The Hunted // A Supernatural Fan-Fic

Chapter 2

Dean rubbed his eyes. The dull hum of the impala's engine almost lulling him to sleep. He'd been driving cross country, looking for Shane. He'd scoured every inch of forest, checked every motel, and listened to every police report since Shane disappeared. And in that month, he'd found virtually nothing. Shane's trail instantly went ice cold. He'd spent hours chasing phantom leads with no luck. He just wished that there had been able to find something. Anything.

Dean pulled into a parking space outside of another dreary motel. He'd let her slip away again. He'd lost her again. He'd let her run away. Again.

After Dean had gone back to Bobby's house, things... hadn't ended well. He and Sam had parted ways temporarily, just until Shane was found. And Dean and Bobby weren't exactly on speaking terms....

"What the hell were you thinking, Bobby!? You pulled a fricking gun on her!"

"Well I'm sorry that I didn't want any of us to end up dead, boy!"

"Well great job! Shane's gone."

"What do you mean she's gone?" Sam chimed in concerned.

"Shane's gone! She's not out there! You scared her off and now she's gone! God only knows where she is! That kid is an expert runner, and I have no idea how to find her!"

Bobby slammed his fist into the table, "Just get out. You get out of here just like she did. Running. I'm sorry I scared off a frickin' Blood Sear and offended you by trying to keep us alive, Dean! Don't come around here until you get some sense your old man tried to hardwire into you knocked back into that thick head of yours!"

Dean stormed out the door and toward his car. He kicked the rear tire, groaning in frustration.

That was the last time they spoke. Dean was still aggravated with Bobby for what he did. Shane was gone now, and Dean knew that if Bobby hadn't pulled that gun, if he hadn't scared Shane off, she'd still be there where Dean could protect her.

Sam, however, had been much more understanding. Sam had suggested that he and Dean went separate ways until Shane was found. Sam understood how much Shane meant to Dean. How he felt responsible for her. Sam had promised to keep working on other jobs, keeping up with the "family business" until Shane was found. Dead or alive.

Everything had been going crazy lately. Dean wanted nothing more than to find Shane. Find her and bring her home. At least somewhere where she'd be safe. He couldn't imagine what she was going through. Dean had heard from a few hunters looking for something that sounded like it could be Shane, but they didn't have any information, and if any seemed like they did, they refused to share. Dean was running out of options. 

He just wanted to know Shane was safe. If he could know just one thing, if he could have someone tell him just one thing, it'd be if Shane was safe or not. At the very least, he wanted to know that. 

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"Ahhhhh!!" Shane screamed in agony. There was a searing pain in her spine. It felt like someone was breaking every individual vertebrae she had. It was night time. The moon was slightly breaking through the trees that enveloped her. Every few minutes another scream would burst through her lips, unable to be contained any longer. Behind her in the woods were three bodies, throat ripped out just like the first victim. She hadn't been able to control herself. After the first kill, she'd blacked out until she found herself here. The only thing she could sense through the blackness was the same euphoric feeling after swallowing the flesh. Shane hadn't been able to lap up the blood this time since she'd killed them in the forest. Most of the blood that escaped was filled with dirt, pine needles, and insects. Luckily, her monster instincts didn't allow her to eat it. She wasn't that desperate.

Another scream left her lips.

"They're getting worse, huh?" The familiar voice of the Trickster reached her ears.

"What's happening to me? Why... why is it getting worse?"

He sighed. He walked over towards Shane and sat on a log beside her. "You're progressing, Shane. You're-"

"If you say waking up I will kill you right here," Shane growled.

"Jeeze. Relax, kid. I know it hurts, but still..."

Shane screamed again, vomiting a gigantic pool of blood onto the ground in front of her crumpled frame.

"You're really moving along, aren't you?"

Shane collapsed onto her side, groaning in pain.

"Do you want to explain to me why there's a trail of bodies behind you, Shane? Isn't it hard enough to hide from hunters without leaving a trail of corpses in your wake?"

Shane tossed up more blood before growling out an answer, "I didn't mean to kill all of them. Just... just the first one. I didn't know... that-"

"You didn't know you were doing it until it was done?"

She nodded.

The Trickster sighed, "I can't stay anymore, kid. You're going to have to get through this one on your own."

"Wait-" Shane tried to stand up, "Wait!" Just as Shane started to stand up the Trickster disappeared.

Shane looked at the sky. The night was more than half over, but her control was not coming back. She tried to muster the strength to stand, but it wouldn't work. The transformations were becoming so violent. She didn't know what to do with them. How to react. How to control them. If the cravings to kill weren't enough to make Shane hate what she was becoming, the transformations were.

Everything was spinning. She tried to calm herself down, but she couldn't. So, she bunkered down, practically soaking in the blood and pain, and tried to sleep. 

Tried being the operative word. 

The deep, throbbing pains she felt couldn't be pushed aside long enough to drift off. Usually, they could be held off, but not today. 

Shane opened her tightly clenched eyes and began to cry. That was one thing she was accustomed to now. Tears. Shane had cried herself to sleep nearly every night since she left. It was the only thing that made her still feel human. The only thing that helped her deny that she was becoming a monster. She referred to tears as one of her anchors. Well, that's the term the Trickster had used to describe them. He'd told her that anchors were things that held your mind in the real world. In your past self. Things that meant or mean so much to you that you will do anything to not lose them mentally. And Shane knew she had three: tears, music, and Dean. She had desperately longed for some music. Some distant memories of lullabies from her past would drift into her head, and she loved them. She didn't know where they came from, but they helped her carry on. 

Her anchor that meant the most, though, was Dean. She'd been temped to call him so many times. To tell him where she was so he could come find her. So he could help save her. So he could protect her. But... every time she had those thoughts, a voice in her head would growl saying things like; "you're too dangerous to be around humans," and "he'll never care about you again if he sees what you've become." Those nagging thoughts killed her. Driving her deeper and deeper into the ground. And it ached. 

She could only hold on to the memories and pray that she could find a way to control herself. If she could do that, she could go back to Dean and Sam. She could be with them without risking her hurting them. But until she knew she wouldn't hurt them, she wouldn't... no... couldn't go back. 

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