Chapter 2:

When the sun rose, it was the best thing Dean had ever seen. Beautiful, warm sun – and Dean could finally go to bed. There would be no werewolves during the day. That thought made Dean grin and he grinned even more when he thought about the warm bed he could soon go to.

He and Sam sat on the porch of the motel. Dean leaned on their room's door and looked tired. Sam sat next to him, watching the rising sun.

“We sat here all night for nothing,” Dean said and yawned. The boring sitting there had almost made Dean's buttocks numb. He pulled himself up from the ground and stretched with loud sound effects.

“I will reward myself with a good long sleep,” Dean announced and turned to the door. Sam jumped up and looked at Dean. He didn't even look nearly as tired as Dean.

“You can't go to sleep now. We have to find the werewolf, and find out if he killed anyone else yesterday,” Sam said. Dean looked at Sam and wondered how Sam could look that perky.

“Sammy.. Just a little while. I'm much sharper after a few hours,” Dean said, he wanted to sleep so badly. He wouldn't have enough energy to even eat or have sex... Or maybe to eat... and have sex.

“Dean!” Sam said. Dean gave him an ugly tired man's glance, before he gave in. He sighed loudly as a protest and opened the door.

“Fine. I won't sleep,” he mumbled martyr like and walked into their room. Sam came after him and walked straight to Dean, who had suddenly stopped.

“What the hell?” Dean yelled and before Sam had a chance to go around him or push him, he walked to his bed. When Dean moved away from Sam, he saw the same thing that Dean had seen: their whole room was turned upside down. All clothes were ripped from closets and bags: sheets from the beds were lying all over the room: walls were covered with sticking knives and other sharp objects. Dean looked shocked as he spun around the room.

“What the... What.. What the hell has happened here?!” Dean finally managed to form a correct sentence. Sam slammed the door shut and walked towards Dean, his jaw almost touching the floor. Sam just stared at the walls, the floor – the entire chaotic place their room had become. He was very quiet, compared to Dean, who swore and cursed, promising to kill every demon, ghost and evil creature that would cross his path and – if necessary – all humans, too. He collected his stuff from the floor just to throw them somewhere else. Sam shook his head and smiled sadly.

“What are you smiling at? This isn't funny, Sam. Someone broke into our room! That son of a bitch could have taken anything here,” Dean yelled to Sam, but Sam just didn't lose his stupid smile, which annoyed Dean and made him even madder.

“You do understand that we were just outside the door, when this happened, right?” Sam asked and Dean didn't find anything amusing in that. He threw the shirt he was holding at his brother’s face.

“Shut up, smart ass, and check your things,” Dean growled and actually started collecting his things – really collecting, not just picking them up so he could throw them again. Sam agreed with Dean; the one, who had been there, didn't do it just for laughs. The mess was probably because of something. Sam knew they had to think about that, but Dean was in no mood for thinking, so that would have to happen later. Sam walked to the nearest wall intending to take the throwing stars and the knives down. He still heard Dean's silent cursing, but he didn't care about that. He got something more interesting. Sam made a “ha” sound, which sounded a little bit amused and that annoyed Dean almost over the edge. He turned to Sam, looking pissed.

“Sam, I swear to God, if you try to make fun of the situation once more, I will not be responsible for what I'm going to...,” Dean started with a threatening voice.

“Dean,” Sam interrupted Dean's little speech and pulled one knife out of the wall. Then he turned to Dean and handed him a peace of paper.

“I guess it's pretty clear who was here,” Sam said. Dean looked at the paper.

“That son of a bitch,” he mumbled and squeezed the paper in his fist, “She isn't taking this case and I'm going to make that very – I mean VERY – clear to her.” Dean’s voice was filled with hatred. He stuffed the small paper ball in his jeans’ pocket and turned to walk out. Sam saw from his brother's face, that it wouldn't be smart to let him stamp all over town on his own in that state of mind.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked standing between Dean and the front door.

“Where you think I'm going?” Dean threw the question back at Sam's face.

“You are not going to hunt another human!” Sam said in a firm voice.

“I'm not going to hunt her: I'm just going to talk to her,” Dean explained and tried to push Sam out of his way, but Sam didn't give up that easily: he grabbed Dean's shirt and pushed him to sit one of the beds. Then he stood between him and the door.

“Tell me, Dean, why do you have this obsession about this girl?” Sam truly wanted to know: Dean was acting like a lunatic, because of her. Dean glared at him with a very bad look on his face. He didn't think that he had an obsession: he was only mad at that girl.

“Obsession? I don't have an obsession!” Dean defended himself, but Sam didn't believe him and his face told Dean that. Dean would have liked to just yell at Sam that the girl was going to ruin everything and Sam should be worried too. Dean almost said that, but then he shut his mouth. He realized that he actually was acting really weird. So he tried to calm himself down and rubbed his face with both hands. Still not wanting to admit that he was obsessed, he tried to think of a reason for his actions.

“I don't know, Sam..,” Dean finally said and sighed. He tried to put his mind in order, “She was just so unbelievable yesterday and that she was here... I don't know if I am mad or excited.” When Dean said those words, he regretted them: now Sam would drive him completely crazy. Sam sat on the bed next to Dean.

“She wasn't that good... Well, okay she was, but she's just a hunter,” Sam said and Dean stood up. He wanted to tell Sam about his feeling that it wouldn't be so simple: he was sure that the girl brought only bad news with her and not to forget, Dean thought he had seen her before, somewhere.

“I just can't sit here anymore. Let's just kill the God damn werewolf and get the hell out of this town,” Dean said and headed towards the door, “And I swear to God that if she gets in my way one more time...” He added with a mumbling voice, but Sam still heard it.

“C'mon, Sammy. Let's hurry up before we lose the daylight,” Dean hurried Sam in a sarcastic voice, referencing the fact that the sun had just risen. Then he left the hotel room and tried to relax on the way to the Impala, but a nagging feeling inside of him didn't leave him be. He didn't want to show Sam anymore of that side of himself, so he stored the feeling deep down, and tried to ignore it. Sam wouldn't understand, and how could he, when Dean didn't understand it himself?

Dean sat on the driver’s seat, his hands placed on the steering wheel, and the only affect of his weird feeling showed in his hands, as he held the wheel so hard that his fists turned white. Sam joined him in the car, and the first thing he noticed were Dean's hands. Dean noticed them too, so he loosened his grip and started the car.

“I guess the Men In Black pays a visit to Dana Fay's house?” Dean said and grinned at Sam, but he felt the tension in his cheek muscles. Sam looked at him and smiled back, so Dean knew Sam bought it.

“I guess so,” Sam answered, and Dean started the engine. Dean headed to Miss Fay's place just like he did yesterday. They probably wouldn't find out anything new, or even anything true, but there was always a little chance that the sheriff knew the identity of the escaped werewolf. It wasn't very likely, but Sam and Dean kept their hopes high.

* * *

When they reached Miss Fay's house they faced a surprise: they had expected that the place would be crawling people, but both the driveway and the yard were empty. There were no police cars, no ambulance, no reporters – there was no one. The boys looked around, searching for all the people. Dean parked his baby on the side of the road and Sam got out of the car first. Dean followed him after he checked that he had the right ID with him.

“Where is everybody?” Sam said out loud the question that both were thinking.

“Probably they all are sleeping in their soft, comfortable beds without any pain-in-the-ass brothers trying to stop them,” Dean said and smirked at Sam.

“Ha ha ha,” Sam just replied dry voice as they started walking towards the front door.

“I just don't get it. I expected at least the sheriff to be here,” Sam said, when they stopped at the front of the door. Dean knocked.

“Miss Fay! Agent Johnson and agent Scot from last night. We came to check up on you,” Sam yelled through the door, but no one came to open it. Dean knocked again.

“Miss Fay!” But the door remained shut. Dean tried the door knob, just to make sure that it wasn't open, before he took a lockpick out of his jacket's pocket. While Dean was picking the lock, Sam constantly looked around to check that no one was around, so they wouldn't get caught. The lock clicked and then Dean opened the door. He slipped in, Sam right behind him. Sam closed the door as quietly as he could and took his gun in his hand, like Dean did.

The house was dark and silent, and it was pretty obvious that nobody was home, but in Dean and Sam's line of work you could never be sure enough. There weren't any lights on, but the boys still could see marks from the fight last night. Only one thing had changed, compared to the day before: the werewolf's body wasn't there.

Dean gave Sam a few hand signs: he wanted them to go upstairs. Sam nodded and they slowly started to move towards the stairs. Once they got there, they had to be extra careful with their moves so the steps wouldn't creak. All of their senses were extra sharp, therefore they would miss nothing. But there was nothing to hear or see or even smell. The house was still as silent as a grave. Without even one little creak, the boys went upstairs and kept moving. They checked every room, one by one, just to find nothing and no one. Last room was the bedroom where Dean saw Chris's dead body and where Dana asked Dean fuck off.

Sam pushed the door open and both of them rushed into the room with their guns ready. All of that was useless, like they understood, when they realized they were watching an empty room.

“Where's the body?” Sam asked and glared at a little dried puddle of blood.

“And where is Dana?” Dean added as his gun hand sank down. He moved deeper into the room searching for some kind of clue what had happened. Sam crouched next to the blood puddle and started examining it.

“I don't understand. There has clearly been a body here, but there are no signs of someone moving it. There's always something,” Sam said after a while. He stood up at the same time as Dean turned away from a window he had been studying.

“I saw the body, so yeah, there was one. But in the whole room there’s nothing that would tell us why no one is here – neither dead, nor alive,” Dean told Sam and walked towards him.

“We should get out of here. We can’t find out anything from here, and I don't want to be here when someone starts worrying about Dana,” Sam said, and Dean agreed.

“And girl like that – even a security guard notices when she doesn’t come to work,” Dean said and couldn't help the grin that appeared on his face. The memory of Dana at the door, her sexy lingerie caressing her skin, the glow on her face, the messy hair and the smell of sex all over her, just had that kind of effect.

“Dean,” Sam said bringing Dean back to the current moment. Dean wiped the grin off of his face and Dana's image faded away.

“Yeah, let's go,” Dean said and the boys left quickly.

Sam was the first one down and he just hurried towards the door. When he held out his hand to open it, he and Dean heard voices and steps outside. They exchanged quick glances, and rushed to the living room. They pressed themselves against a wall that was right next to the doorway of the room. The people outside the house didn't even bother knocking: they just walked straight it.

“You go pick up her stuff. All the things she wrote on this list and then come straight back down,” a woman's voice instructed the other person that was with her. The boys didn't hear anyone answering, but they heard steps leading upstairs.

Seconds slowed down, and Dean felt time didn't move at all. The woman was still in the hall, just a couple of meters away from them. She wasn't going anywhere, she was just looking around in the hall and making the boys very nervous. Then the other person came back down.

“You got everything? Good. Now leave,” the woman said and soon the door opened and closed. The boys stayed still, because they thought that only one person left the building, and soon that was confirmed, when someone went back upstairs. Dean, who was nearer the doorway, looked at the stairs: he saw a woman with long curly reddish hair walking upstairs. When she disappeared from Dean's sight, he waved his hand so Sam realized they can move. Once again they were in front of the door, and Dean opened it quickly. At the same time a horrible scream caught their attention from upstairs.

Sam and Dean looked at each other before they started running. The scream was so loud that the neighbors had probably heard it and the boys wanted to be far away from the scene before someone came to find out what was happening. They didn't say a word before Dean got the car started and left the neighborhood behind them.

“What the hell was that?” Dean asked when he couldn't see Dana's house from the mirror anymore.

“I have no idea,” Sam said and moved to look outside.

“And I will never have an idea, if I don't get breakfast,” Dean announced and suddenly stopped the car. He had seen a nice little restaurant. Sam didn't argue with him: first of all he was hungry too, but more important was the fact that Dean became the most annoying and cranky person in the world without food.

Next to the door of the restaurant was a board full of ads, missing pet announcements and missing person announcements. Dean didn't even notice it; he moved by the instinct to get food. Sam instead gave it one look, but he had to look a second time too. He walked closer to it.

“Dean!” Sam yelled, and Dean appeared next to him, looking mad.

“Sam, why do you hate me? Why can't I even eat?” he asked glaring at Sam.

“We’ll go in a minute. Just look at this board,” Sam recommended, and Dean looked at it quickly without actually even seeing anything.

“Great board. Really nice finding, Sammy. Now to eat,” Dean said sarcastically and turned to the door.

“No, just really look at it, Dean,” Sam said and Dean sighed. He turned to the board and stared it for a moment before the understanding showed on his face.

“All these missing people...” Dean said and took one announcement down. He looked at the cute smiling girl in the picture, “What has happened to them?”

“I have a wild guess,” Sam said and took another down, then he handed it over to Dean. Dean looked at it and then shook his head.

“Son of a bitch... All of these are werewolves?” Dean asked and the announcement he was holding was written about the werewolf they saw night before.

“I guess so,” Sam said and pointed out one where this handsome guy was, “He was the one that girl killed.” Dean didn't say anything when he started taking the announcements down one by one. There were at least ten of them and all of them had happened during the last week. Dean made a nice pile and turned to Sam.

“We can go over these during breakfast,” Dean said to Sam grinning. Then he walked into the restaurant.

* * *

“And I bet that Dana's picture will be found today on that same board,” Dean said when a waitress had just brought them their orders.

“Yeah, I think so too. There are eleven people missing so far, and we know for sure that at least two of them are – or were – werewolves,” Sam recapped while he browsed through the announcements.

“If you ask me, I think they all are. They are gathering some freaking werewolf army here or something,” Dean said and filled his mouth again with food.

“I thought I had made my point clear,” a familiar female voice surprised them. Dean dropped his fork and looked up: there she was again, the supergirl from last night. She was wearing blue jeans, a long-sleeved long black shirt and she had a big black hat, which almost fully covered her face.

“If you had stuck around, instead of escaping you would know what our answer would have been,” Dean said. The girl leaned to their table and looked at Dean under her hat.

“You cocky bastard. I'm trying to save your life here, but what do you do? Same as always, play the hero for as long as you can, but in the end you leave people in trouble. Like Sammy here. By the end of the night, his photo will be on that damn board,” she hissed and glowered at Dean. It made Dean feel really uncomfortable. Her words bothered him, more than he liked to admit.

“And you are so much better? You destroy people’s rooms and leave them creepy notes?” Dean's voice changed from mocking to angry. The girl pushed herself away from the table.

“What's that suppose to mean?” she asked in an almost amusing voice. Dean dug out the piece of paper from his pocket and threw it at the girl. She caught it with one hand, and then she slowly opened it. She read it and started laughing.

“You think I wrote this?” she asked and laughed. She threw the paper to Dean's lap. “You should know better, Dean. That is not my style.” Dean couldn't hold himself back anymore: he stood up and looked at the girl.

“How would I know what your style is and what it’s not? I don't know you, God damn it!” Dean said loudly and the restaurant became quiet all the sudden. Neither he nor the girl noticed it, but Sam did. He looked around and smiled to everybody really apologizing.

“Dean,” he tried to whisper loudly, but Dean just raised his hand for a do-not-disturb sign. Sam looked around him again and just smiled.

“Think harder you, scumbag!” she answered in a voice as loud as the one Dean had talked in. Then Dean grabbed her and pushed her against the nearest wall. Loud gasping could be heard in the restaurant, when all customers followed the action. Sam jumped up and walked to the fighting couple.

Because of the bump in the wall, girl's hat dropped and Dean could finally see her face. Big brown eyes, a perfect little nose, a little mouth and messy long dark brown hair. Her eyes were filled with sadness, anger and pain and her lips were a little parted. Dean grip loosened.

“Oh my God...”

Chapter 3