Rouge

Chapter 8

What the Hell? Was all John could think when a huge dark grey wolf appeared as if from nowhere. It's size wasn't natural, but there wasn't a full moon either. It definitely wasn't the wolf they were hunting earlier in the month. The golden wolf had been strangely captivating, this wolf was just terrifying. John saw it rise up over his remaining son. He couldn't stand to lose another son to a wolf, he would not survive it.

"SAM!" was all the warning John could get out before he barrelled into Sam, pushing out-of-the-way of the deadly wolf's claws. The beast's paw came down with a crushing force and hit John square in the chest. As his body left the ground, John caught sight of a flash of gold racing toward the dark grey wolf. John couldn't explain why, but the sight of the golden wolf racing toward the dark grey did not scare him. He felt a spark of hope grow inside him; that help had arrived, before the world was stolen away from him by pain and the blackness of unconsciousness.

Consciousness returned slowly to John. The first time he became aware of his surroundings, he felt himself been slowly dragged. As he was pulled along it jostled his sore ribs, he let out a groan. John was comforted by a warm breath on the back of his neck; its steady breathing calmed him for some reason. He tried opening his eyes, but all he could see was a gold blur around him. Unable to stay conscious the blackness slowly claimed him again.

The next time John regained some consciousness, he struggled to work out what was real and what was in his head. He heard the purr of the Impala as it was pushed beyond sensible speeds. Why was Sam driving so fast? I'm not that badly hurt, thought John. At one point he could hear humming, it was a Metallica song. John was intensely reminder of Dean, how he used humming as a distraction method when he was extremely stressed or in pain. When had Sam picked up that habit? John wondered. John must have then drifted into a waking dream. He dreamt that he and Sam were back in the woods again, but this time he watched helplessly as the wolf ripped Sam apart. It happened over and over again. John tried to call out to warn Sam, but it didn't work. The wolf continued to get the drop on Sam and rip him to threads. So that nothing remained, but an unrecognisable mangled body just like Dean was.

John drifted in this state of being half awake and half asleep. The sound of the Impala engine let him know that Sam was safe, and not been eaten by wolves. That was how John stayed until Sam took a corner too fast, jolting John awake. The first thing he noticed was that they had arrived at Bobby's, the second was that it wasn't Sam driving. John stared at the man next to him, suddenly everything slipped into place. He was no longer staring at a twenty-six year old man, but sixteen year old Dean. His son, his long dead son, there he sat looking every bit like a scare sixteen year old. He was half naked with blood covering his body, but it was him. For a second John thought he was still dreaming, but it just felt so right in his gut. So he allowed himself to hope.

"Dean?" the words came out of his mouth in barely a whisper, however that was all it took to snap his boy back to reality. Dean slammed his foot on the breaks and harshly turned the wheel, causing the Impala to slide. John felt his body slam back into the passenger side door. Dean was out of the car in a flash. John was too dazed still to make any attempt to follow.

As soon as the world stopped spinning John was out of the car. He saw Dean crawling toward the junk yard, but his son body seemed to be betraying him. John didn't even realise he was calling Dean's name, until his own voice echoed in his ear. He watched helplessly as Dean's body suddenly seemed to go boneless and he slumped to the ground. Before John could run to the aid of his lost son, hands grabbed his shoulders spinning him around to face one very angry Bobby Singer with a shot-gun.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON JOHN WINCHESTER?" Bobby yelled into John's face. It was enough to snap John back to the present. What the hell was going on? The last thing John remembered was a giant grey wolf about to make Sam into a chew toy.

"SAM!" John yelled as he turned back to the car. There was Sam with a nasty gash on his head, but seemingly sleeping in the back seat. Opening the door to the back, John winced as he bent down to check on Sam. God, it felt like someone had used his side as a trampoline. Putting that aside for now John checked Sam over. Other than a slightly swollen wrist and some claw marks on his head Sam seemed physically fine, but John was still worried as he tapped Sam on the cheek trying to wake him up. Sam's eyes drifted open and his hazel eyes met John's brown. There was a second of confusion in the hazel eyes before realisation hit, Sam was then up in a flash.

"The wolves, what happened?" Sam stared around in confusion as he pushed himself out of the Impala, and discovered they were at Bobby's. John however, had lost focus in his youngest as soon as he had realise he was fine. John's focus was back on his older son.

Bobby had moved closer to the unconscious Dean. His gun raised, pointed at the body, but he couldn't get closer or get a clean shot off as his Rottweiler had put himself between Bobby and Dean. The dog was standing over Dean's body growling at Bobby, which caused John to pause. That was new. John had never thought he would ever see that dog show any sort of aggression toward its master.

"Bobby, lower your gun." suggested John. Bobby just looked at John like he was a few screws loose, before sighing and lowering the weapon. The change was instant the dog stopped growling at Bobby, and turn to gently lick Dean's face.

"He's the golden wolf." Sam said it so bluntly that he could have told John the weather.

"What?" was the only response John had to Sam's statement.

Sam simply pointed at Dean's head. "His ear has a chunk missing from it just like the golden wolf has. It's from where I shot him." Seeing the blank stares his father and Bobby were giving him Sam continued. "The wolf we chased at the start of the month had a chunk missing from his left ear from where I shot him. We were rescued by that same wolf tonight Dad. He fought the grey wolf, at first I thought they were just fighting over who got to eat us first, but the way he kept putting himself between me and the other wolf even when he was hurt. It was like he was protecting us. And the fact that this guy is missing a chunk from his left ear, he's ripped to threads like he lost a match with a lawn mower and he's wearing Dad's old jeans. Therefore he's the golden wolf. How the hell did he end up in your yard Bobby?"

"He drove us here." John answered as he stared in shock at Dean. His son was a werewolf. They also nearly killed him a month ago. John thanked whoever was listening for preventing Sam from killing Dean back then. He couldn't have imagined the guilt that Sam would felt if he had succeeded. Guilt would have eaten his youngest up. John knew that if there was no-way to save Dean, or keep him from hurting anyone, than John himself would put a bullet in his head, but that was John's burden to carry not Sam's. However, John could not condemn his son to death now after only just finding him again. Bobby had a panic room that could safely contain a raging werewolf. Walking over to Dean John eyed the Rottweiler, but the dog didn't seem to see him as a threat, it just continued to muzzle his son. Grabbing hold of Dean's shoulders, John prepared to lift him. "Sam, grab his feet. Bobby, we are going to need to lock him in the panic room until we work out what to do with him. Can you grab the med kit and any drugs you might have that will knock out a wolf if needed?"

Bobby was staring at John as if he had just put two and two together. "It's not him John." Bobby ignored Sam confused glanced. "It can't be him, you know that right?"

"Sam, help me carry him." Sam sent confused looks between John and Bobby, but he helped John carry Dean inside. John listened, as they headed through the house to the panic room, to Bobby grumbling that he was insane for allowing John to bring a damn werewolf into his house. John couldn't help but smile ruefully when he heard Bobby say, that he hopes John got eaten first just so he realise what a massive idiot he was. John didn't really care though. For now he had Dean back and he was going to try his hardest to save his son, before he condemned him.