Chapter Text
Once More with Feeling
Italics = thoughts/flashbacks/journal entries
Chapter I
--Dean--
The first thing Dean became aware of was the familiar and comfortable feeling of leather beneath him. The next thing he was aware of was the silence.
Dean opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings one thing at a time. First was the light outside of Baby's windshield. The second was the fact he was sitting in Baby's driver seat and apparently alone. Taking a look around revealed yes; he was alone; no Sammy and no Cas.
At the thought of his wayward Angel, something deep within Dean clenched in pain. The memories of their time together and everything they had been through went through his mind. Cas was his best friend, family, but he hadn't really treated the Angel much like a friend, much less family.
When he left to confront Amara and Chuck, to settle things once and for all, his thoughts had been on his best friend. All of the regrets and missed moments between them. His one wish had been to fix-it. A chance to fix everything, not just between him, Cas, and Sammy, but for everyone.
Pulling his mind away from these thoughts, Dean looked around him again, this time in confusion. Something just seemed off...
Reaching for his phone and only finding a flip phone really made him even more confused. “What the hell?”
Picking up the device and opening it to reveal the date: November 16, 2002. 2002?! That's fourteen years ago! What the hell?! He had somehow ended up back in time. Back to when Sam left for Stanford. No, Sammy was at Stanford, had been for two months now. Dean frowned, Sammy would be safe for now, but Dean would need to make sure he stayed that way. This means the yellow-eyed demon, Azazel, would need to be dealt with soon.
But, for now, his next step should be to organize his thoughts and gather data. The best place he figured to do that was at Bobby's.
With his mind made up, Dean headed for Sioux Falls. As he drove, he thought about what he would need to tell Bobby. He was debating whether or not to come out and tell the truth about the time travel. Then his thoughts suddenly halted...Bobby was alive! Not only was Bobby alive, so were many other of their friends and family. There was so much he could change.
That reminded him that he needed to stop and buy some notebooks to keep track of hunts and event information. He frowned.It might be a good idea to keep a personal journal too. There were so many issues that needed to be worked out, his treatment of Cas was one of them. How could he have let things get so far out of control?
He was pulled from his thoughts by pinging from his phone. He pulled Baby over to the side of the road to check his text messages.It seemed like his father had found a hunt for him to take care of. He sighed. Bobby would have to wait.
Turning Baby around, Dean headed back in the other direction. He would deal with this possible Werewolf hunt first then figure out what needed to be done about Azazel and the Apocalypse next.
After several pit stops along the way, Dean pulled into the parking lot of the motel in Whitefish, Montana. Once checked into his room, Dean pulled up all the info he had on the case. The attacks took place in the residential area near Glacier National Park, so it looked like they were using the park as a home base. He would need to be careful; he would be hunting in their territory.
His first task would be the morgue to take a closer look at the remains. But that would have to wait until in the morning. For now, Dean continued with his research, frowning as he dug deeper into the attacks. He knew werewolves; this wasn't sounding exactly like werewolves, though.Sure the missing hearts was correct, but werewolves didn't usually hunt in a pack unless they were changing tactics. Dean decided to put the rest of his research off until after he made that trip to the morgue; for now, time for bed.
Dean stood from the table and made his way to the bathroom, where he stripped off his close and took a long, hot shower. Once finished, he grabbed a towel to dry off and stood in front of the mirror. Wiping away the condensation that had gathered, Dean saw his reflection for the first time since he woke up in Baby. Looking in the mirror, Dean was speechless. He looked like a kid. Did 14 years really make that much of a difference? Yes, apparently, it did.
It hit him like a hammer then; he really was 14 years in the past. There was so much that hadn't happened, so much he could change. So many people he could save.
Dean shook those thoughts away, couldn't be dwelling on them now. He had a case to solve first, then he could make a plan. But his thoughts drifted for a moment. He remembered all of the people he had lost over the years. There were a few that stuck out more than others, but his thoughts were on two specific people or rather a person and an angel; Ash and Castiel.
It had taken Dean a while to come to terms with the thought that he was bisexual, and he had felt this more than once over the following few years. Though his father had cautioned him against developing attachments in their line of work, Dean couldn't help but feel that that thought wasn't entirely true. If he fell for someone who was supernatural or already part of the supernatural world, then they already knew the risks that came with this life; there would be no secrets. Ash lived at the Roadhouse and was part of the hunter life while Cas was an angel. Both of them knew this life and the risks and both had been willing to take that risk on him.
Dean shook those thoughts from his mind and got ready for bed. The next morning Dean woke up, made motel coffee and got dressed in one of his suits. Time for the Detective to make inquiries at the morgue.
After grabbing a quick bite to eat at the local diner, Dean headed to the morgue to talk to the medical examiner. The more he heard about the attacks the less he believed it was werewolves, but what other monsters could it be?
Making sure he had enough silver bullets to take down multiple targets, Dean got into Baby and headed for the first crime scene. It was about 29 miles away from Whitefish in Big Creek Campground. Remote forest, perfect place for wolves, or his monsters.
About forty minutes later Dean pulled into one of the parking spots of the campground and exited Baby, grabbing his duffel bag from the backseat. According to the sheriff, the first body had been found about two miles from the campground while the second was much further up along the trail. Checking to make sure his gun was loaded with silver bullets, Dean made his way from the campground towards the hiking trail. Following the trail, Dean kept his hunter senses on his surroundings. He was in the creature's territory now and he had to be careful not to get caught off guard.
Sometime later found Dean a mile up the trail when he spotted a set of tracks in the dirt of the side of the path. He frowned, this wasn't where they said the body was found. Looking carefully around the area, Dean found more tracks. He carefully followed the path gun drawn and ready, just in case. He moved as quietly and as carefully as he could through the trees, keeping his sense of his surroundings, even as followed the tracks.
It wasn't until he reached a break in the trees that he spotted a second set of tracks. Kneeling down in the dirt, he got a good look at what were clearly claw marks in the soft soil. Wolves, he thought. He frowned, wolves didn't normally chase humans, not unless they were threatened or near a den. This wasn't making any sense. It was clear though that the attack didn't happen here, there was no blood. Frown deepening, Dean took a closer look around and spotted more tracks in the dirt.
Nodding, he stood back up and proceeded down the trail, following the path set by the wolves. About a half-mile away from where he found the first set of wolf tracks he spotted a dull rust-colored substance upon one of the leaves of a fern. Moving closer to get a better look, it was dried blood. Looking around him, Dean spotted more blood on the surrounding plants.It appeared he was getting closer to the kill zone. There, no more than a few yards from the first sign of blood was a puddle upon the ground.
As the hunter crouched to get a closer look at the blood, a soft noise off to his right caught his attention. Dean's head rose and he looked around him carefully, his gun held firmly in his grasp. There was no other noise, but Dean didn't let down his guard. His eyes carefully swept the area around him once more, before turning back to the main crime scene. The congealed puddle of blood had begun to separate; clearly, it had been there for a while. It fit the timings of the attacks, but it still wasn't making sense. This wasn't the behavior of typical wolves or werewolves for that matter.
Dean frowned, completely confused, What exactly was he hunting? This didn't fit any of the familiar monster patterns...
Dean heard a soft sound somewhere off to his left, right before a heavy weight slammed into his side. Dean grunted from the impact and cursed as his gun was knocked out of his grasp. As he scrambled to his feet, he glanced to where his gun had landed. He made a mad grab for it, but his hand fell short as another heavy weight crashed into him. Dean caught a glimpse of silvery fur as he hit his knees.
His head whipped around, trying to keep track of the wolves as they darted in and out of the cover of the trees. He watched their movements carefully, remembering that wolves were pack hunters. He had to keep his wits about him if he wanted to not end up like the last victims.
Another flash of fur had him moving, just as sharp teeth bit the air where he had been standing. Dean whirled around keeping the silver wolf in his sights, as he edged towards his gun. While he did have a knife in his belt sheath, he felt more comfortable with his gun in his hands.
A soft rustle of moving branches caught the hunters' attention and he dodged yet another strike, this time by a different wolf; a dapple gray one. Dean eyed the wolf, aware that the more silver-colored one was still off to his right somewhere. One or two wolves, Dean was sure he could handle, but the problem was he had no idea exactly how large this pack was. He'd come prepared to take on werewolves or skin-walkers, not man-eating wild wolves or whatever these were.
Dean took a moment to get a closer look at the wolf that was studying him just as closely. He could tell right away by the intelligence in its eyes that this was no normal wolf. He knew wolves were smart, but the calculating look in the eyes of this one was more human than beast. It was most certainly a wolf shapeshifter then; a pack of shapeshifters. He'd never faced this kind of creature before, so Dean wasn't quite sure his silver bullets would have an impact. At least, not unless he went for the obvious head or heart shot. It would have to be dead on, there was no room for error, but first, he had to get to his gun.
Making sure to keep a close eye on both his surroundings and the two wolves, Dean inched his way around the clearing in the direction of his gun. He kept one hand close to the hilt of the knife in his back sheath as he moved; he didn't know how many wolves were in this pack, so he was being extra cautious. He had just about reached his gun when a heavy weight caught him in the side. Pain ripped through his shoulder as he fell to his knees. Grunting with effort, Dean covered those last few inches towards his gun and turned just in time to put a bullet in one of the lunging wolves' hearts.
Covering the bleeding wound with his other hand to put pressure on it, Dean pushed himself painfully to his feet and took aim at the next attacking wolf shooting it in the head. Dean kept track of his surroundings as he started to make his way back towards the path that leads to the campground. A few more rounds of silver bullets took care of the rest of the pack.
Once he was sure it was safe, Dean slumped against the nearest tree, the adrenaline from the attack wearing off. He cautiously removed his hand from his shoulder to get a better look at the wound. Three long gashes decorated his shoulder from where the wolf’s claws had caught him. As he stared, the bleeding tapered off and the wounds started to slowly heal.. Shaken, Dean pushed down the implications of his faster healing. He replaced his hand on the wound and made his way towards the campground where Baby waited for him. He'd deal with that once he got back to the motel in Whitefish.