Hunted {Dean Winchester 3}

Chapter 13

Bedtime Stories

"I don't understand, Dean. Why not?" Sam asked as Dean sped down the dark backroad.

"Do they always fight like this?" Millie asked quietly.

"All the time." I answered, running my hand over Lady's back as she sat in my lap.

"Because I said so." Dean replied.

"We have the Colt now." Sam argued. 

"Sam." Dean said in a warning tone that I shouldn't find as attractive as I do. 

"We can summon the crossroad demon--"

"We're not summoning anything." Dean stated. 

"--Pull the gun on her and force her to let you out." Sam continued.

"We don't know that'll work." Dean snapped. 

"Well, then we'll just shoot her. If she dies, the deal goes away!" Sam said.

"That doesn't sound right." I mumbled. 

"We don't know if that'll work either! All your pitching me right now is a bunch of ifs and maybes and that's not good enough because if we screw with this deal, you and Saige die!" Dean yelled. "And I will not watch that again!"

"And if we don't screw with it, you die!"

"SAM, ENOUGH. I'm not gonna have this conversation again." Dean snapped. 

"Why? Because you said so?" Sam asked.

"YES, BECAUSE I SAID SO."

"Well, you're not Dad." Sam told him. 

Dean looked at Sam for a moment, eyes blazing. "No, but I am the oldest." He said, much calmer. "And I'm doing what's best!" There went the calm. "You're gonna let this go, you understand me?"

It went silent, awkwardly silent. 

"Um, I have something to say." I spoke up. Millie looked at me as if I were crazy. "You know, I was thinking, maybe we should--"

"Tell me about the psychotic killer." Dean interrupted me, thankfully. 

I honestly had no plan for that sentence and had zero clue where it was going. 

"Come on, Sam, tell me about the psychotic killer." Dean repeated. 

Sam grabbed the newspaper form the dash. "'Psychotic killer: Rips victims apart with brute-like ferocity.'"

"Okay, any mention of his razor-sharp teeth or his four-inch claws, animal eyes?" Dean asked. 

"No." Sam mumbled. "The lunar cycle's right. Look, if it is a werewolf, we don't have long. Moon's full on Friday. That's the last time he changes for a month."

"Two days, no sweat." Dean nodded. 

___

"I'm Detective Plant, this is Detective Page and Tyler." Dean said as we held up our badges. "We're with the county sheriff's department."

"Yeah, uh, been expecting you." Kyle--the only surviving victim of the attack--nodded his head as he lie in a hospital bed. 

"You have?" Dean asked.

"All morning." Kyle said. "You are the sketch artist, right?"

"Um..." Sam stuttered.

"Absolutely." Dean stated, though I'm not sure any of us could draw anything other than a stick figure. "Yeah. That is exactly who my partner is." He pointed to Sam. 'And the things he can do with a pen." He chuckled. Sam glared at him. "But, listen, before we get started on that, I wanted to ask you, uh, how'd you get away?"