werewolf!Dean unfinished
Feb. 4th, 2009 07:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tigriswolfSo, everyone remembers the werewolf!Dean 'verse, right? I've decided I'm never gonna finish the sequel(which I was able to locate, thanks to email), so I'm posting what I do have. There was originaly more, involving Andy's pov and his crush on Dean, and Sam warning him off, but that's lost, because of the computer virus that ate EVERYTHING "Supernatural". *sighs*
Title: warm, warm, it’s always warm here
Fandom: “Supernatural”
Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun. Title from “The LA Song” by Christian Kane.
Warnings: majorly AU. Mentions of past slash, past non-con
Pairings: mentions of Gordon/Dean
Rating: R
Wordcount:
Point of view: third
Notes: sequel to “sunshine turns the sky to gold”
More notes: I gave Lily the last name Vern.
Spring 2007
Rome—Dean, damnit, it’s Dean now—remembers the day Master—Walker, his name was Gordon Walker—gave him the bracelet, bound it around his left wrist, told him that so long as he wore it, he belonged to Mast—Walker. And it’s been on his wrist for nearly twenty years, now.
Winch—Sam wants him to take it off. They all do. But Rom—Dean can’t bring himself to do it. Not yet.
This isn’t a world he knows—everything’s different, everything’s changed, and he wants to flee into the woods, to race beneath the sky, to howl for Pack. Mas—Walker, Walker, his name was Walker, he’s not Master anymore—was Pack, but now Walker is dead, and the psychics are Pack. Sam is Pack.
Sam, most of all, is Pack. Dean almost feels safe whenever around him.
Almost.
Ms. Mosley watches him with guarded eyes. Most of the rest shy away from him, only Ava Wilson, Andy Gallagher and Scott Carey ever drawing close. Jake Talley and Ansem Weems—Andy’s twin brother—don’t trust him. Lily Vern studies him with kind eyes, but never approaches.
They’re right, Ms. Mosley, Jake, and Ansem. He’s been taught and trained to hunt them, to kill them—and now he lives with them. Now he eats his meals in their kitchen and sleeps beneath their roof, and his loyalty—shaky it might be—is only to Sam.
Ms. Mosley teaches him what is to be human, tells him laws and mannerisms. He wishes Sam, or even Ava, could show him, instead, but they’re far too busy.
“Sam is the leader,” Ms. Mosley explains. “It’s up to him to keep everyone safe—he doesn’t have the time it’d take to help you.”
Dean nods. “I understand, Ma’am.”
She purses her lips. “Well, despite what all else can be said about you—you are a polite boy.”
He knows praise when he hears it. “Thank you, Ma’am.”
The day before his first moon with Sam, he overhears Sam arguing with Jake and Ansem.
“It isn’t safe for you to go out with him!” Jake yells. “We won’t let you!”
Sam’s voice is dark and dangerous, a tone Dean’s never heard him use before. “Let me?” He chuckles, slow and deep. Dean shivers. “No one lets me do anything, Talley. He’s my brother and I will go with him.”
“Sam, Boss, c’mon,” Ansem cuts in. “You know what a bad idea this is!”
Dean slinks away, but Sam’s chuckle echoes in his mind, reminding him so much of Mast—Gordon Walker that he trembles.
Sam finds him later that day, sitting in the garden. His face is turned towards the sky, his eyes closed, soaking up the sun. “Tomorrow,” Sam says, sinking down beside him, “we’re goin’ out to a nearby forest.”
“Tomorrow’s the pre-moon,” Dean tells him without opening his eyes.
“I know,” Sam replies. “But you’ve been wantin’ to go out for almost a month.”
Dean turns to face him, studies him. “Do you want to mate with me, Sam?”
Sam’s face pales and he blanches, recoiling. “No, Dean,” he answers. “No. I just want to help you.”
Dean’s silent for a moment, then he says, “Gordon Walker loved mating with me.”
“I know,” Sam whispers, and Dean wants to ask how he can help get rid of some of the pain in Sam’s voice. But there is nothing to do, so he just turns back to the sun.
The forest Sam picks is nearly an hour away. Dean doesn’t ask why, just looks out the window at the countryside.
“I hope that one day you can trust me,” Sam says softly.
Dean doesn’t react.
“Like, what all he did to you? I hope one day you’ll tell me.”
Dean continues staring at the scenery. Gordon Walker never wanted him to talk, never needed his words. But Sam seems to crave what little Dean says, and he’s lost at how to respond.
Sam sighs and turns up the radio; Dean trails his fingers along his bracelet, almost missing the clarity of being Rome.
Sam watches him change, eyes drinking in the transformation. Once he’s wolf, Dean waits for instructions.
He slept through the last moon, body too tired and shocked to deal with it. Becoming Dean Winchester, again, Gordon Walker dying, the backlash of Sam’s explosion—he slept for eight days and woke to a new world.
He doesn’t know what Sam wants, what any of them want. He’s been dreaming of Pack, of the ‘wolves Gordon Walker killed and took him from. Too many people are crowding around his head, and he’s lost at sea. He needs someone to tell him what to do.
Sam stares down at him and crouches, cards his fingers in Dean’s fur. Dean doesn’t want to preen, doesn’t want to take pleasure from Sam’s touch—but he does. He moves closer, whining low in his throat, and Sam digs his fingers into his skin, kneading his flesh.
He feels different from Gordon Walker, and Dean revels in it even as he tries to pull away. Sam is Pack—but Pack can hurt. And Dean just doesn’t want to hurt anymore.
He loved Gordon Walker, he did—because he’d forgotten to hate him. But, being away from him for nearly a month has pulled back all the curtains.
Dean loathed Gordon Walker far more than he’d ever loved the man. He worshipped the ground Gordon Walker trod on because he couldn’t do anything else. Gordon Walker wouldn’t let him.
Sam isn’t Walker. Sam doesn’t wish to own him, command him—hurt him. Sam wants to save him, which is a new—terrifying—thing. Sam brought him to these woods so that he could run free, not for training or for hunting, but for…
Fun.
Sam will let him go. Walker always held him close, kept him chained and fettered, offered him just enough to keep him coming back.
So, with a lingering look up at his pack, Dean slowly moves backward. Sam smiles and lets his hand drop, says, “Go on, Dean.”
And Dean takes off, racing through the trees, howling up to the moon. And he’s free.
On the drive back, the morning after the post-moon, Dean wonders if Sam had known Dean would return. If he thought maybe Dean would just keep running, keep going, never come back. He did consider it, stretching his legs wide, going faster and faster—
But Sam is Pack. And Dean never abandons Pack. So every night, as moonset approached, Dean wheeled around and ran back.
Dean wanders the complex, keeping to himself. He doesn’t have the words to speak with anyone but Ms. Mosley and Sam. He doesn’t have the inclination, either, used to solitude and quiet.
Sam gives him the room right next to his; Jake is on the other side, his dark eyes always watching Dean. Despite Sam’s assurances—perhaps even because of them—Jake refuses to trust Dean. Ansem follows Jake’s lead.
Ava makes time for Dean where she can, bringing him books and movies. He has so much time he doesn’t know what to do with—Walker used to make every second count. Dean had assignments and chores, commands to be obeyed with every breath. And now he has nothing. Now he has days and hours stretching before him, empty and endless, and the things Ava gives him to nothing to alleviate the pain and fear.
It’s the fifth moon with Sam and his pack before Dean’s allowed out on a hunt. He goes with Andy and someone he hasn’t met before, a woman named Christina. Her ability is telekinesis; between her and Andy, there won’t be much for him to do.
“You’re just watching,” Sam told him. “Seein’ how we work.” He held Dean’s gaze. “Promise me you’ll just watch.”
“I promise,” Dean said, only knowing about promises from Ms. Moseley’s lessons. The words meant nothing, though he could tell Sam pulled them close.
He sits in the back of Christina’s car and listens as they reminisce. Christina asks about Ansem and Andy laughingly relates a story. Dean listens only distantly, filing away the words for study later.
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(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-05 05:49 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-05 03:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-05 01:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-05 03:52 pm (UTC)*pouts*
Stupid computer viruses.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-05 04:10 pm (UTC)Any chance you could maybe reconstruct the parts about Any and Dean and Sam warning Andy off? I feel your pain about that %$#@ computer virus. My other computer died a slow lingering death last year. Took me a while to reconstruct several stories I had. Not sure if I got 'em all, but it happens like that.
Anyway, what you posted was still some of the best fic I've seen over here. Way better than most of the fic, as a matter of fact. You have plot and angst and memorable characters. What is the matter with you? :)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-06 12:24 am (UTC)I should probably reread the whole thing, one of these days.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-06 12:50 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-05 09:46 pm (UTC):) Any chance you'd finish it?
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-06 12:26 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-06 08:36 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-07 05:00 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-19 07:45 am (UTC)Someone was looking for a werewolf fic on SPN Storyfinders, and it turned out to be this one. I followed the link, since I thought I remembered it and I wanted to double-check if I had it saved.(I do, btw.) I was happily surprised to discover that you had written a sequel. I am sorry that your original version was eaten by the virus from hell, but what you have here is wonderful. I can only hope that someday your muse will return with the rest of the story.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-19 01:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-19 10:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-19 11:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-12 04:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-12 06:54 pm (UTC)