I Don't Bite [Dean Winchester x Reader]

Hello

To say that Calliope and Booth were stunned by my sudden desire to go home was an understatement. When I awoke in the field, it was near noon and the sun was blisteringly hot, just as expected from a warm summer day. It hadn't taken me long to find my way back to camp and begin to swiftly order them to pack up. They were startled by my sudden aggression, although they didn't have the nerve to ask why I had a sudden change of heart. That much I was thankful for. I really didn't want to explain.

In just an hour, we were on our way home, marching slowly but surely across the mountainous terrain. In a few short days, we had passed through the states we had previously traveled through, back to where I had met Clarence. By the end of the week, we were home.

I sighed, my gaze flickering over the now well-maintained front lawn, various colorful flowers dotting the flowerbeds. I had a pleasant view of the surrounding landscape from my perch, the windowsill of the largest window in my loft, and the moonlight poured over me from my seated position on a thin cushion. Between my hands rested a mug, filled with plenty of caffeine to keep me awake for most of the night.

I didn't want to sleep. Each night had just brought frustration, failure after failure as I tried to meet the white wolf's demands. I was never able to speak to anyone but him, and certainly not in the way he wanted me to. My grip tightened on the mug, my knuckles going white with tension. If I slept, I knew he would drag me back to the darkness. If I stayed awake, I'd be left alone with my thoughts for another long night.

To my surprise, I was happier dealing with my rampant thoughts than with the mysterious wolf. My thoughts, at least, I could control.

I took a long sip of my drink, ignoring the sting on my tongue and basking in the warmth against my hands. The weeks following my return home had been quiet, although I enjoyed the solitude. It gave me a chance to breathe, and focus on what I needed for the first time in... months.

I sighed and shifted on the cushion, glancing into the tree line. It was Marcus and Caeden's night to hunt, and they had already been gone for hours. I was beginning to worry that we were steadily exhausting our food supply, although that didn't make sense. There were only seven of us, and thousands, maybe even millions of deer and various other prey. Perhaps they were just taking their time and enjoying the evening.

I pushed my head back against the wall, throat bared to the moonlight and eyes narrowed in thought. For once, I didn't want to traipse out into the forest after them and run until I felt my legs would give out. I didn't want to do much of anything, and yet I was so bored and disinterested in my daily life.

I missed the excitement of hunting, the feeling of making a difference in the world. I missed the thrill of a chase and the feeling of knowing that I had saved a life. I didn't care much for the idea of making the world a better place - rather, I cared that I was reaffirming my place in the world. Every hunt proved to me that I wasn't the monster skinwalkers were made out to be. Without hunting, I didn't have that affirmation. Of course, I knew I wasn't a monster - the faith my friends and my family had in me was proof enough of that.

I missed the brothers. I missed their playful banter and the fun we would have on hunts. I missed Sam's witticisms and his keen intelligence. I missed... well, I missed Dean. I missed everything about him and wanted nothing more than to join them once again, perhaps track down Yellow-eyes and sink my fangs into his throat.

Truthfully, it hadn't been that long since I had last seen them, but I still missed them just as much as I missed my pack after weeks of being away. I wondered if I could someday have both - keep my pack close and still engage with the Winchesters and the hunting lifestyle. Something told me it would be nearly impossible to have both, but I didn't care.