - either there's very few of the bastards left, and they can finally be wiped out - that's the preferred option. Or, they've had enough time to grow, reproduce, get stronger. With some of the reports I've heard, the second's more likely."
"If it is the second," he continued. "We've got a hell of a fight coming. Those bastards don't know when to back down, and with some of these sightings, especially that one out in Manning, it's gonna be a bloodbath." Without warning, he clapped me on the shoulder and stepped down the stairs towards his own truck. "Look, you go ahead and talk to your boys about this, yeah? I'll wait in the truck."
I was thankful for the leather jacket I wore, separating my bare skin from his silver ringed hand.
I didn't respond, my eyes still glued to the wood boards beneath my boots. We all stood frozen until the sound of a truck door slamming shut jarred us from our thoughts.
Marcus was the first to jump into action, gripping my shoulders firmly in a demand for attention. "Manning!? Wasn't that where you and the Winchesters were?"
"With the vampires?" Caeden added, taking a step forward to narrow our circle. "I thought there were no other hunters there, and John's dead so he couldn't have-"
"Some vampire blabbed," I interjected, lifting my eyes to meet the concerned gazes of my friends. "I uh... I've been made, I guess. Got a new name for me too... Black Dog," I spoke softly with a nervous grin.
Marcus sucked in a sharp breath and glanced over his shoulder at Clarence's tinted windows. "Does he know?"
"That I'm a skinwalker? No, of course not, I would be dead," I spat. "No one but the Winchesters and Bobby know."
"And they won't tell anyone?" Caeden asked, his voice gruff with distrust. I bit back a snarled and glared at him.
"You don't honestly believe Sam and Dean would rat me out, do you?"
"I don't know them-"
"-They're family, Caed!"
"They're not my family!" he spat in a whisper-yell, his deep brown eyes glancing towards the open doorway into the bar. He stood his ground when his eyes settled back on mine, now speckled with gold. "Marcus is my family. You are my family," he snarled and glanced back towards Clearwater's pickup.
Caeden sighed and looked between his three companions; Andrew's eyes were locked on the ground, shaking slightly with nerves. "Look, you're not going alone. I'll go with you-"
"Caeden!" Marcus barked out in worry.
"- and keep you out of trouble. You two," he gestured between the two remaining skinwalkers. "- go home. We'll be back soon-"
"- I'm not leaving you two here," Marcus chided. "It's not safe for either of you-"
"- But it's safe for Andrew to stay by himself?" Caeden countered. I placed a hand softly on the boy's shoulder, hoping to give him some sort of comfort.
"I can go too," he piped up, surprising all of us. All eyes settled on him as he lifted his head, red hair catching the waning sunlight. "I'll stay in a hotel if I have to, but I'm going too."
"No!" I snapped, glaring at my friends. "None of you are coming with me, we don't know what's out there-"
"That's exactly why we're coming with you," Marcus growled back. "Now get your head out of your ass, and let's go," he ordered and spun on his heels before marching down the steps and towards their stolen truck.
I turned to face, who simply shrugged and withdrew his keys from his pocket. "You heard the man. I'll ride with you," he said with a note of finality and traipsed towards Clarence's truck. Before I had a chance to say anything else, Andrew ran with a half-hearted whoop to where Marcus waited.
---
Suffice to say, the car ride was silent. Mixed discomfort and irritation filled the air; my skin prickled with annoyance the whole ride. Since when was I not entitled to my own decisions? Since when did I need to be babysat by the very people I was meant to be looking out for?
I glared out the car window as hills rolled by, day fading into night. Entranced by the light the moon cast on the waving grasses, I almost forgot what I was mad about. Almost. Truthfully, I was frustrated with everything - this situation, my lack of answers, the white wolf, and...
I couldn't help but overthink the recent case and everything that had gone wrong. That feeling of being rooted to the spot, unable to move, mind hazy... it was an awful feeling, and one I hoped to never have to experience again. Part of me wondered if that's how my wolf once felt.
And Dean... my shoulders tensed as the image of him holding the barrel of a gun to his chin danced in my mind. I clenched my eyes shut at the thought of me tackling him to the ground, knocking the shotgun from his hands. Had I been a second later-
My eyes flew open as my skin prickled, sights dashing to the edge of the road. Something wasn't right, I could almost feel it in my bones. My eyes tracked up the road in the darkness, searching for shapes. It almost felt like something was... watching us.
I am, a familiar voice came from beside me. I jumped and gripped the seat in fright, turning to face my verbal assailant. Beside me, hardly contained by the backseat of Clarence's pickup truck, was the white wolf.
Quite the adventure you've had, he spoke, his ruby eyes fixed out the front window, the once vibrant color now dampened by the darkness outside the truck. Psychics are always a pain.
I glanced nervously at my companions in the front seat, deaf to his words and blind to his movements, fixated on the open road that was barely illuminated by Clarence's dim headlights.
Don't worry, they can't see me. In fact, I'm not really here. He turned to me with an all too familiar wolfish grin, his eyes on the rolling Midwestern fields behind me. I followed his gaze only to find my world had been swallowed once more by the inky darkness that always seemed to follow him.
Am I dreaming again? I questioned with my mind, slipping easily back into this off form of communication.
Daydreaming, actually. Quite impressive, how easily you can come and go. He frowned and narrowed his red eyes in irritation. If only you would pick up other things so quickly.
If only someone would tell me what it is I'm meant to be picking up, I mocked. The wolf snorted in disdain as if to say 'you're lucky I'm in a good mood'.
There is no way for me to explain it to you. My lessons are purely trial and error. But I'm not here for your bickering, he spat with irritation. For once it was me calling you here, not the other way around. So listen closely and don't waste- he paused, his red eyes latched on the darkness, as if watching some movement that I couldn't see. - My time. It seems we don't have enough of it.
And with that, he was gone and the truck rumbled to a halt. I jolted in my seat, unfurling from my curled position in the backseat, and rubbed my cheek that had been pressed against the cold window.
"Mornin' Sleeping Beauty," Clarence chimed excitedly. "We're here." I furrowed my brows and leaned closer to the glass, warm breath fogging it. Above us towered a neon motel sign, advertising vacancies, although several of the letters flickered or didn't come on at all.
"Your pals went to get the room keys," he chirped as he slid out of his seat, his boots hitting the gravel parking lot with a loud thud. "Should be back soon."
I groaned as I pulled myself out of my seat and cast one last look at the spot the white wolf had been sitting in. I frowned and chewed on the inside of my cheek in thought. My back popped as I stretched, baring my throat to the night sky. The sky, despite its darkness, looked surprisingly bright in contrast to the inky blackness I had previously been surrounded by.
"Two singles and a double!" shouted Marcus as he jogged across the parking lot with Andrew not far behind. Caeden strolled slowly behind them, his long strides covering the distance easily. In a flash, a key flew through the air, catching the light of the moon as it went, and landed neatly in Clarence's hands.
"Two singles, huh?" he questioned with a lifted brow. He glanced over his shoulder at my tired form and I shook my head, knowing what he must be thinking. No, I wasn't sharing a bed with someone. He turned quizzically back to the boys when it seemed to dawn on him. "Oh," he grumbled, more startled than angry.
"What time are we getting started tomorrow?" I questioned as I padded to his side and swung my backpack onto my shoulder. "Got anywhere we need to scope out? Any witnesses?"
Clarence nodded and pulled his own bag around to his front, searching through it. After several long moments, he withdrew a file full of papers not unlike Jo's. "Here, I don't suppose you'll be sleeping much tonight. A handful of witnesses, if you can call them that. Might be able to pull somethin' from that," he mused as I took the stack from his grip.
"I guess I'll see what I can find," I said with a falsely confident grin. With a last sloppy salute to my companions, I motioned for Andrew to follow me to our room. It seemed I'd have to deal with his snoring again - although Clarence was right, I wasn't planning on sleeping. "I'll see you boys in the morning!" I called out one last time before disappearing into the darkness of my room.
My bag dropped onto the nearest bed the moment I shut the door, the papers falling onto a nearby table with a loud sleep. "Get some sleep," I ordered, not bothering to look at Andrew. He was disheveled, clearly exhausted, and still nursing a hangover. I didn't need to see the dark circles beneath his eyes to know that much. "We'll run through the case in the morning."
"No complaints here," he agreed with a yawn and a nod of his head, his fiery red locks bouncing with each nod. His hair had grown much longer than when we first met, dropping into his face now. It was a mess of fluffy locks on the front and cowlicks in the back.
He fell face forward onto his mattress, the metal frame creaking under his weight. I smiled softly at his lumpish form - he hadn't even bothered to remove his shoes. I brushed a hand through my matted hair and glanced around the dark room. Research could wait until after a shower.
Surprisingly, the motel's water was hot - perhaps it was because no one had used the showers in hours. It was, after all, very early in the morning. I huddled beneath the warmth, enjoying the sting on my skin that pushed the blood to the surface. I didn't particularly care that my fingers were pruny or that my skin was red.
My fingertips traced absentmindedly over the numerous scars on my body, a ritual I had grown rather used to; when I was done tracing the patterns of one, I'd jump to another. My shoulder, still bearing shred marks, felt like it almost rippled under my ministrations. Even months after that damn daeva attack, it still wasn't back to full strength.
I caressed the dip of my hip, running distractedly over the scars left by my first werewolf hunt. They were faded now, but still a reminder of my carelessness. Perhaps if I had listened to Dennis, I wouldn't be bearing such wounds now.
Despite the fogginess of the mirror, I could still clearly see my form as I stepped out of the water. Redder than normal, yes, but also... worn. Stretched. Tired. I frowned at my form and twisted, peering at as much as I could. I was a mess, scarred, worn, battered. Bruised. My fingertips brushed the now yellowing bruise on my stomach. A reminder of the last hunt.
Beautiful. That had been what Dean described me as so many months ago on that damn vampire case. I wondered if that was how he would describe me if he could see all of it. If he still believed it, he would be the only one.
With a sigh, I towel dried my hair and threw on some fresh clothes. Jeans probably weren't the best thing to sleep in, but they were all I had. The bathroom door creaked under my force, the dim glow illuminating the motel room.
I scowled at Andrew's sleeping form. He hadn't budged since I entered the bathroom some thirty minutes ago. Dropping my own discarded articles of clothing on my bed, I tugged at his laces slowly and dragged the boots off his feet. They dirtied my hand with dust, though I didn't mind. I smiled softly as I set them down beside his bed. With one last motion, I threw the edge of the blankets over him in the hopes that the feeble attempt might warm him up a bit.
Fascinating, chimed a voice from the darkness. I whipped to face the white wolf, seated on my bed, his wide paws stretched out in a rather uncanine way. You care so deeply for him, and yet you plan on hunting your own in the morning.
They're not my own, and I don't plan to kill them, I grumbled and snatched the case file from the table, dragging it towards myself as I dropped into a chair. Am I daydreaming again?
Something like that, he offered and stepped down from the bed, hardly dropping in elevation at all. Having an object to compare him to made him seem so much bigger.
What did you want to tell me about? I don't have all day to deal with you, I snapped. The wolf chuckled, a surprisingly human noise. By now, the fact that a wolf was talking to me didn't surprise me - what did catch me off guard was how not wolfish he could be.
Have you tried again? he asked. It took me a moment to understand what he was suggesting.
You mean 'connecting' to my pack? No. I haven't actually thought about it, I spat and thumbed through the loose pages of witness testimonies. I growled in frustration. All of them seemed to have seen nothing. Perhaps a shadow here and there, but nothing concrete. Why do you care anyway? I can talk to them just fine without whatever it is you want from me.
The wolf paused, his head cocked to the side, eyes narrowed in annoyance. You're weak, he spat, his voice dropping into a throatier growl.
I snarled and dropped the paper I was holding, facing him fully. What? I snapped, my nails digging harshly into the wooden back of the chair.
The white wolf drew back his lips and bared his fangs. With a flick of his tail, my world was plunging and I was falling through darkness. I grasped at nothing, hoping my fingers would grip onto something and drag me to the surface.
Instead of the surface, I found my back hitting the harsh ground, the sky filled with red and flashes of lightning crossing the sky. I jumped to my feet in fright only to find the wolf the same distance from me as before, towering over me with a threatening form, as if he was ready to pounce.
You are insolent and weak. You don't care enough to learn, to listen, he snarled spit flying from his lips, his fangs bathed red in the harsh light.
What is there to learn!? I screamed into the roaring wind, swelling like a tide and carrying the scent of rot with it. My eyes dashed wildly around the landscapes dotted with corpses - human and monster. I had been here before.
Listen closely, little one, he snapped and took several slow steps closer until his lips were bowed to my ear as if he were going to whisper to me. This - he gestured to the rotting world with a flick of his tail - is your future. That god-awful demon knew it, you know it. You are too caught up in your own lies and questions to see it.
He bent and craned his neck so his eyes met mine. You are likely the strongest of your kind - third generation, a god amongst monsters. Yet you squander it. You are weak.
"What am I supposed to do instead!?" I screamed, having forgotten to speak with my mind. The wolf snarled and lunged forward, his fangs aimed for my throat. I shouted in fear and stumbled backward until I fell to the ground. The wolf stood over me, nearly nose to nose with me.
Listen, and maybe you'll learn something, he snapped. Do as you are told, and maybe this won't be your end.
---
"We've got nothing! Three days and we're at square one!" Marcus shouted, pacing up and down the room. I winced at his shrill words, ignoring the harsh pain behind my eyes from lack of sleep. "I'm beginning to think there's no case here at all!"
"The witnesses clearly saw something," Caeden remarked, placing a calloused hand on his partner's shoulder in an attempt to calm him. "There's something here, certainly you can feel that."
"They haven't moved on yet, that much's obvious," Clarence growled from his spot opposite me at the table, a knife beneath his fingernails clearing out the dirt. "They ain't left yet. They're waiting."
"For what!?" Marcus demanded, throwing his arms wide and shrugging off Caeden's hand. "A sign from God?"
I tapped away at my laptop, scanning and searching through page after page of news articles and lore pages. "Andrew, hand me the map again," I spoke softly, voice raspy from lack of sleep. I had hardly rested at all the last several days - what time I did have to sleep was spent being mercilessly grilled by the white wolf.
Again, he would demand, and I would try again. I never succeeded to pierce through the minds of my companions. Again, he would demand. Again. I was beginning to hate it.
Andrew slid the map across the table and I unfurled it just enough to see all the red x's drawn on its surface. Bodies, or at least parts of them.
"Face it, Clar, we're never going to find them!" Marcus continued to gripe, matching Clarence's stare with equal malice, "Who knows if they were even here at the same time as us!"
Clarence stood abruptly, the feet of his chair squeaking against the old wood floors of the motel room. I waved my hand wildly in the air, urging him to sit back down - he glared but inevitably slackened his stance.
"We missed something, I know we did," I muttered just loud enough for my companions to hear. I could feel it, though I didn't want to say that aloud. I knew they were here, somewhere. "Run through the locations again, we'll find it-"
Everyone jumped at the sound of a phone blaring loudly - my phone. I scrambled to pull it from my pocket, half expecting it to be Dean again. I had only texted him a handful of times, never giving much detail. If he knew what I was doing, he'd come to find me.
The caller ID was not Dean's - in fact, it was a number I didn't recognize. I frowned and made a shushing motion at my peers before answering the call.
"Hello?"
"Agent Young?" came a low voice from the other end. I quickly hit the speaker button and placed the phone on the table. "This is Chief Darwin, from the county department? Are you and your other agents still in town?"
"Yes," I croaked out and cleared my throat. "Yes, we're all still here. Do you have a new lead?"
"Yeah... something like that," the man said, his voice dripping with nerves. "Look, come down to the quarry, we've got a big investigative unit out here, you can't miss it. There's something you should see." I nodded and barely had time to give my thanks before the police chief hung up.
With a quirked brow, I turned to my companions, hands shaking a bit and eyes bloodshot from exhaustion, but somehow still alert. "You boys up for a drive?"
5324 words.
Happy Holidays everyone! For those of you that celebrate Christmas, I hope you all had a great day - for those of you that don't, I hope you're enjoying the end of this god-awful year. I definitely am.
What do you guys think of this chapter? I'll admit, it's a bit rushed and sort of a filler, but I promise the next one will be better. I'm actually very excited about it.
Let me know what you guys think! I love reading your comments.
Edited 05/18/22.