After about a week the Winchesters had moved west. Both brothers had managed to hide the bruise on Sam's neck from their father's eyes. Dean had laughed at his brother at how he hid it, called him girly. Really, which man in their right mind would walk around with foundation in their duffelbag, let alone use it? Really. Make-up?
Once in a while the older sibling would suddenly burst into a chuckling fit by just looking at his younger brother. John would then look at the two, shaking his head. He knew it was something between the brothers and that he probably wouldn't understand it anyway.
Sam felt a little irritated every time Dean made fun of him. But as much as he didn't like it, he knew that he tried to lighten up the mood for the both of them. He could understand Dean's desire to momentarily forget about the shit that was starting up all over again.
Neither of them mentioned anything about Sam's newly awakened visions or Dean's weird slip up. To them it was the big white elephant in the room neither of them wanted to acknowledge. They kept themselves distracted with the search for a new hunt, filling their father in on what he had missed and trying to find out how John had come back from the dead. The solution to the later problems stayed beyond reach, but the first one was solved rather easily.
They'd taken a hunt. Several children and young teens had gone missing. It didn't take a genius to figure out the culprit was a rawhead. Only finding the hideout had been troubling. And as if to make things worse they discovered that their monster had stayed in the empty villa of an old lady who died a few months prior to their arrival. Searching the building had been a pain in the ass. But at least John had let the brothers stay together to search the basement.
And that's where their luck seemed to have run out. The collapse of a dilapidated wall caused parts of the ceiling to come down as well. It had forced them to separate, which with their job description could be lethal. And it had turned ugly, just not for them, but for the rawhead.
Dean currently sat at the table of yet another motel. His right index finger tapped the empty beer bottle that he refused to let go. He blankly stared at the colorful glass. The evening before, he had wanted to open a beer, it was just that instead of only the lid the whole neck of the bottle had snapped off.
Lucky for him neither Sam nor John had noticed, they'd fallen asleep as soon as they got back from the hunt. He'd cleaned the mess, grabbed another beer and walked outside. He tried opening the bottle with only his thumb. And succeeded, although part of the glass had snapped off again. Curiosity got the better of him and he had tightened his hand around the remaining glass. It had shattered, leaving not even a scratch on his palm.
Yet that wasn't what worried him. His thoughts kept going back to that shady basement where he'd killed the rawhead. To him it had felt like a normal hunt, they way he'd killed that monster didn't seem weird until after they got back and his brother didn't want to look him in the eyes anymore. Maybe he went a little overboard by electrocuting that thing with an automative battery. Stabbing it to the wall with metal pipes may have been the icing on the exaggerated cake.
The restless stirring from his brother made him stand up and go over to where Sam was shifting in his bed. It must've been his fault his little brother was having nightmares. He couldn't help but try and wake him.
Sam woke up, bathed in sweat. Images from his nightmare still flashed before his eyes, how Dean pinned the body of the rawhead to the wall and how he electrocuted it to a burned crisp. His brother stood bowed over him, a hand still lingered on his shoulder where he had shaken him awake.
"What was it this time?" Dean asked. He sounded tired, but his eyes looked clear and concerned.
"I just had a bad dream." Wariness sneaked into the youngest Winchesters words. His eyes darted around, looking everywhere but Dean. "Did I wake you up?"
Dean's lip twitched slightly, not that his brother would've seen it. "No. Couldn't sleep." He tightened his jaw, bending the paperclip he was chewing on again. It was a habit he'd picked up recently and fell back to when he was either nervous or when he needed to think.
Sam got up from his bed. "Let's get breakfast. It's almost 6am anyway."
A glance at the clock told Dean that it was 5:37am. The red numbers almost made him flinch with their burning light. "Alright."
They got dressed and left for a diner. The first few hundred meters it was all uncomfortable silence and agitated tenseness, none of them talking. Until Dean had enough. "Spit it out already! Something's eating at you and it's driving me crazy!"
Sam visibly startled at his brother's outburst. "That last hunt. I saw how you electrocuted that rawhead."
"I was lucky to find that battery. I didn't have another chance man, the stunguns missed. You know they can't be used twice." Dean shrugged it off.
"Don't you think it's weird though? You impaled it with two metal pipes you tore from the wall." Sam was beginning to form a heated argument in his head.
"Adrenaline makes people do unbelievable stuff."
"Adrenaline … I saw you Dean. I saw you beat up that monster like you weren't even human! Something's going wrong here!"
"And what's that supposed to be?" the annoyance in the elder brother's voice could be heard clearly.
"Pull over." Sam said while reaching for something in his pocket.
Dean glanced to the side. "What?"
"Pull over." Sam repeated more forcefully.
The elder Winchester pulled over and braked harshly until they stood still on the side of the empty road. "What the hell do you want?"
Sam inhaled and held his breath for a second. "You grabbed those metal pipes when electricity was running through them. I could see sparks flying when you grilled that rawhead, literally. Yet you aren't hurt at all." He had got a theory and he was willing to test it.
"What? I don't …" Dean scrunched his eyebrows. "I don't remember." he said. "That can't be."
"Dean, there's something weird going on with you." Sam insisted.
"No but. I think I might've discovered something important. Here, let me show you."
Before the older Winchester could do anything Sam had pulled out a taser and held it to his arm. Dean looked startled at first. "What's that supposed to do without any batteries?"
Sam's face drained of any color. "It's fully charged."
Dean looked at the taser, where it touched his arm. Little sparks of electricity danced around. He jerked away instinctively. "What the hell? You can't just pull a taser on me, man!"
"But you didn't feel anything, did you?" Sam put the device on the dashboard.
I didn't feel anything. Dean repeated it in his head, a puzzled look on his face.
"Listen, I don't know what's happening to you Dean, but it can't be good!" Sam was more than worried. At first he'd thought it had something to do with Dean's stay in Purgatory, but he wasn't so sure about that anymore.
Just like that Dean grabbed the taser and held it against his hand. Again, nothing happened. He felt … nothing. A sudden anger boiled up inside him and he stepped out of the car, throwing the taser to the ground so hard it shattered into little pieces. He walked in circles like a caged animal, breathing heavily.
"Dean?" Sam had stepped out of the car as well.
"Not now!" Dean barked. Thoughts were running wild in his head. He let himself lean on the Impala. "I'm turning into a monster."
"No, you're not."
"Yes, I am! How else would you explain all this?" Dean walked to the back of the Impala and opened the trunk to retrieve an empty beer bottle. He held out the empty bottle so Sam had a clear view. Glass shards flew everywhere as Dean effortlessly broke the bottle with one bare hand. "Found out I'm a little stronger than normal."
Sam flinched at the sound. He looked at Dean with an unbelieving expression. "How? When'd you find out?"
The elder sibling wiped his hands at his jeans. "I don't know how. I just know it happened."
"Since when?" Sam narrowed his eyes.
"I thought you were sleeping."
Dean scoffed. "Couldn't sleep."
"So you've got insomnia?"
"No." Dean closed the trunk and leaned against it.
"Then what? Stop tiptoeing around the subject." Sam was starting to become irritated.
Dean wiped a hand over his face. "I can't sleep at night. There's like this restless energy running through me and I feel like I could run a marathon. But when the sun rises I feel like I'm drained. I could sleep the whole day."
"So that's why you sneak in a nap whenever dad isn't around." Sam looked at their surroundings, noting the rising sun. "Are you feeling tired now?"
Dean nodded. It wouldn't be noticeable to just anyone, but his posture started to lag more the higher the sun climbed in the sky.
"Anything else I should know about?"
Dean swallowed heavily. Should he tell Sam?
"What is it?"
The older brother looked away in shame. He owed Sam an explanation, as far as he could give one. "I can see in the dark."
That caught Sam of guard. "What?"
"You heard me."
"See in the dark like nightvision see in the dark?"
"Yeah." Dean was still contemplating whether or not to spill the beans about his lens flare. Yet if he wanted to say something, Sam interrupted him before he could even open his mouth.
"Let me drive. I'll get our food and you can take a nap. We can talk about this later." It struck Sam as extremely worrying when his brother didn't even complain and just let himself fall into the passenger seat with a big sigh. "Is there anything about your order I need to know before you pass out on me?" He chuckled at the effort Dean made to keep his eyes open for a second longer.
"The usual." Dean said. "Extra meat and unions." He managed to grumble before he fell asleep.
Before they reached the motel Sam poked Dean in the side to wake him.
Dean's eyes were open and alert instantly. "What?"
"We're almost back." Sam said.
Dean grunted. He was still tired. His eyes stung when he opened them. Damn daylight!
Sam was the first to enter the motel, his bother shuffled into the room just behind him. "We got breakfast." the youngest Winchester announced.
John was sitting at the table and marking passages in the newspaper. A grunt was the only thing that indicated he'd even heard his sons.
"Here." Sam set a paper wrapped meal in front of his father and got another grunt as response.
Dean flopped down on the couch, ready to fall asleep again if it wasn't for the smell of food that made him forget his tiredness. He devoured the burger Sam gave him in record time.
"You still haven't got manners." John said, looking up from his food.
The older brother looked up. He crumpled the paper from his burger into a ball and threw it into the trash from where he sat. "I love good burgers."
"I've got a hunt." Sam interrupted and put away his phone. "Got a text. We've got a rugaru a few states over."
His leg was bouncing up and down. The tension in the bullpen was making him agitated. But that wasn't the strangest reaction to what they were watching. The voice of the news reporter seemed to melt into a monotone buzz that barely reached his ears. The pictures of the torn up bodies from the latest victims flashed before his eyes. What they actually showed on the news was censored, but he didn't need to look at the pictures to know what was displayed on them. He'd seen the actual crime scene photo's.
"Why would someone do such a horrible thing to a living creature?"
Ziva's voice focused Tony's attention back on the present.
"What do you mean with someone? They were talking about animal attacks. Or did I miss something?" Palmer looked more than confused.
"What, you believe that tale about a rabid wolf/coyote running around in DC? Autopsy gremlin, there are no wild canines in Washington." Tony scolded the younger man, the typical cocky smile missing from his features.
"I'm surprised I'll say this. But Tony's right. The most common wild animals here are squirrels, snakes, rats, pigeons and bats. There isn't enough room for bigger animals like wolves or skunks." McGee smirked when DiNozzo glared in his direction.
Jimmy nodded. "But he looks so torn up."
"Okay, imagine it was a wild animal." Tony tapped a pen on a stack of case files on his desk.
"Why would it only eat the heart?" Ziva added.
Palmer smiled sheepishly. "I don't know. But you've got a point."
"Hey, you all have lingered around here long enough. That case isn't in our jurisdiction. We just finished ours. You're all tired. Go home." Gibbs looked at his team from the position on his desk. He looked over the edge of his glasses, pen resting on the paper he had been writing on.
No one complained. Within a few minutes everyone had gathered their stuff and left. The ride down the elevator was numbing, just like the time he spent on his way back home in the bus. Tony's thoughts kept swirling around the so called 'animal attacks'. They'd caught his attention when he noticed the killings weren't only tied together by the missing hearts, but also by the lunar cycle.
He breathed in the cool air of his apartment when he entered. DiNozzo put his bag next to the door and tossed his jacket on top of it. He could clean that up later. Right then he wanted to do some more research. The door to his bedroom creaked a little, maybe he should check on that some time later. He slipped out of his blazer and laid it on his bed. His back popped when he stretched.
With a silent click he switched on his computer. The device whirred to live, purring like a satisfied cat. It was impossible that anyone knew he had a computer at home. He'd installed it himself. Hidden behind a hollowed out wall next to his closet. No one would think he'd be skilled in computer stuff. He wasn't as stupid and clueless with it as he pretended to be. He just didn't really want to work with computers at work, that was boring. They had McGee for that. And it was likely none of his teammates would believe him anyway if he said he was good with computers too.
The senior agent sat down behind his desk and started typing away on the keyboard. It was like time was flowing past him. When he was working like that, nothing could break his concentration. It took him less than an hour to get what he wanted. He worked slow on purpose, so he could be thorough enough not to leave any trace. With a simple click he sent the documents to the printer. It spit out a bundle of papers Tony gathered up and placed into folders.
He spent another hour shifting through the copied case files and double checking his suspicions. Finally he came to the conclusion that his gut feeling had been right.
Time to call Winchester and report a werewolf. Tony grabbed his phone and dialed the number of the person that had saved his life and introduced him to the horrors of the supernatural. They'd hunt down that SOB and end the killings.