Gore warning :)
My skin itched at his words, a tickle in the back of my mind that I hadn't felt for months making an appearance. Instinct. Part of me wanted to lunge forward and rip his heart from his chest before he could even react.
I didn't.
I quelled the tide of instinct inside of me, my wolf falling silent once more. We were in this together now. She trusted me. But that didn't stop me from wanting to tear this bastard to shreds.
My eyes flicked to Booth, who seemed to be barely standing on his own. He looked exhausted, thinner even, but his jaw was set and his blue eyes were clear. His gaze met mine.
"You alright, Booth?" I called out over the roar of the raging inferno behind me. Braxton's grin faded, his brows twitching downwards into a clearly confused frown. I flexed my hands at my sides, my knuckles burning.
"Better than ever," Booth answered with a confident smile, his gums and teeth stained pink from blood. I scowled at that, taking in the mess of bruises, cuts, and burns that littered his skin. Burns much like those that danced across Caeden's skin wove over Booth's shoulders and around his torso. Silver burns.
The woman beside the Tervuren's side scoffed and set one foot forward in a near challenging way. My lips twitched up in a poorly hidden snarl, but I kept my eyes on Booth. "Did you not hear-"
At that, I snapped my gaze to her and she fell silent, blue eyes that held an oddly familiar shade widening a fraction. "I wasn't talking to you," I spat, barely containing my rage. My skin prickled and burned with a fire that I hadn't felt since the night of the car crash nearly a year ago. I saw red in the corner of my vision and my body shook, every muscle telling me to lunge forward and accept his challenge.
It was an innate behavior. Challenges brought a massive rise of emotion in all parties - the bystanders watched with curiosity, some salivating and lusting for blood. They were antsy, snapping and biting at each other out of aggression that hadn't been there four minutes ago. My back strained with each breath, my spine expanding ever so slightly to accommodate my shift that was just below the surface. The crowd was ready for a fight, and if they didn't get one soon, they were going to make one.
I squared my shoulders and faced Braxton, a stern glare on my features that would have made nearly any other skinwalker crumble. Instead, his lips quirked up in a confident smirk. I hated it.
"I suggest you give me my beta back," I spoke coolly, as levelly as I could manage with the boiling inferno inside me. "We can settle this civilly."
Braxton barked out a laugh and shook his head, not quite believing what he was seeing. "There's nothing civil about this, sweetheart. This is war," he raised one hand and flicked his wrist toward the graying man at his side. The man flicked his eyes to the tervuren and swallowed dryly before lunging forward.
Sasha screamed beside me as the man's claws extended, reaching for Booth's throat. I burst forward, wrenching away from the hold Marcus had on my sleeve. Time slowed as the man's palm wrapped around Booth's throat, lips drawn back in a grimace. I wasn't going to make it before his claws ripped into Booth's flesh.
And suddenly both of them were flying. A snarl tore through the glade as a black mass crashed into the pair, sending them both sprawling in the dirt. Fangs ripped into the graying man's clothes, catching his skin and pulling. He dropped to his stomach while Booth rolled onto his side, shuffling away from their attacker.
Yips and howls of excitement filled the clearing as two more mutts stumbled into view, a thin, wiry red-brown dog snapping at the onlookers while the massive jaws of a mountain dog gripped Booth's shoulder lightly, dragging him backward. Hidalgo and I raced forward, grabbing Booth wherever we could and dragged him towards us.
The crowd split as a few excited onlookers leaped into the fray, tackling Caeden's furred form. He shook his head, tearing at flesh and shredding fur. Marcus took one step forward before ripping into his fur and bouncing into the battle.
The clearing burst into howls as skinwalkers clambered over each other, snapping and clawing at each other. Fights broke out in their excitement, the circle shrinking and losing its shape. Shouts filled the makeshift arena as they closed in, swiping out at anyone and everyone.
The sea of bodies crashed in on itself before anyone had a chance to stop it. Sasha screamed as she was pulled into the crowd, swiping wildly with his claws. Hidalgo's grip on Booth slipped as he chased her into the fray, shoving aside skinwalker after skinwalker that tore at his clothes. I shouted after him, but his figure was quickly swallowed by the crowd.
I pulled Booth upright, slinging one of his arms over my shoulder. He stumbled, putting one foot in front of the other shakily. I had to get him out of the crowd, away from the fray. With the hand that wasn't hooked around his waist, I reached for one of my silver knives. The silver blades seemed to hum as I wrapped my hand tightly around the handle and swung wildly at any who drew too close.
A hand gripped my wrist and I hissed in pain as my attacker twisted my arm. Vibrant eyes and flashing fangs met my gaze as my lips drew back in a snarl, pulling my arm towards me. My muscles twinged, fighting not to release the blade in my hand. With a sharp growl, I unhooked my arm from Booth's waist and swung, my fist colliding with the jaw of my attacker. The skinwalker crumbled, collapsing into the crowd.
The roars, snarls, and growls of the warring beasts drowned out the sound of the crackling fire that engulfed everything I had left. Hidalgo and Sasha had been swept into the crowd, hopefully having found each other by now. Andrew and Augustine had likely been submerged in the wave of bodies and were no doubt fighting to get out just as Booth and I were. And Marcus and Caeden... they were likely in the very thick of it.
I crashed to the ground as someone tackled me from behind. Claws gripped my back as I lost my hold on Booth. I rolled onto my back and slotted my knees between me and the mutt above me, pushing upwards and rolling it onto the ground by my side. I swung with a knife and slashed it, earning a yelp from the monster. It scuttled back into the crowd after its next victim.
"Enough!" someone screamed over the roar of the crowd. Howls and bays filled the air again, drowning out the thunderous voice. I dragged myself to my feet, hands skidding against the gravel ground, only to find a woman pulling Booth to his feet. She was short, her long, tightly curled hair obscuring most of her face.
She lifted her head to meet my gaze, revealing scared brown eyes that were warm and earthy. Her lip was split and bleeding, and her cheekbone and eye were healing from a recent bruise. Her lips split in what looked like a reassuring smile, although the blood staining her teeth was off-putting.
"I've got him," she cooed, hoisting him upwards. Booth planted his feet, leaning most of his weight on her. She didn't seem to mind. I turned wide golden eyes on him, flicking between them. Booth nodded slightly, half-lidded eyes portraying his exhaustion.
I drew my lip between my teeth and glanced over my shoulder. My pack was a priority right now. With him safe, maybe I could find the others. With a shaky exhale I turned my attention back to the woman and gave her a sharp nod before disappearing back into the crowd.
I shoved skinwalker after skinwalker aside, slashing with my knife as I trudged through the crowd. I moved towards the center, knowing Marcus and Caeden had to be close. With them, there was a chance we could plow through the crowd and escape this mess. With my pack, there was a chance I could make my escape. We could lie low somewhere, wait for this bastard to lose interest - if he didn't maybe we could gather a united front of sorts. With the Winchesters, Bobby, and maybe some other hunters. It was a long shot, but maybe we had-
A fist gripped the back of my shirt and pulled me back into the crowd. I nearly toppled, stumbling as I turned around to face the rage-filled hazel eyes of the tervuren. His lips split in a nasty snarl, revealing pointed fangs that hardly fit his human mouth. His beard looked shaggier and darker. He was on the verge of shifting.
"I said that's enough!" he screamed into the crowd. The skinwalkers closest to us scattered at his words, waves of his anger rolling off him and plunging into them in the form of terror. His arm pulled backward, dragging me with it before I was slammed into the earth.
I rolled and pulled myself to a crouch, facing him with a snarl. His brows twitched in irritation as I rose slowly, my muscles burning at the motion. Everything was burning, in fact. That boiling sensation returned to my blood a wave of warmth crashing over me.
Braxton paced slowly, beginning a slow, circular march. I followed, eyes flicking between him and the ring of now silent skinwalkers, watching with mixed interest and terror. My gaze turned back to him as my shoulders shook with tension and fury.
"Why?" I asked him and watched his nose scrunch at the question. "Why come after me? What's the point?"
"It's the end of days, sweetheart," he exclaimed with his arms held wide, dropping his grimace in favor of a sneer. "Only the strongest survive the end of the world. Only one can lead."
"I don't want to lead shit," I spat, gesturing wildly to the crowd where my pack hid somewhere. "I didn't even want to be an alpha! None of this was my choice!"
"I don't care," Braxton snapped, baring his fangs. "Neither will he."
My eyes widened at his words, stumbling slightly. "He? You don't mean-"
I shouted in shock as he lunged forward and held my hands upward in a block. His claws raked through my skin, tearing ribbons into the flesh. I gripped my bleeding forearm and ducked his swinging punch, bruised knuckles flying over my head. With a mighty snarl, I barreled into him, crashing into him with as much force as I could muster.
The pair of us clattered to the ground. I climbed up his torso, claws pricking his flesh. He caught my closed fist as I swung, yanking me forward until there was enough room for his knee to plunge into my ribs. I heard a sickening crack as the blow connected and the wind was knocked from my lungs with a shaky hiss.
He drew back again and this time his foot made contact with my stomach, sending me flying several feet. My back made rough contact with the earth, gravel digging into my exposed limbs. I wheezed and twisted on the ground, holding onto my stomach. Blood soaked through my shirt, the sticky fabric clinging to my flesh. I coughed, blood and spit dripping from my lips as I pulled myself to my hands and knees. My ribs ached and my side throbbed, the wound tearing open again with every inhale.
I screamed as his hands wove around my ankles and pulled me backward, forcing me to collapse onto my chest. I scrabbled at the gravel, searching for purchase as he dragged me across the ground, back into the center of the makeshift ring.
I choked out a sob as his steel-toed boots made contact with my ribs, just above my heavily bleeding wound. He stomped with his other, crushing down on my back, flattening me to the ground.
"This is what a third-generation skinwalker is made of!?" he shouted over the uproar of the crowd. The heel of his boot met my outstretched hand, fighting to pull myself away from him. I screamed as he dug the heel in, feeling my bones snap beneath the weight. "This is the Black Dog we've heard so much about!?" he shouted, a laugh ripping from his throat.
I shrieked as his hand found purchase in my hair, dragging me to my knees. My claws feebly raked at his arm. My breath came out stuttered, ragged, blood dripping down my arm. My eyelids fluttered in pain as he tugged, baring my throat to the crowd.
"Didn't get to shift and the fight is already over!" he shouted with a triumphant laugh. His grip on my hair loosened and I collapsed to the ground. I pulled myself onto my forearms, shaking and heaving, hardly noticing the gravel and sand that dug into the open wounds on my arm.
I was tired. So fucking tired. Nine days of running and fighting and fearing for my life. My body was ready to give out, collapsing in on itself. It was giving up. My breath hitched as I forced myself to rise onto my hands and knees. His boot kicked out again, meeting my sternum. I collapsed onto my side, curling in on myself.
I reached one hand down to my side, pressing against the torn skin there. My wrist burned with the effort of rolling it, my other broken hand tucked neatly in my side. My fingertips skimmed my blood-soaked shirt. The skin underneath was definitely shredded, and the wound reopened. Even my new bandages were soaked and not doing much to stop the flow of blood.
I felt lightheaded.
A gasp ripped from my lungs as his hand found my hair again, hoisting me up enough that his hand would wrap around my throat. I thrashed in his hold and dug my claws into his wrist as his nails dug into the sides of my throat. I flinched and shut my eyes tightly as he squeezed, my breaths coming out ragged until I couldn't inhale anymore.
I scrunched my nose in disgust when he leaned closer, his lips practically pressed to my ear. Hot breaths fanned my skin, my flesh tingling, and blood burning just beneath the surface. The world began to spin, the sounds of the roaring crowd and distant screams becoming quieter and quieter. His rough, grating voice broke through the silence, nothing more than a whisper in my ear.
"I'm going to tear your heart out," he huffed out, sounding out of breath. "And I'm going to make them all watch while I rip the rest of you apart. I'm going to make your friends watch."
Blood trickled down my throat where his claws dug in, light incisions that sent a flare of pain across my skin. My heart hammered in my chest, though I didn't know if it was from fear or the struggle for oxygen. Either way, every cell in my body was telling me I was about to die. I could feel my heart stuttering in my chest, and my head growing lighter.
Suddenly sparks flashed behind my eyelids. Bright lights, flashes of a cloudy sky, and an abandoned town. A brass bell with a massive oak tree burnished on its surface.
And then my skin was burning.
I screamed although it came out as more of a croak. My hands reached for Braxton's wrists, pain forgotten and replaced with a burning sensation. I felt like I was falling apart, like something inside of me was shattering. A rubber band snapped, ricocheting through my chest until I was shaking and practically convulsing. Something had gone horribly wrong.
Behind my eyelids, I could see two fuzzy shapes, one crumpled against the other. My back, just below my ribs stung with such a sharp agonizing pain that fur burst forth from my back and spine. The image cleared and my skin felt raw with agony, like I was coated in third-degree burns.
Sam.
My eyes snapped open and I reached behind my head to grip Braxton's arm. I stretched so far back that I was sure I was going to dislocate my shoulder, but I didn't care. The pain was gone, replaced with something else entirely. My blood burned, and my skin itched with the chill of death.
A bond had snapped, and so had I.
My claws gripped Braxton's arm, so deep that my fingertips pierced his flesh up to the first knuckle. He screamed as I dragged my fingers downward until my claws popped loose at his elbow, taking a spray of blood with it. He released my throat and gripped his mangled forearm as another scream tore from his lungs. I collapsed forward into the gravel and coughed, a trail of bloody saliva leaving my lips.
Sam was dead. I felt it, felt him die, felt my bond to him shatter like glass.
I pulled myself to my hands and knees and choked back a sob. I couldn't feel him. My back stung and grief rolled off me in waves. I reached across the bond I had built with him, more fragile than with my pack, but still there. A whine split from my throat when it felt flat, shriveling, and dying as the seconds ticked by.
And then I was angry. I should have been there, I should have been with Sam. Maybe I could have done something, I could have helped in some way. But no, I was here, with a man who was trying to murder me in front of a massive crowd. My back arched as I struggled to pull myself to my feet, swaying from exhaustion and intense hatred that clouded my judgment so supremely that I couldn't see straight.
I saw red. At the edges of my vision, the vibrant color blossomed, overtaking the muted colors of the surrounding forest. The shocked noise of the crowd pulled away as I dragged myself to my feet, slouched forward, and nearly crouched over the ground.
A roar from behind me met my ears and I lifted my head sharply, feeling my muscles spasm at the sharp movement. In a flash, I spun and lashed out with my claws. The sharp ends met the soft flesh of Braxton's cheek, his own fist meeting my shoulder.
I stumbled and fell once more to my hands and knees. My muscles ached and I could feel recent wounds reopening, coupling with new ones. The moment my palms hit the gravel I pushed myself to my feet again and stumbled forward until I caught my balance. I whirled on the Tervuren, who was bent forward slightly, his fingertips pressed to his torn cheek.
He withdrew his fingers to inspect the blood that dripped down his palm and wrist. His eyes fixed on mine as he prodded the open wound with his tongue, the tip poking through the ragged edges of the wound. I gagged at the sight and took a few slow steps back. Braxton advanced in slow steps at first but lunged into a sprint with fire in his eyes. With a snarl, he ripped through his clothes, fur taking its place. The scraps of fabric fell to the ground as he pounded across the gravel, leaping gracefully into the air.
I side-stepped, narrowly missing a wide, tan paw with claws as thick and nearly as long as my fingers. The tervuren skidded in the gravel and snarled with such raw anger that many of the skinwalkers in the crowd flinched. I held my arms high, ready for his next attack.
The next attack didn't come from in front of me. Instead, I was tackled to the earth by a sudden weight on my back, and fangs sunk deep into my shoulder. I screamed and arched my back, feeling my wrist give as I struggled to push myself upwards.
The mass above me yelped as it was dragged backward, fangs leaving my flesh with a sickening pop. I rolled onto my back to see a much larger-than-standard Norwegian Elkhound on her back legs, lashing out at... Gator? The much smaller brindle dog nipped and tore at the elkhound with such viciousness that I swore she had a vendetta.
I spun once more to face the Tervuren, whose tail lashed like a whip. The skinwalkers separated from the crowd, drawing closer to him with their teeth bared. I glared at the approaching monsters and rolled my shoulder, inspecting the damage.
"I thought this was just between you and me, Brax," I leered, my voice coming out hoarse and strained, lips drawn back to reveal bloodstained fangs. "Not scared are you?"
A growl ripped from his throat as he lunged forward, paws kicking up gravel and dust behind him. I started to side-step him again, only to have a weight knock me from behind, pushing me directly into his oncoming attack.
I didn't even will it to happen. My bones snapped and rearranged, and my skin split open to allow fur to spring forth. My whole body expanded in a matter of seconds, my clothes shredding along with the control I had over my emotions. That itch in the back of my mind had returned in full force now. It was the only thing keeping me going, keeping me alive.
Braxton crashed into me and we rolled in a flurry of snapping jaws and slashing claws. My paw collided with the side of his skull, forcing his head into the dirt. He twisted and sunk his fangs into my paw and I felt the broken bones roll. With a snarl I dipped my head and sunk my fangs into his shoulder, grinding it between my jaws.
A set of jaws clamped around where my spine met my hips and dragged me backward, teeth leaving the Tervuren's shoulder with a sickening pop. I spun and bit into the beast's scruff, sending it flying through the silt with one toss. A sharp howl met my ears and I turned to see Marcus and Caeden working their way into the fray, side by side as always.
I howled in pain as teeth found the back of my neck and yanked me backward. A snarl ripped its way from my lips as I twisted, feeling fur rip from my skin in the process. My own fangs collided with the expanse of the Tervuren's chest. Blood filled my jaws as my top teeth hooked into his flesh. I yanked my head away, tearing a chunk with me.
I dropped to the earth at the sound of a sharp growl behind me, feeling my fur condense and my form shift. The beast sailed overhead and collided with Braxton, narrowly missing my human form. I wheezed out an exhausted breath and swayed slightly as I pulled myself back to my feet and lunged forward again, allowing the fur that was just below my skin to resurface.
I gripped the beast's spine tightly between my jaws, fangs slotting neatly between the gaps in its ribs. It yelped in fright as I tossed it, sending it sailing through the air towards where the others watched, prepared to handle any more interference.
I snapped at the tervuren as he leaped onto my back, fangs digging into the loose skin on the back of my neck. I twisted my head until my teeth latched around his undamaged arm and bit down. Blood welled up in my mouth as he howled and the bone snapped, sending a ripple of pain through his limb. He muffled his howl of pain by sinking his fangs into my neck, just at the base of my skull.
I trashed in his hold, head throbbing and feeling light the longer he pushed. A snarl that came out as more of a scream ripped from my lungs as I thrashed against him, holding the note to the point that his ears flattened at the wail. The earth seemed to shake beneath my feet as I swayed, feeling blood careen down my neck.
A flash of heat washed over me and I tumbled forward. My skin burned, ragged and torn, and blisteringly hot like a wildfire beneath the surface. Braxton tumbled backward, teeth leaving my flesh. I exhaled shakily and stumbled on shaky paws. Everything felt hot, scorchingly so. The crowd shifted uncomfortably as waves of heat rolled off of me. My head throbbed with a pressure that was so similar to what I had felt when I first met the tervuren.
Y/N? rang out a familiar voice in the back of my mind. I winced and opened my eyes slowly, a pounding headache sending flares of pain down my spine. When I lifted my head my eyes flew wide. Stretching out around me were nine dim tendrils that flared like fire every few seconds. Pulsing. My gaze followed the heated tendrils, dipping into the crowd while one arched above. My eyes followed one that ended right in front of me, ending right in front of Calliope's chest.
Holy shit, I thought, watching her stumble backward at the sight. I barked out a laugh, although it came out as more of a strangled wheeze. I did it.
Augustine's gruff tone sounded in my mind, sending a shiver up my spine. He blanched, his shock radiating out over the line. What the hell is-
Look out! came Sasha's scream, drowning out his words. I turned just in time to see Braxton lunging toward me. I ducked, twisting onto my back and lunging upwards. Claws and fur and fangs collided, his paws meeting the soft flesh below my rib cage while my teeth met the base of his throat. I pushed my hind legs up, throwing him backward until we rolled with him on his back and my fangs buried in his shoulder.
I shook my head violently, fangs sinking deeper into the joint underneath his shoulder blade. I snarled and met his eyes as I crushed down harder. A flare of heat left my body and from the corners of my vision, I saw tendrils shoot out left and right. Feelings of awe, terror, and absolute shock had me rocking in place, like a tidal wave of emotions that weren't mine. Thoughts that weren't my own ran rampant in my eyes.
My fangs left his broken and bloodied shoulder in favor of his ribs. His claws swiped at my cheek, at my neck, battered and bruised my bloodied sides. His back leg caught my mangled thigh, sending my leg buckling beneath me. And still, I sunk my fangs deeper into his flesh, nearly choking on the blood that filled my mouth.
Images swam past my eyes, forest runs that didn't belong to me, attacks and bites that weren't my own, the smiles of laughter and loved ones that only they knew. Memories. Just as I had seen with Caeden over a year ago, their lives were flashing before me as I drew them in. Whispers of wonder and astonishment filled my ears as I angled my head enough that Braxton's flesh and muscle tore beneath me, fur coming with it.
I let my rage seep out over the newfound connections, feeling the raised hackles and snarls that followed. I pressed one paw into his throat and dug my claws in, feeling blood well up between my toes. He wheezed, lashing out at my shredded arm to no avail. I only pressed down harder as my fangs sought out the weakest part of his ribs.
A snarl tore through me, a wave of heat following. More images of families, hunts, and fights filled my vision, more thoughts swimming just below the surface. Whispers rang in my mind like a shrill pitch that just wouldn't cease. Bones cracked beneath me, splintering as I ripped and tore at everything I could reach.
I shook with anger and everything burned. My gaze met the Tervuren's as wave after wave of heat rolled off of me. Blood coated his fur and dripped from his mouth. His eyes were blown wide with shock. This wasn't supposed to happen, this wasn't how it was meant to go. He was supposed to be the next king, the white wolf's equal.
The clearing fell silent as I stared him down. His chest rose and fell in sharp breaths, lungs filling with blood, ribs torn apart. He was a dead man, and he knew it. Panic settled in his eyes as his gaze flicked between me, my blood-soaked fangs, his open chest, and the ring of silent observers. I dipped my head low, a growl rumbling in my throat as I held my muzzle beside his ear.
Still want them to watch? I purred, my voice ringing out in his mind. It was just a whisper, a tickle in the back of his head. His hazel eyes turned to mine, wide with terror as I lifted my head and bared my fangs.
He thrashed as my fangs found his throat and began to squeeze. I didn't take it slow as he had done with me. I squeezed, feeling his throat collapse and blood drip between my jaws. He wheezed, struggling for exhaustion as he flailed, battering me softly with his paws. Terror filled the clearing as he fought against the knowledge that he had lost.
I met his gaze one final time with my nose pressed to his torn and bleeding chest. His chest hitched and stuttered as he choked on his own blood. I didn't wait for his eyes to darken and for him to fall still. Ironically, I was gentle with how I ripped and tore tearing him open further, Blood soaked the gravel, clung to my paws, and left prints in the dirt. My jaws closed around his heart, the muscle faintly beating.
I gripped it tight and wrenched my head back. I stumbled forward with the bleeding muscle in my grasp. It fell from my bloody jaws, collapsing to earth at his side. He convulsed as I swayed. The red filling the edges of my vision slowly darkened to black. My vision swam as I swayed and stumbled backward.
I spread my paws and held my head high, staring into the crowd with blazing golden eyes that had shivers of awe and horror rolling down spines. I tipped my head back, pulled back my gums, and released an ear-splitting howl of victory, raw and angry and exhausted. The glade seemed to shake as my howl broke the silence. As the note carried, others joined in, their keening notes marking the beginning of a new age. A new pack.
I stumbled and my legs gave out. I toppled to the ground, a shout ringing out not long after. Sasha's faint voice filled the clearing as the sound of footsteps racing across the gravel near me. I laid my head in the gravel and allowed my fur to recede. My skin was stained with blood, dirt, and a general mess. I doubted there wasn't an inch of me that wasn't stained red.
I rolled slowly onto my back and turned my gaze on Braxton's limp body. Like all skinwalkers, his fur had receded as well when his body finally gave out. Blood pooled beneath him, a sea of red on an otherwise pristine driveway. My eyes flickered to a blinding form standing over his body.
White fir glistened in the waning sunlight, dipping below the trees. Bursts of pink and yellow filled the sky at the end of the day. The white wolf stared silently down at Braxton, an unreadable expression on his serene expression.
My breathing stuttered and he turned his gaze to me. Fiery red eyes met my gaze and my world spun and went dark.
---
My whole body shook as I gasped, inhaling deep gulps of air that had my chest convulsing. I coughed and sputtered, groaning at the pain that wracked my body. Quiet shushing and a gentle hand smoothing my hair had me gasping one last time before I opened my eyes.
I met Sasha's worried gaze, her eyes swimming with concern and fear. In her hands was a roll of gauze, a roll that I recognized from the backpack I had forced her to take when we were separated. I struggled to sit up, an unbroken hand clutching at my side where my wound had split open.
"Wait wait, stop moving!" she shouted and I flinched, my ears ringing. She swore softly under her breath as her warm pal pressed against the bare skin of my bloodstained stomach, urging me to lie back down. I complied, pushing myself up slightly on my elbows to watch her work with half-lidded eyes.
She shook her head and clucked her tongue in a near disapproving way. Her eyes filled with tears as she drew her lip between her teeth, picking up a needle and thread that had been discarded on a towel at my side.
"I don't know how you're still alive," she sniffed with a shake of her head. She choked back a sob, her hands shaking wildly as the needle plunged into my skin. "God I- we all thought..."
I lifted my good hand and placed it on top of her own in what I hoped was a comforting manner, shaking just as much as she was. She nodded at my action and continued with her work. I leaned back again, inspecting the work she had already done.
My skin was littered with small cuts, large scrapes, and dappled bruises. The mangled tears on my arm were covered now, wrapped with a tight bandage. My neck was stiff, gauze and bandages clinging to the surface of it in patches with Braxton's claws had left shred marks. My thigh was rewrapped, although blood already soaked through in spots. My ribs were wrapped tightly, supporting the fractured bones beneath the surface. My chest rattled with every shaky inhale.
"Where are the others?" I croaked out, voice hoarse with tension and exhaustion. Sasha lifted her head slightly and glanced at me from the corner of her now broken glasses.
"Taking care of the wounded. Hidalgo and I salvaged what we could from the bunkhouse. The main house was... already too far gone, but we managed to get some medical supplies and blankets from the bunkhouse. Figured we might be able to help out."
I nodded along with her words and tipped my head back and to the side. With blurry eyes, I scanned the crowd, skinwalkers clustered into tight groups. They sat in the dirt or the grass, giving Sasha and me a wide berth. I caught Andrew and Calliope side by side hovering beside a group of seven, passing out the few supplies they had.
"How are you feeling?" I asked, watching as Sasha froze with an unraveled strip of gauze in her hand. She furrowed her brows before resuming her work, pressing against my skin as tenderly as she could.
"You almost died and you're asking me how I am?"
I bit back a laugh, knowing how much it would hurt. "You were sick when we got separated. I just... want to know if you still are, or if he hurt you."
Her lips twitched into a soft smile as she dug through the roll of bandages on the towel beside me. She cut a square of sticky bandages long enough to cover my wound and began applying them to my skin. "I'm still sick. Will be for a while," she answered with a nervous smile. I lifted a brow at that. "I'll tell you later."
Sasha sat back and inspected her handiwork. I glanced down to see a large wrapping all the way around my midsection, much like on my ribs, to keep my newly applied bandages in place. "That should do it," she said with a grimace, wiping her bloodstained hands on her jeans. "Let's get you dressed."
It was a painful process, both physically and mentally. I was embarrassed by how much my movement was restricted, by the fact that I needed help in dressing myself. I was glad that I had chosen baggy clothes - a pair of loose-fitting denim shorts and an old t-shirt of Sam's. I tucked the shirt into my shorts, hoping that I looked a bit less like a toddler trying on their father's clothes.
Sam.
My head jerked up, neck flaring in pain. I spun wildly, stumbling on my shaky legs. Sam, oh God. "Phone," I rasped. Sasha stuttered out a quiet question but I cut her off. "Phone! I need a phone - is it still in the bag?"
She blanched before jumping into action at my obvious frenzy. Her small hands dug through my emergency bag, finally managing to withdraw my brick of an emergency phone. I took it from her with shaky hands. I typed in the number hurriedly and held the phone to my ear, split lip caught between my teeth. Please pick up, please pick up.
"You've reached Dean's other other cell-"
"Fuck!" I shouted, earning some startled gazes from a nearby group. I hit the redial button and waited for the ringing.
"You've reached-"
I slammed the phone shut, chest heaving with worry. Part of me felt butterflies after not having heard his voice for so long. Unfortunately, the rational side of me recognized that his absence was not a good sign. I huffed and flipped the phone open again, tying another number in. I held the phone to my ear, waiting for it to ring.
On the third ring, the call dropped, much too quick to be a normal end. He had clicked deny. I breathed out a sigh of relief before hitting redial again, waiting. Again, deny. I tried once more, worrying my lips between my teeth until I tasted blood on my tongue.
The sound of an obvious click on the other end had my heart soaring. "Not now-" came an angry, exhausted, and grieving voice. Before he had a chance to end the call, I spoke.
"Bobby?"
Silence. I opened my mouth to speak again after several long seconds, only to hear a shaky breath on his end.
"Y/N? Is that really..." he exhaled into the speaker, his breath hitching. "Oh thank God, we were so worried... where- where are you? Are you safe-?"
"Bobby, where's Sam?" I wheezed into the speaker, my lungs deflating. Something told me I already knew. That I had felt it happen.
"Y/N-"
"Is he alive?" I demanded, voice harsh. Bobby fell silent, save for a quiet sniff on the other end.
"No," he finally answered. It was the voice of a broken man, who wasn't sure what to do. "No, he... that bastard demon..." I swore quietly under my breath and pinched my brow, willing the tears that welled up in my eyes to dissipate. I had already known, but, somehow, the confirmation hurt more.
"Where are you?"
"Cold Oak, South Dakota. Why-?"
"Wait for me there, Bobs. I'll- I'll be there soon, OK?" With that I hung up the call, leaving him sputtering on the other end. I inhaled slowly, feeling my ribs shake as my lungs inflated. Everything crashed into me at once and my world spun as tears slid down my cheeks, sobs hiccuping in my throat.
I almost died. It had been so long since I had felt true terror, felt that I was inches away from death. But this time when I felt it, I had just... let it happen. God, what was wrong with me? I nearly gave it all up, nearly let my pack fall into the hands of that bastard. I wiped the back of my good hand over my eyes, the wrappings over my wrist soaked in tears.
I had finally, finally managed to connect with my pack after months and months of trying. They had heard me. I let out a relieved gasp which dissolved into soft chuckles that eventually turned into sobs again. Maybe now I would finally get my answers.
And Sam was dead. My closest friend was dead and I... I was in love with my best friend. Oh God, I was in love. That was never supposed to happen, I was supposed to squash that stupid crush before it could grow. And now here I was, in love and ready to give everything I was to a human. A hunter, no less.
The sound of gravel crunching beneath boots behind me fell on deaf ears. "You look like shit," came a tired voice. I jumped and spun to face Booth, jaw slack and eyes puffy with tears. My lips split into a wide grin that no doubt looked horrifying with all the blood staining my face and teeth.
"Speak for yourself," I teased, hiccuping out another sob. Booth's brows furrowed and he had hardly lifted his arms in a beckoning hug before I was on him, sobbing loudly into his clothed shoulder. He winced as my forehead pressed into his silver burns, but showed no pain other than that. His rough hands smoothed my hair, holding me in a gentle hug.
When I finally lifted my head, I realized we weren't alone. I slowly stepped back from Booth as my eyes met the wide eyes of the woman from earlier. She was beautiful, even with bruised skin and tired eyes. Her cheeks were round, her hips were round, and her eyes were round. Her skin was dark and her hair even darker, thick and tightly curled. Her deep eyes shone with a kindness that I saw in very few.
I blinked once, twice, at the two figures by her side. A young boy and girl, the girl no older than ten and her poofy dark hair done in two buns at the top of her head. The boy was much younger, maybe four or five years, and clung to his mother's shirt, staring at me with wide eyes.
"Y/N, I'd like you to meet Gina," Booth spoke softly as he placed a hand on either of her shoulders from behind. She lifted one soft hand to his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "And her kids, Aniyah," he pointed to the little girl, "and Isaiah."
I smiled weakly at the three of them and extended my good hand to Gina in a greeting. She took it nervously, clasping it firmly in her own. "It's... nice to meet you."
"They kept me alive while I was... gone," Booth spoke up, giving Gina's shoulders a gentle squeeze. "Patched me up. Fed me. I owe them my life." Gina smiled softly, her brows furrowed in silent disagreement. I nodded along with his words, watching as he leaned forward to whisper a quiet order in Gina's ear. She nodded and gave his hand one last squeeze before leading her kids off towards one of the crowds.
"She's beautiful," I spoke in a hushed tone as I watched Gina corral her shocked kids towards Hidalgo and Sasha offering medical aid to a nearby group.
"Yeah... sweet too," Both replied with a sigh, his eyes fixed on her retreating form. After several long seconds, he turned back to me, his tired eyes holding a slew of affection. "I really do owe her everything. I wouldn't be here without her."
I nodded slowly at his words, watching him talk quietly with the couple, her hands held tightly in Sasha's. "Then I owe her my life too. Whatever she needs, I'll do my best to get it for her."
Booth exhaled shakily and nodded. "Thank you." We fell silent, taking in the loose ring of groups, the clearing nearly dead silent, aside from the soft voices of our family. "It's about time you speak to them, right?"
I sighed and pursed my lips, wincing at the twinge of pain from my split lip. "I don't know what to say."
Booth hummed. "Just be honest, I guess. It's cheesy, but... speak from the heart." I nodded slowly, brows furrowed. He nudged me gently in the arm before bringing his fingers to his lips. He let out a shrill whistle and the entire clearing fell silent, all eyes on us. "You're up, boss," he said with a reassuring smile and then slipped off into the crowd.
I inhaled shakily and spun in a slow circle, taking everything in. How many of them were there? There had to be at least sixty, though I wasn't sure. I stopped my slow turning and shook out my hands. I could do this. I had done it once before, and I could do it again.
"Hi," I began just as lamely the first time I had been in this situation. I cringed a bit and breathed out softly, willing myself to continue. "Look, I... it's obvious we can't stay here," I finally launched into my speech, gesturing vaguely to my charred home, the embers dying out now. "So I have two options for all of you.
"First option. You stick with us," this time I gestured in the general directions of my packmates. "You stick with us, and we find somewhere new. We can keep you safe - I can keep you safe. My only request is that you stop hunting humans." A ripple of murmurs passed through the crowd but were silenced as quickly as they had started by a sharp snarl in the crowd. I flicked my eyes towards Caeden, who offered me a sharp nod.
"The second option is to leave. It's an individual choice, obviously. None of you are obligated to stay. You don't owe me your loyalty." Again, the crowd rippled with shock. Just how totalitarian had Braxton been? "Even if you decide to stay, you can change your mind. I'll never force you to stay."
I sighed and ran my tightly bound broken hand through my hair. "I have to get moving soon. I have... friends that need me. So you all need to make your decisions quickly. Are you going to stay and give up human hearts, or are you going to leave?" With that, I trudged across the driveway towards Sasha, Booth, and Hidalgo.
The others followed soon after and we formed a ring, the nine of them listening intently for my next instructions. I surveyed the group. Black eyes, bruises, scrapes, cuts, and what looked to be a broken arm on Andrew met me. To my surprise, their eyes were all bright - exhausted, but bright.
"We need to find somewhere to go, just a safe place to set up shop for a while," I finally spoke. "Any ideas?"
"Last place that we considered safe got burned down," Gator grumbled around a swollen and busted lip, her hand on Calliope's shoulder. "Seems like his MO," she snorted out a laugh and gestured over her shoulder towards the bloody mess on the ground left by Braxton. I grimaced at her crassness.
"We could find a trailer park or something," Andrew piped up, offering a reassuring smile. "Or maybe an old junkyard. Somewhere where no one goes. There's one just an hour north of here-"
"We shouldn't stay anywhere close by," Hidalgo jumped in, his eyes flicking from me to Andrew. "We don't know who else might be out there, looking for scraps after that fight. It's best to move far away from here."
"So we need somewhere abandoned and far away?" Augustine grumbled under thick, furrowed brows. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't exactly have any abandoned towns on my radar."
"Abandoned towns?" Calliope voiced aloud, perking up immediately. "What about that one we stayed the night in back in June?"
"It's far from here," Booth chimed in with a tip of his head and shrug of his shoulders. "Clearly been empty for years. It's a damn good start until we find something better."
I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I thought about it. It was far - but it was pretty damn close to Cold Oak, maybe three or four hours away. Probably six to eight hours from Bobby's junkyard. "OK," I finally answered, lifting my head slowly so as not to hurt my neck. "Yeah, that could work. We'll take two groups - Booth, Cal, you two can take most of them to the town, since you know where it is. I'll take a few to-"
"You're not coming with us?" Calliope questioned, freezing up. She looked subtly panicked, her eyes flicking to the waiting crowd filled with quiet mutters.
"I will soon, but... look, something happened to Sam. I- I've got to go help them," I sucked in a shaky breath through my teeth and hung my head a bit. "I just need a handful with me - enough that if things turn ugly, I've got some backup. I'm not exactly set for a fight," I said with a creaking laugh.
"You shouldn't be going anywhere," Marcus snapped a bit harsher than he intended. I snapped my gaze towards him and he shrunk back slightly at the glare I shot him. "You're missing chunks, hun. You can't honestly be thinking about jumping into a hunt with them."
"I won't be hunting," I argued, balling my good hand into an irritated fist. "They need me right now, Sam-" I swallowed dryly, cutting myself off. "I'm going. I won't be gone long, but they need me."
"Then I'm going with you," Marcus said with a note of finality and crossed his arms over his chest. He huffed, blowing a strand of his now rather long and messy blond hair out of his face. Caeden stared at him down with narrowed eyes but didn't argue.
"If he's goin', so am I," Gator added with a gap-toothed smile. "Lord knows this pussy can't defend you for shit," Marcus growled low in his throat, earning a stuck-out tongue from the pink-haired girl.
"OK. You two come with me, the rest of you follow Booth and Cal." I lifted my head up and peered into the crowd. "Take that barbarian beta of his with you. I'll take the other. I want those two separated, and she seems like the type to not want to pick a fight in a crowd."
Calliope tensed by my side as the others agreed with my plan, some rather reluctantly. We dispersed, those that were going with Booth and Calliope gathering the groups together and doing a headcount. As far as I knew, some of them had arrived in vehicles, some by foot. There was a solid chance we could have a mix of runners and drivers, maybe even take shifts. It would certainly be a more convenient way to carry the injured.
"Y/N," Calliope spoke up softly, drawing my attention to her. She wrung her hands softly, her gaze fixed on... someone in the crowd. I tried to follow her eyes but to no avail. "Is there... anyway I can tag along with you?"
I lifted one brow in confusion, taking in her worried state. "Why? Cal, what's wrong?"
She exhaled slowly and turned her blue eyes on mine. "Just a, uh... a bad feeling is all." She flashed me a reassuring smile. "And I don't particularly want to go anywhere without Gator. We got pretty close while we were, you know." I nodded slowly.
"I don't see why not," I answered, watching her shoulder relax with relief. "But we need to get a move on. I've already spent too much time here." She nodded vigorously and offered me a quiet thank you before running off to find the rest of the group.
I paced down the driveway, eyes on the towering pillar of smoke that seemed to get lost in the darkening sky. The blue paint of my home was long gone, one of the first things to go up. My loft had crumbled to the ground, likely leaving nothing left. The porch was charred, but still relatively intact, My walls were crumbling, paintings, furniture, and mementos, all gone up in flames.
I'd have to start over. It was a daunting thought, to say the least. I screwed my eyes shut at the loss; it was like the loss of life. The loss of my own life. With the house, a part of me died. All my memories with Dennis were just that now - memories. I had nothing left to remember him by. Nothing but the scars from my hunts with him and the lingering feeling of his warm hugs, but even those were beginning to fade.
"Alpha," Booth spoke softly from behind me. I spun to face him, blinking away the tears that formed in my eyes. He pursed his lips but chose not to mention it. "We got that headcount you wanted, and you're not going to believe this," he barked out a laugh. "Sixty-three."
I shook my head in shock. "Sixty-three total?"
"Sixty-three decided to stay," Booth said with a roaring, shocked laugh. My own lips split into a wide grin. "A bit over a dozen decided to leave, but sixty-three chose to say, not including the ten of us," I swore softly under my breath in amazement. "There's about seven that are willing to go with you, including his male beta. Jeremiah, I think his name is."
"What about cars? Do we have enough to make it to Wyoming?"
"Plenty. We're going to have to make some run alongside, but we've got enough space for the wounded and the few kids with us. Hell, we probably have room for supplies that we get along the way."
I felt almost giddy. "That's- wow. OK, yeah, take the trucks and get them to Wyoming. I'll take the others on foot. We'll meet you back there soon, yeah?"
"You're already packed up," he responded with a cheery smile. "We got you what supplies we could muster, some extra medicine. Sasha's got your gun packed in with your bag, in case you need it."
I swallowed dryly, holding back my flood of emotion. I let it spill over in the form of a hug, throwing my arms over Booth's shoulders, despite the pain of the action. He huffed as I topped into him, wrapping his wide hands around my back.
"Good luck, kid," he mumbled into my hair and pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of my head. "Take care of those boys of yours." I choked back a sob. I really had to stop crying.
I pulled away from him and held him at arm's length, glaring playfully at him. "Thank you, Booth. And take care of that new girl of yours. She seems to really like you," I teased with a smile.
The tips of Booth's ears darkened, the closest to a blush the burly man was going to get. "I'm too old for her. Too old for kids."
"No harm in trying though, right?" I replied, clapping him on the shoulder with my good hand. "I'll see you soon." He nodded and placed a gentle hand on my back, shoving me on my way. I traipsed down the driveway, limping and cursing myself with every step.
I found my group pretty quickly, shaking their hands despite their wariness. When I reached Jeremiah I gave the thin-faced man a stern look. I kept my grip on his hand a fraction longer than the others, a silent warning to him. I didn't know this man, but if he was Braxton's beta I had no reason to trust him yet. He swallowed dryly, his eyes flicking over my wounds. My bandaged arm, my broken hand, my mangled ear.
I released his hand and we were on our way.
It was slow going. We were all battered and exhausted, and running was a nightmare for almost all of us. The only decent part of the trek was that I was able to take my mind off Sam. I still hadn't come to terms with it - I knew I never would, not until I saw it for myself. I was living in a state of denial, throwing myself into bonding with my new pack members.
I felt guilty every time my mind wandered to Dean. I knew he was hurting. I didn't doubt that he was lashing out, that he felt guilty and blamed himself, that he was running through the scenarios thinking about what he could have done differently. I knew because I did the same when I lost my own blood family.
Two and a half days later, we had finally drawn close. My fur itched with worry and grief. Would Dean be angry with me, just as he had been when I left after the Benders case? Had they given Sam a hunter's funeral yet, or were they waiting? Was Dean even around, or had he disappeared to grieve on his own, leaving Bobby alone with guilt and sorrow. My mind raced and tail lashed as I trotted along with a set of railroad tracks. The trees were thinning now, becoming scraggly. We were close. I could feel it.
My ears perked at the sight of something looming over the tops of the trees. It looked like... a windmill? I quickened my pace from a hobble to an easy lope. This had to be it. My heart fluttered in my chest. What would I find here?
My group fanned out along the tracks as we approached, glancing briefly at worn fences or broken wheels half-buried in the dirt. No one had lived here in a very long time. I lifted my nose into the air, hoping- praying that I might catch a familiar scent.
Finally, the forest opened and gave way to a small rustic town in the distance. My party stopped when I did, watching as I scanned the landscape. Before us was a wide dirt road, caked with mud and lined with rundown buildings on either side. Opposite it was a fence, one section of it collapsed on the ground and the windmill that towered behind it. I narrowed my eyes, scanning the mud.
Blood.
Blood mixed with the deep browns of the earth caught my vision. I could smell it now, the stagnant water doing little to conceal the scent. Death lingered in the air. I pressed my one ear flat against my skull and pulled back my lips in a grimace.
Search the town, I ordered, slowly getting the hang of speaking to them. My head twinged with pain, the pressure returning behind my eyes. But it was so much more than I had been able to achieve in the past. Howl if you find anything.
I was answered by a few huffs and nothing more as they split off into pairs. I nudged Marcus with my hip, sending him in the direction of Jeremiah - I wanted him supervised at all times. The blonde wolf-dog grumbled and slumped over to the other first-generation, who watched him with a calculated gaze. The pair slunk off into the shadows, Marcus in the lead.
I limped forward and scanned the area. If Dean was here, then so was the Impala right? The mud held no trace of tire marks, no scent of the oil. Just bare boot print indentations that left nothing to go by. In fact, there were so many footprints that I couldn't pick out which ones were Dean's.
Maybe they had walked through the woods? I couldn't see any access road into the town. It looked as if the whole area was surrounded by forests on either side. I hobbled forward, claws digging into the soft earth with each step. I stopped over the scent of blood and tilted my head to survey it.
There was hardly any discoloration. Hell, if anyone but a monster was here, I doubted they would have even noticed. Maybe I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't known to look for it. I tipped my head closer, scrutinizing the spot. What had happened here? The only image I had been afforded was a glimpse of Sam's body collapsed into Dean, his brother holding him upright in a tight grasp.
A shrill howl pierced the air and my head shot up, my neck flaring up in pain. My legs were moving before my mind caught up, my wrist giving out as I stepped. I didn't bother stopping, instead plowing forward at a hobbling run. I crashed through the mud and tore between houses, searching for the source of the sound.
Finally, a flash of blond caught my eyes and I skidded in the muddy street. Marcus stood on the front porch while three others, including Jeremiah, waited at the base of the steps, their legs coated in mud. My breath hitched as he tipped his furred head towards the door.
My fur receded and I stood to my full height, chest heaving with tremulous breaths. They had found Sam. I took one slow step forward and met Marcus' green eyes again. They gave nothing away, fixated on me instead.
"Go find the others," I ordered as I padded slowly towards the porch. The blond wolf-dog nodded and nipped playfully at Jeremiah's heels, earning a growl from the shaggier wolf. The other two followed sheepishly behind, their eyes flicking from me to the ground as they passed.
I stood frozen at the base of the steps, heart hammering in my chest and fingers twitching with nerves. It was all too real now, and seeing Sam in there, lifeless... that would just cement it. I exhaled slowly and placed one foot on the bottom step, feeling it creak and bend under my weight.
I could do it. I had to do it. There was no avoiding it forever.
I climbed the steps slowly and paused once more in the doorway. I didn't want to look up. I didn't want it to be real-
A groan tore across the room and I jerked my head up in shock. It took several seconds for my brain to catch up with what my eyes were seeing. Sam Winchester rolled into a sitting position on the cot he had been lying on just moments before, his head in his hands rubbing at his temples.
I gasped and stared in shock, the sound startling Sam out of his stupor. He lifted his head and his own wide eyes met mine. "Y/N, what-"
I tore across the room and nearly tackled him. Sam rocked on the cot, struggling to hold himself upright as I wrapped my arms around his torso and shoulders and drew him into a hug. I choked out a sob and held him close to me, hands fisting into his shirt.
"Bobby said you were g-gone," I blubbered, burying my face into the side of his neck. "I was so worried, I-" I froze, my grip on him tightening. My sobs cut short as I caught a lingering scent on him. Not on his clothes. On his skin.
Sulfur.
I pulled back immediately and held him at arm's length, eyes raking over him. He had died, I'd seen it. How was he alive? Why was there sulfur on him? He mumbled something about having just woken up, not knowing what was gone but fell silent the moment my sharp nails dug into his shoulders.
I had seen him die. There was only one way he could be here now, only one way there could be traces of sulfur clinging to his skin.
My body shook with rage and my eyes swam with molten gold. My lips drew back in a snarl, tears, and relief forgotten. How could he be so stupid? My grip on Sam's shoulder tightened and he reached for my arm but stopped the moment he saw my bandages. He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off with such a harsh snarl, words dripping with malice, that he flinched.
"Where's Dean?"
End of season two. 10906 words.
FINALLY. IT'S BEEN A YEAR. I AM SO TIRED.
So what did y'all think? Do you guys prefer season one or season two? Any theories on what's going to happen in three?
An A/N had been posted just like last time going over the season timeline and some other tidbits. Thank you all so much for sticking with me throughout this story. I really appreciate you guys, especially you frequent commenters. I love hearing your thoughts :)
I hope you all enjoyed season 2 as much as I did, and I looked forward to seeing you all in season 3!
- Laurel
Edited 05/18/22.