Ripples in the Water (1/7)
Title: Ripples in the Water
Author: yahnknshadows
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Genre: Dean/Jared; AU
Warnings: AU, slash, mpreg (non-graphic), language, hunting, life
Disclaimer: Lies, I tell you! It's all a lie!"
World Count: This part: 4,066; Total: 24,561
Summary: Jared keeps waking up in the wrong place, with people he doesn't know, in a world he doesn't understand, and he falls in love with it.
Beta: Let's all give a rousing round of applause to Sarah <3 <3 <3 <3! Thanks so much for your help, honey!
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Epilogue
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Part I
When it happened, there wasn’t really any warning or sign that it was happening. Between one blink and the next; one moment he’d been talking with a teacher about an assignment, and the next he was sitting in the back of a car with books open on his lap, Ring of Fire on the radio, and two strange men sitting in the front seat. Freaked out hadn’t fully covered it.
A short, sharp gasp left his lips and his hands clenched on the pencil he was gripping, thighs tensing and books tumbling onto the floorboard. The older man in the driver’s seat-dark hair, dark eyes, closed expression, an air of depression hanging heavily around him-flicked a glance at him in the rearview. “You doin’ okay back there, Sammy?”
Sammy? Wary, Jared nodded. “Yes, sir. Uh, started to doze off and I jerked awake.” The older man had nodded and his eyes went back to the road.
Jared tried to casually get an idea of where he was and who he was with; the younger guy had short, blonde hair, and a leather jacket shrouding his shoulders, despite the warmth of the weather. The car was rather roomy, black leather interior, and obviously an older model. There were duffel bags in the seat beside him, a broken shotgun on the opposite floorboard, and a large sack of salt. Jared stared at the salt and shotgun, brow furrowed with confusion.
“Where are we going?” Jared asked, surreptitiously watching the man behind the wheel.
The guy in the front passenger’s seat turned around and looked at him confused. "Sammy, you've been bitching about it since we left Bobby's; are you shitting me?" he asked and then turned back. The tape cassette in the deck turned itself off and he flipped AC/DC’s Back in Black in and threw the other tape in the small box at his feet.
When he looked back a second time, he seemed to realize that ‘Sam’ looked more confused than pissy. "Granville-you know, where the werewolf with the fur and the claws and the fangs is supposed to be?"
Jared’s eyes went wide, surprise evident on his face. “Werewolf?” He frowned and bit his lower lip, brows drawn into a deep furrow. When he looked up again, Jared found himself sitting under a wide oak tree on the school lawn.
With a shake of his head, Jared got to his feet and relegated the entire experience to daydreams and headed home. However, when he sat down to do his homework, he found a note tucked into his science book.
Dear Jared,
I don’t know what’s happening or where I am, but it was nice to spend a little while without hunting. I’m Sam, and I guess you’re Jared, or, I am for the moment. I’m not really sure how this works. Did you do some kind of magic to make us swap like that? Is this even the same world?
We look alike, but you wear far too much pink.
Sam
“God, it really happened.” Jared just stared at the looping script for a long moment and then tucked it into his notebook and pulled out a clean sheet. He wrote a short note, listing his name, his parents, his siblings, his best friend, and left it folded in the front of the science book. Just in case.
~*~
Dean slammed the motel room door hard and shot his brother a look of near hate. "Why the fuck can't you ever just do what you're told?" he snapped. "He's bitching at me because you can't be trusted to stay in one place for more than five seconds. Now we're going to be stuck with Jim or Bobby again, like we're eight. I can't even go out when they're on my ass." His voice was annoyed and bitter. He rolled his eyes and dumped himself on his bed.
The cheap motel room was filled with the smell of smoke and sex and even Dean made a disgusted face at it before rolling over on his back and dropping his arm over his eyes.
Jared swallowed and folded his arms over his chest. “I wasn’t doing anything dangerous. Just didn’t want to sit around,” he said. He adopted a pissy look and got up from the bed he’d found himself sitting on instead of the dinner table he’d been sitting at a moment before, grabbed Sam’s backpack from the floor and started pawing through it.
"Sam, it isn't fucking rocket science, just do what the hell dad tells you to do," Dean shot back. "You don't want to sit around, you don't want to hunt-I swear to God you’re just trying to be difficult."
Jared ignored him when he found the notebook and eagerly peeled it open. The note inside gave a name for the guy growling at him from the other bed: Dean; big brother, pain in the ass, fast with the ladies, cocky as hell. Jared snorted and shook his head. I just want to be normal, like you are, Jared was written in small print at the bottom of the note and Jared sighed. “Sorry, Dean. I just… I’m fifteen and freaking-hormones, or something keeps messing with my head. I’ll, uh, try harder.”
"Shut up, Sam," Dean snapped as he turned on his side and moved up to lay his head on one of the pillows. He sighed and turned again onto his stomach. "We’re going to be driving all fucking night now. Go to sleep and try to keep your mouth shut, would you?"
A heavy sigh answered Dean’s question and Jared curled up on the floor with the backpack, notebook open in his lap as he read further entries that Sam had made. Apparently, Sam had started documenting his life for Jared to read. He flipped to the last entry and folded it over, quickly jotting down what had happened since he’d shown up in the wrong place. When he finished, he tucked it back into the backpack and got up.
Only, when he got to his feet, he was once again back in his own home. Jared found his bedroom just as he’d left it before dinner, except for the notebook sitting on his desk. He sat down and read up on Megan’s whining at dinner, Jeff’s posturing about college, and his mom’s awesome vegetarian lasagna.
Following Sam’s lead, Jared started filling the notebook with tidbits of information, classes, exams, school social environment, and his home life.
~*~
"Come on, Sammy, rise and shine. We have to be packed and ready to go in ten minutes," Dean yelled up the steps. They had been at Bobby's for about three days and dad had just called in, ready to pick them up and hit the road.
When he didn't hear his brother moaning or bitching he rolled his eyes and headed up the stairs. There was no reason to knock so he shoved the door open. "Yo, Sammy, I mean it; pack your shit fast. We need to be ready as soon as dad gets here."
“It’s five in the goddamn morning,” Jared grumbled, still mostly asleep, and glaring at the alarm clock as though it were the cause of all of his troubles. He dropped his face back into the pillow and tugged the blanket up and over his head. “Fuck off.”
Dean came up behind his brother and pulled the blankets off, slapping Sam on the back of the head. "I'm not in the mood, Sam; get the fuck up, now!" he growled as he moved to the side and grabbed a bag, throwing it onto the bed. "We're out of here in ten minutes, with or without your crap. I don't care which."
“Goddamn it, Jeff, I just got in bed two hours ago!” Jared snarled, shoving himself up into a sitting position. He glared in Dean’s general direction for a moment and then bolted out of bed, eyes wide and more awake than he absolutely wanted to be. “Dean? What the-mother fucking fuck!” he growled and scrambled for something to put on.
"Jeff?" Dean asked, looking at him as though Jared had grown a second head. "Man, keep your jerk-off twinks to yourself." He shook his head and turned away from Sam. He was, apparently, already packed and had let Jared sleep until the last minute.
“Dude, you’re disgusting. He’s my-” Jared shut his mouth and yanked the jeans he’d found on the floor up his legs, head tipped down so that he wouldn’t have to look at Dean. “Never mind.” He snagged a shirt from the floor and pulled it on. He took a minute to poke around in the dresser drawers and peek into the closet before finally giving up. “Where’s my stuff? I can’t remember right now. I’m still asleep, dude.”
"Dude, how the hell would I know?" Dean asked, looking over his shoulder at Sam. "You’re so damn anal about everything I won't be surprised if you locked it in a safe." He shook his head. "I would assume it's somewhere in this room." He moved past Sam and out into the hallway. "Just hurry up."
Jared flipped Dean off and then stumbled over to the bedside lamp, flicking it on and gazing around the room for a minute, finally spotting the small pile of stuff peeking out from beneath the bed. He crouched down, dragged the stuff out, and shoved it into the duffel bag Dean had set down on the bed for him. The journal he and Sam used to send notes to each other was sitting in the bottom of the bag, so Jared pulled it out and tucked it under his arm, tossing the duffel strap over his shoulder as he stepped into his shoes.
By the time Jared made his way down the steps, he was more awake. He found John, Dean, and another older man he’d never seen before sitting at the table, shoveling food into their mouths. “Morning, everyone,” he grumbled, rubbing his eye with a knuckle.
Dean stretched a little and looked over at sleeping beauty making his way into the kitchen. He didn't say anything, too busy with the food on his plate and making sure it made its way to his mouth.
"Morning, Sam, you want food?" The older man asked as he leaned against the counter coffee cup in hand. "I think there might be something left if you don't mind risking a finger to get to it." He eyed the two at the table.
“Yes, please,” Jared murmured, dropping his bag onto the floor and taking up the seat beside John, across from Dean. “I feel like I haven’t slept at all. Where are we going this time?” he asked, pulling the notebook up and setting it on the table, paging through entries he’d already read.
“There’s a pack of skinwalkers in Wisconsin,” John grunted around a big bite of hashbrowns and eggs, sausage, gravy dripping down his chin before being swiped away with a napkin. “Surprised you haven’t started bitching yet. Must be too tired to whine.”
The older man-damn, Jared could really do with a name-grabbed a plate and filled it with food, and gave it to Jared. Dean was still busy putting food into his mouth and didn't bother to look up, taking a large mouthful to finish up his coffee. He looked over at John a second but didn't say anything.
“Yeah, something like that,” Jared chuckled, shaking his head. He jotted a note into the notebook once he found a blank page. You seriously whine and bitch about hunting? Dude, this seems like an awesome life. I’d trade you college and boring Sunday dinners to do this year round. Jared closed it and tucked it under his leg when he noticed John trying to get a look at what he was writing.
“What do we know about skinwalkers?” Jared asked, turning the conversation over to hunting.
“It’s a person who’s able to transform themselves into an animal.” John frowned at Sam, looking perplexed. “We took one out about three years ago. Don’t you remember all the research you bitched about doing?”
"Yeah, but that was only one, this time you’re taking on a whole pack of them," Older Guy commented, refilling his coffee before sitting down alongside Dean. "Might want to have the boys do a little more on your way there, those things are bad enough when they are hunting solo."
Dean made a face as though he smelled something awful. Jared did a quick sniff test to make sure it wasn’t him. "We can take them all down the same way, use Sam as bait and draw them off on their own."
“I can use a gun, you know. I’ve been practicing. Why do I have to be the bait?” Jared frowned at Dean, wariness and distrust darkening his eyes.
“It’s easier if you’re the bait because you’re younger and skinwalkers like to turn people younger, something about it being an easier transition than if you were an adult.” John looked back and forth between his boys, confused by the sudden tension rolling off of Sam.
Dean looked up at Sam, surprised too. And then he pressed his lips together and glared right back when Bobby jumped in. "I've got a few notes about them, actually. I'll send them along with you all so you can get in and out."
“Thanks, Bobby,” John murmured and swallowed the last of his coffee. “It’ll give Sam something to do while we’re driving. Maybe it’ll keep all of us from sniping at each other while we’re trapped in the car.”
Jared noted Bobby’s name (finally), matched it to the guy’s face, and filed it away for future reference should he need it. He gulped down some coffee, shoveled in as much eggs and toast as he could while John followed Bobby out of the room to get the notes he’d mentioned.
Dean finished up what was left of his food and took his cup and plate to the sink and washed them, grabbing John's along the way to the door.
When Sam and John joined Dean outside, Sam had a stack of notes clutched in his hand, duffel over his shoulder, and notebook tucked under his arm. He ignored Dean when he crawled into the backseat of the Impala, duffel falling to the floorboard between his feet.
John sighed and shook his head, shooting Dean a tired look. “If he’s decided to hate you instead of me now, I seriously pity you,” he said over the top of the car before sliding into his seat behind the wheel.
"Yeah, well, he can eat my ass with a spoon for all I care." Dean closed the trunk and moved to the front passenger side.
“D’you people always talk about him as if he’s not right here?” Jared muttered to himself, shuffling through the notes for a minute before giving up and going back to Sam’s notebook, thumbing through the pages and skimming the information to update himself on what was going on.
Luckily, John had the car running and had music playing, otherwise Jared’s comment would’ve drawn some pointed questions. The car bounced along the dirt road leading away from Bobby’s place, AC/DC playing just loud enough to discourage conversation.
~~
Another young woman and her boyfriend had been taken just as the Winchesters had entered the area. These things were getting nastier by the day and Dean said he was fairly sure that they weren't going to find anyone alive.
It had rained recently; the smell of wet dirt was everywhere and it didn’t help with their tracking due to many other animals using the same paths.
Wandering back and forth along a specific stretch of walking path wasn’t exactly exciting and Jared meandered sullenly, hands in his pockets and exuding an air of impatient irritation and hurt feelings. That he hated playing bait was obvious in his jerky gait and the muttered curses he spat out from time to time.
It was chilly and wet and his shoes squished unpleasantly, the ragged cuffs of his jeans were muddy and soaked, and the tip of Jared’s nose was red with the cold. Absently, he sort of wished he hadn’t snubbed Dean’s offer of a heavier jacket.
Suddenly a howl rent the air and a large wolf-like shape charged toward Jared. The wolf’s claws dug into the wet ground under him as his mate darted forward as well.
Jared froze and turned towards where he thought the howl had come from. The gun Dean had shoved at him lay heavily in his pocket, but shock and growing fear made him clumsy. Jared fumbled for the gun, backing up quickly once his eyes landed on the massive wolf bearing down on him.
A shot rang out and Jared yelped, slipping on the wet ground, and falling with a groan, the gun flying out of his hand to land several feet away. John’s low bark of “Dean!” caught Jared’s attention long enough for him to scramble towards his own gun, startled into action. He scrambled to his feet and took off towards Dean, terrified out of his mind.
"Fuck, Sam!" Dean yelled as he made his way past the trees and towards his brother. The wolf's eyes glinted brightly over Sam's right shoulder and it was gaining fast.
She leaped, jaws snapping just as Dean and Sam met in the middle. Grabbing Sam, Dean shoved him behind him, putting himself between the skinwalker and his brother. The gun was ready but the shot released half a second too late as claws raked through his shirt leaving a blood trail.
Jared shouted in horror and swung the gun around, trying to aim at the wolf and not Dean, but they were moving too quickly to get a good bead on it. He panicked and fired, grazing the wolf’s side. He fell to his knees and fired again and again.
Dean's blood poured from the wounds in his shoulder and chest. The wolf bit down just as silver bullets grazed her side, causing her to jerk up, growling again. Her fangs dripped with blood as her gold eyes fell on the young boy and as she tried to move forward again, it hit her in face, she fell backwards as bullets kept coming.
John managed to make it over to them as the skinwalker fell back. He plugged a bullet in the bitch’s head and knelt beside Dean, looking over the wounds with a worried eye while Sam sobbed and continued pulling the trigger despite the fact that the gun was empty. “Dean, how you doin’, boy?” John asked, reaching back to grip Sam’s shoulder.
Dean tried to push himself up but fell back again, dizzy. He winced and looked at his father. He swallowed and nodded his head. "I'm fine. Sam okay?" he asked.
“He’s fine. You stay down for a minute and let me make sure that you’re not bleeding to death, and then we’ll head out.” John pressed a hand to Dean’s uninjured shoulder and tugged at Sam, pulling him over.
“Please be okay, Dean. God, please be okay,” Jared sobbed, hands reaching out to touch only to stop and move away before they ever landed anywhere on Dean, afraid of causing more injury.
Dean looked up at Jared, surprised. "Sammy, I'm okay," he said as he laid his head back, looking back at his father. "Aw, come on, dad, it takes more than a skinwalker to take me down," he tried to joke as he clenched his jaw tightly against the pain.
“Shut up!” Jared barked and scooted forward on his knees, bending down to get right in Dean’s face. “You’re not immortal, you giant jackass! You could’ve died! How fucking dare you!”
“Easy, Sam, he was just taking care of you. Calm down before you pass out and I have to carry both of your heavy asses out of here.” John shook Sam’s shoulder, pulling him back from Dean. “Help me get him up and out to the car. You can bitch at him to your heart’s content when we’ve got him patched up.”
Dean gazed at Jared. He blinked and moved to stand with the help of his father on one side and Jared on the other. "Ow, shit," he groaned as he found his feet but ended up leaning against someone more than he wanted to. He gripped his injured arm carefully, trying to keep it up and stop the blood loss if he could.
~~
Jared stepped into their rather sleazy motel room. He had a duffel bag over one shoulder and Dean on the other, John bringing up the rear.
Panic shivered down Jared’s spine. “How you doing, Dean? You still with me?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm and even.
Dean had a deep gash from his right shoulder and down onto his upper chest, blood leaked over his stomach but he just laughed. His voice was tired though; he'd lost blood, John had tied his arm up in a sling to try and help but it wasn't doing much. "Come on, Sammy, don't be a girl. It's barely a scratch." He tried to pull his weight off Jared as he sat himself in the closest chair once in the room.
“Shut up, you jerk,” Jared grumbled, stepping aside as John shouldered him out of the way, kneeling at Dean’s feet with a large tackle box which, when opened, turned out to be a scarily well stocked first aid kit.
“Both of you zip your lips. Sammy, go get me the bottle of Jack from the trunk.” John tossed the keys, barely turned his head, but Jared caught them and hurried out of the room to the car. He popped the trunk and found just duffel bags, but something peeked out of the corner of the tire flap and he pulled it up to find an array of weapons that almost made him pass out.
Shotguns, hand guns, knives, bags of salt, oil, canisters of gasoline, kerosene, small sachets that stunk to high heaven, and all kinds of different charms and colors of chalks. The Jack Daniels was tucked into the far corner and Jared snatched it out and hurried back, more than a little spooked by the weaponry. Jared handed over the bottle of alcohol and settled on the floor beside Dean’s chair, gripping his free hand worriedly.
"Give me that." Dean mumbled when Sam came back with the bottle. His dad had it, though, and Dean just made a face and relaxed into the back of the chair. He moved his arm a little and looked down when he realized Sam was holding his hand. "Sam, I'm fine, seriously; go do your homework or something."
“You can eat my ass with a spoon, cock-knocker,” Jared spat, gripping Dean’s hand tighter. “You’re bleeding all over the place; I’ve got a right to fucking worry about you.”
"Bitch, I will take you apart with one arm missing; bleeding ain't shit." Dean tried to pull his hand away.
“Both of you just shut up. I can’t concentrate with you two pissing and moaning at each other like a pair of fucking girls.” John tore Dean’s shirt open and dumped a liberal dose of whiskey into the long cut.
Dean hissed at the burn but covered it up with: "That was my favorite shirt." but stopped when he saw his father's face. "Sorry."
John started stitching up the gash and Jared went pale to the lips, eyes wide and gripped Dean’s hand as though afraid he’d vanish if he let go. By the time John was halfway through stitching Dean up, Jared was turning green. He bolted to his feet and ran for the bathroom, dropping to his knees in front of the toilet.
He heaved and heaved, even when his stomach had nothing left to give up. When he was done, he flushed and got up, only just realizing that he was in his own bathroom. Jared made his way down stairs to the kitchen and hugged his mom tight from behind where she stood at the stove. “Hey, mom? Is there still an opening at the Red Cross for First Aid training?”
Part II
Author: yahnknshadows
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Genre: Dean/Jared; AU
Warnings: AU, slash, mpreg (non-graphic), language, hunting, life
Disclaimer: Lies, I tell you! It's all a lie!"
World Count: This part: 4,066; Total: 24,561
Summary: Jared keeps waking up in the wrong place, with people he doesn't know, in a world he doesn't understand, and he falls in love with it.
Beta: Let's all give a rousing round of applause to Sarah <3 <3 <3 <3! Thanks so much for your help, honey!
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Epilogue
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Part I
When it happened, there wasn’t really any warning or sign that it was happening. Between one blink and the next; one moment he’d been talking with a teacher about an assignment, and the next he was sitting in the back of a car with books open on his lap, Ring of Fire on the radio, and two strange men sitting in the front seat. Freaked out hadn’t fully covered it.
A short, sharp gasp left his lips and his hands clenched on the pencil he was gripping, thighs tensing and books tumbling onto the floorboard. The older man in the driver’s seat-dark hair, dark eyes, closed expression, an air of depression hanging heavily around him-flicked a glance at him in the rearview. “You doin’ okay back there, Sammy?”
Sammy? Wary, Jared nodded. “Yes, sir. Uh, started to doze off and I jerked awake.” The older man had nodded and his eyes went back to the road.
Jared tried to casually get an idea of where he was and who he was with; the younger guy had short, blonde hair, and a leather jacket shrouding his shoulders, despite the warmth of the weather. The car was rather roomy, black leather interior, and obviously an older model. There were duffel bags in the seat beside him, a broken shotgun on the opposite floorboard, and a large sack of salt. Jared stared at the salt and shotgun, brow furrowed with confusion.
“Where are we going?” Jared asked, surreptitiously watching the man behind the wheel.
The guy in the front passenger’s seat turned around and looked at him confused. "Sammy, you've been bitching about it since we left Bobby's; are you shitting me?" he asked and then turned back. The tape cassette in the deck turned itself off and he flipped AC/DC’s Back in Black in and threw the other tape in the small box at his feet.
When he looked back a second time, he seemed to realize that ‘Sam’ looked more confused than pissy. "Granville-you know, where the werewolf with the fur and the claws and the fangs is supposed to be?"
Jared’s eyes went wide, surprise evident on his face. “Werewolf?” He frowned and bit his lower lip, brows drawn into a deep furrow. When he looked up again, Jared found himself sitting under a wide oak tree on the school lawn.
With a shake of his head, Jared got to his feet and relegated the entire experience to daydreams and headed home. However, when he sat down to do his homework, he found a note tucked into his science book.
Dear Jared,
I don’t know what’s happening or where I am, but it was nice to spend a little while without hunting. I’m Sam, and I guess you’re Jared, or, I am for the moment. I’m not really sure how this works. Did you do some kind of magic to make us swap like that? Is this even the same world?
We look alike, but you wear far too much pink.
Sam
“God, it really happened.” Jared just stared at the looping script for a long moment and then tucked it into his notebook and pulled out a clean sheet. He wrote a short note, listing his name, his parents, his siblings, his best friend, and left it folded in the front of the science book. Just in case.
~*~
Dean slammed the motel room door hard and shot his brother a look of near hate. "Why the fuck can't you ever just do what you're told?" he snapped. "He's bitching at me because you can't be trusted to stay in one place for more than five seconds. Now we're going to be stuck with Jim or Bobby again, like we're eight. I can't even go out when they're on my ass." His voice was annoyed and bitter. He rolled his eyes and dumped himself on his bed.
The cheap motel room was filled with the smell of smoke and sex and even Dean made a disgusted face at it before rolling over on his back and dropping his arm over his eyes.
Jared swallowed and folded his arms over his chest. “I wasn’t doing anything dangerous. Just didn’t want to sit around,” he said. He adopted a pissy look and got up from the bed he’d found himself sitting on instead of the dinner table he’d been sitting at a moment before, grabbed Sam’s backpack from the floor and started pawing through it.
"Sam, it isn't fucking rocket science, just do what the hell dad tells you to do," Dean shot back. "You don't want to sit around, you don't want to hunt-I swear to God you’re just trying to be difficult."
Jared ignored him when he found the notebook and eagerly peeled it open. The note inside gave a name for the guy growling at him from the other bed: Dean; big brother, pain in the ass, fast with the ladies, cocky as hell. Jared snorted and shook his head. I just want to be normal, like you are, Jared was written in small print at the bottom of the note and Jared sighed. “Sorry, Dean. I just… I’m fifteen and freaking-hormones, or something keeps messing with my head. I’ll, uh, try harder.”
"Shut up, Sam," Dean snapped as he turned on his side and moved up to lay his head on one of the pillows. He sighed and turned again onto his stomach. "We’re going to be driving all fucking night now. Go to sleep and try to keep your mouth shut, would you?"
A heavy sigh answered Dean’s question and Jared curled up on the floor with the backpack, notebook open in his lap as he read further entries that Sam had made. Apparently, Sam had started documenting his life for Jared to read. He flipped to the last entry and folded it over, quickly jotting down what had happened since he’d shown up in the wrong place. When he finished, he tucked it back into the backpack and got up.
Only, when he got to his feet, he was once again back in his own home. Jared found his bedroom just as he’d left it before dinner, except for the notebook sitting on his desk. He sat down and read up on Megan’s whining at dinner, Jeff’s posturing about college, and his mom’s awesome vegetarian lasagna.
Following Sam’s lead, Jared started filling the notebook with tidbits of information, classes, exams, school social environment, and his home life.
~*~
"Come on, Sammy, rise and shine. We have to be packed and ready to go in ten minutes," Dean yelled up the steps. They had been at Bobby's for about three days and dad had just called in, ready to pick them up and hit the road.
When he didn't hear his brother moaning or bitching he rolled his eyes and headed up the stairs. There was no reason to knock so he shoved the door open. "Yo, Sammy, I mean it; pack your shit fast. We need to be ready as soon as dad gets here."
“It’s five in the goddamn morning,” Jared grumbled, still mostly asleep, and glaring at the alarm clock as though it were the cause of all of his troubles. He dropped his face back into the pillow and tugged the blanket up and over his head. “Fuck off.”
Dean came up behind his brother and pulled the blankets off, slapping Sam on the back of the head. "I'm not in the mood, Sam; get the fuck up, now!" he growled as he moved to the side and grabbed a bag, throwing it onto the bed. "We're out of here in ten minutes, with or without your crap. I don't care which."
“Goddamn it, Jeff, I just got in bed two hours ago!” Jared snarled, shoving himself up into a sitting position. He glared in Dean’s general direction for a moment and then bolted out of bed, eyes wide and more awake than he absolutely wanted to be. “Dean? What the-mother fucking fuck!” he growled and scrambled for something to put on.
"Jeff?" Dean asked, looking at him as though Jared had grown a second head. "Man, keep your jerk-off twinks to yourself." He shook his head and turned away from Sam. He was, apparently, already packed and had let Jared sleep until the last minute.
“Dude, you’re disgusting. He’s my-” Jared shut his mouth and yanked the jeans he’d found on the floor up his legs, head tipped down so that he wouldn’t have to look at Dean. “Never mind.” He snagged a shirt from the floor and pulled it on. He took a minute to poke around in the dresser drawers and peek into the closet before finally giving up. “Where’s my stuff? I can’t remember right now. I’m still asleep, dude.”
"Dude, how the hell would I know?" Dean asked, looking over his shoulder at Sam. "You’re so damn anal about everything I won't be surprised if you locked it in a safe." He shook his head. "I would assume it's somewhere in this room." He moved past Sam and out into the hallway. "Just hurry up."
Jared flipped Dean off and then stumbled over to the bedside lamp, flicking it on and gazing around the room for a minute, finally spotting the small pile of stuff peeking out from beneath the bed. He crouched down, dragged the stuff out, and shoved it into the duffel bag Dean had set down on the bed for him. The journal he and Sam used to send notes to each other was sitting in the bottom of the bag, so Jared pulled it out and tucked it under his arm, tossing the duffel strap over his shoulder as he stepped into his shoes.
By the time Jared made his way down the steps, he was more awake. He found John, Dean, and another older man he’d never seen before sitting at the table, shoveling food into their mouths. “Morning, everyone,” he grumbled, rubbing his eye with a knuckle.
Dean stretched a little and looked over at sleeping beauty making his way into the kitchen. He didn't say anything, too busy with the food on his plate and making sure it made its way to his mouth.
"Morning, Sam, you want food?" The older man asked as he leaned against the counter coffee cup in hand. "I think there might be something left if you don't mind risking a finger to get to it." He eyed the two at the table.
“Yes, please,” Jared murmured, dropping his bag onto the floor and taking up the seat beside John, across from Dean. “I feel like I haven’t slept at all. Where are we going this time?” he asked, pulling the notebook up and setting it on the table, paging through entries he’d already read.
“There’s a pack of skinwalkers in Wisconsin,” John grunted around a big bite of hashbrowns and eggs, sausage, gravy dripping down his chin before being swiped away with a napkin. “Surprised you haven’t started bitching yet. Must be too tired to whine.”
The older man-damn, Jared could really do with a name-grabbed a plate and filled it with food, and gave it to Jared. Dean was still busy putting food into his mouth and didn't bother to look up, taking a large mouthful to finish up his coffee. He looked over at John a second but didn't say anything.
“Yeah, something like that,” Jared chuckled, shaking his head. He jotted a note into the notebook once he found a blank page. You seriously whine and bitch about hunting? Dude, this seems like an awesome life. I’d trade you college and boring Sunday dinners to do this year round. Jared closed it and tucked it under his leg when he noticed John trying to get a look at what he was writing.
“What do we know about skinwalkers?” Jared asked, turning the conversation over to hunting.
“It’s a person who’s able to transform themselves into an animal.” John frowned at Sam, looking perplexed. “We took one out about three years ago. Don’t you remember all the research you bitched about doing?”
"Yeah, but that was only one, this time you’re taking on a whole pack of them," Older Guy commented, refilling his coffee before sitting down alongside Dean. "Might want to have the boys do a little more on your way there, those things are bad enough when they are hunting solo."
Dean made a face as though he smelled something awful. Jared did a quick sniff test to make sure it wasn’t him. "We can take them all down the same way, use Sam as bait and draw them off on their own."
“I can use a gun, you know. I’ve been practicing. Why do I have to be the bait?” Jared frowned at Dean, wariness and distrust darkening his eyes.
“It’s easier if you’re the bait because you’re younger and skinwalkers like to turn people younger, something about it being an easier transition than if you were an adult.” John looked back and forth between his boys, confused by the sudden tension rolling off of Sam.
Dean looked up at Sam, surprised too. And then he pressed his lips together and glared right back when Bobby jumped in. "I've got a few notes about them, actually. I'll send them along with you all so you can get in and out."
“Thanks, Bobby,” John murmured and swallowed the last of his coffee. “It’ll give Sam something to do while we’re driving. Maybe it’ll keep all of us from sniping at each other while we’re trapped in the car.”
Jared noted Bobby’s name (finally), matched it to the guy’s face, and filed it away for future reference should he need it. He gulped down some coffee, shoveled in as much eggs and toast as he could while John followed Bobby out of the room to get the notes he’d mentioned.
Dean finished up what was left of his food and took his cup and plate to the sink and washed them, grabbing John's along the way to the door.
When Sam and John joined Dean outside, Sam had a stack of notes clutched in his hand, duffel over his shoulder, and notebook tucked under his arm. He ignored Dean when he crawled into the backseat of the Impala, duffel falling to the floorboard between his feet.
John sighed and shook his head, shooting Dean a tired look. “If he’s decided to hate you instead of me now, I seriously pity you,” he said over the top of the car before sliding into his seat behind the wheel.
"Yeah, well, he can eat my ass with a spoon for all I care." Dean closed the trunk and moved to the front passenger side.
“D’you people always talk about him as if he’s not right here?” Jared muttered to himself, shuffling through the notes for a minute before giving up and going back to Sam’s notebook, thumbing through the pages and skimming the information to update himself on what was going on.
Luckily, John had the car running and had music playing, otherwise Jared’s comment would’ve drawn some pointed questions. The car bounced along the dirt road leading away from Bobby’s place, AC/DC playing just loud enough to discourage conversation.
~~
Another young woman and her boyfriend had been taken just as the Winchesters had entered the area. These things were getting nastier by the day and Dean said he was fairly sure that they weren't going to find anyone alive.
It had rained recently; the smell of wet dirt was everywhere and it didn’t help with their tracking due to many other animals using the same paths.
Wandering back and forth along a specific stretch of walking path wasn’t exactly exciting and Jared meandered sullenly, hands in his pockets and exuding an air of impatient irritation and hurt feelings. That he hated playing bait was obvious in his jerky gait and the muttered curses he spat out from time to time.
It was chilly and wet and his shoes squished unpleasantly, the ragged cuffs of his jeans were muddy and soaked, and the tip of Jared’s nose was red with the cold. Absently, he sort of wished he hadn’t snubbed Dean’s offer of a heavier jacket.
Suddenly a howl rent the air and a large wolf-like shape charged toward Jared. The wolf’s claws dug into the wet ground under him as his mate darted forward as well.
Jared froze and turned towards where he thought the howl had come from. The gun Dean had shoved at him lay heavily in his pocket, but shock and growing fear made him clumsy. Jared fumbled for the gun, backing up quickly once his eyes landed on the massive wolf bearing down on him.
A shot rang out and Jared yelped, slipping on the wet ground, and falling with a groan, the gun flying out of his hand to land several feet away. John’s low bark of “Dean!” caught Jared’s attention long enough for him to scramble towards his own gun, startled into action. He scrambled to his feet and took off towards Dean, terrified out of his mind.
"Fuck, Sam!" Dean yelled as he made his way past the trees and towards his brother. The wolf's eyes glinted brightly over Sam's right shoulder and it was gaining fast.
She leaped, jaws snapping just as Dean and Sam met in the middle. Grabbing Sam, Dean shoved him behind him, putting himself between the skinwalker and his brother. The gun was ready but the shot released half a second too late as claws raked through his shirt leaving a blood trail.
Jared shouted in horror and swung the gun around, trying to aim at the wolf and not Dean, but they were moving too quickly to get a good bead on it. He panicked and fired, grazing the wolf’s side. He fell to his knees and fired again and again.
Dean's blood poured from the wounds in his shoulder and chest. The wolf bit down just as silver bullets grazed her side, causing her to jerk up, growling again. Her fangs dripped with blood as her gold eyes fell on the young boy and as she tried to move forward again, it hit her in face, she fell backwards as bullets kept coming.
John managed to make it over to them as the skinwalker fell back. He plugged a bullet in the bitch’s head and knelt beside Dean, looking over the wounds with a worried eye while Sam sobbed and continued pulling the trigger despite the fact that the gun was empty. “Dean, how you doin’, boy?” John asked, reaching back to grip Sam’s shoulder.
Dean tried to push himself up but fell back again, dizzy. He winced and looked at his father. He swallowed and nodded his head. "I'm fine. Sam okay?" he asked.
“He’s fine. You stay down for a minute and let me make sure that you’re not bleeding to death, and then we’ll head out.” John pressed a hand to Dean’s uninjured shoulder and tugged at Sam, pulling him over.
“Please be okay, Dean. God, please be okay,” Jared sobbed, hands reaching out to touch only to stop and move away before they ever landed anywhere on Dean, afraid of causing more injury.
Dean looked up at Jared, surprised. "Sammy, I'm okay," he said as he laid his head back, looking back at his father. "Aw, come on, dad, it takes more than a skinwalker to take me down," he tried to joke as he clenched his jaw tightly against the pain.
“Shut up!” Jared barked and scooted forward on his knees, bending down to get right in Dean’s face. “You’re not immortal, you giant jackass! You could’ve died! How fucking dare you!”
“Easy, Sam, he was just taking care of you. Calm down before you pass out and I have to carry both of your heavy asses out of here.” John shook Sam’s shoulder, pulling him back from Dean. “Help me get him up and out to the car. You can bitch at him to your heart’s content when we’ve got him patched up.”
Dean gazed at Jared. He blinked and moved to stand with the help of his father on one side and Jared on the other. "Ow, shit," he groaned as he found his feet but ended up leaning against someone more than he wanted to. He gripped his injured arm carefully, trying to keep it up and stop the blood loss if he could.
~~
Jared stepped into their rather sleazy motel room. He had a duffel bag over one shoulder and Dean on the other, John bringing up the rear.
Panic shivered down Jared’s spine. “How you doing, Dean? You still with me?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm and even.
Dean had a deep gash from his right shoulder and down onto his upper chest, blood leaked over his stomach but he just laughed. His voice was tired though; he'd lost blood, John had tied his arm up in a sling to try and help but it wasn't doing much. "Come on, Sammy, don't be a girl. It's barely a scratch." He tried to pull his weight off Jared as he sat himself in the closest chair once in the room.
“Shut up, you jerk,” Jared grumbled, stepping aside as John shouldered him out of the way, kneeling at Dean’s feet with a large tackle box which, when opened, turned out to be a scarily well stocked first aid kit.
“Both of you zip your lips. Sammy, go get me the bottle of Jack from the trunk.” John tossed the keys, barely turned his head, but Jared caught them and hurried out of the room to the car. He popped the trunk and found just duffel bags, but something peeked out of the corner of the tire flap and he pulled it up to find an array of weapons that almost made him pass out.
Shotguns, hand guns, knives, bags of salt, oil, canisters of gasoline, kerosene, small sachets that stunk to high heaven, and all kinds of different charms and colors of chalks. The Jack Daniels was tucked into the far corner and Jared snatched it out and hurried back, more than a little spooked by the weaponry. Jared handed over the bottle of alcohol and settled on the floor beside Dean’s chair, gripping his free hand worriedly.
"Give me that." Dean mumbled when Sam came back with the bottle. His dad had it, though, and Dean just made a face and relaxed into the back of the chair. He moved his arm a little and looked down when he realized Sam was holding his hand. "Sam, I'm fine, seriously; go do your homework or something."
“You can eat my ass with a spoon, cock-knocker,” Jared spat, gripping Dean’s hand tighter. “You’re bleeding all over the place; I’ve got a right to fucking worry about you.”
"Bitch, I will take you apart with one arm missing; bleeding ain't shit." Dean tried to pull his hand away.
“Both of you just shut up. I can’t concentrate with you two pissing and moaning at each other like a pair of fucking girls.” John tore Dean’s shirt open and dumped a liberal dose of whiskey into the long cut.
Dean hissed at the burn but covered it up with: "That was my favorite shirt." but stopped when he saw his father's face. "Sorry."
John started stitching up the gash and Jared went pale to the lips, eyes wide and gripped Dean’s hand as though afraid he’d vanish if he let go. By the time John was halfway through stitching Dean up, Jared was turning green. He bolted to his feet and ran for the bathroom, dropping to his knees in front of the toilet.
He heaved and heaved, even when his stomach had nothing left to give up. When he was done, he flushed and got up, only just realizing that he was in his own bathroom. Jared made his way down stairs to the kitchen and hugged his mom tight from behind where she stood at the stove. “Hey, mom? Is there still an opening at the Red Cross for First Aid training?”
Part II