#hudak | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

laurel-finch · 5 months

Text

'I Don't Bite' S1.Ch08: Stay

Summary: The Winchesters move on to their next hunt while the reader takes some time to herself... Referenced Episodes: mentioned S1 E15 "The Benders" CW: None. Word Count: 4349 Recommended Song: I Want To Break Free -- Queen Previous Chapter -- Masterlist -- Next Chapter

It had been three days already, but it felt like minutes. To their surprise, I had refused to allow the boys to take me home. I had barely shared my logic, saying I didn't want to endanger them. That was the most I had said in days.

To say I was shocked by my actions was an understatement. Never had I experienced such brutality, not even with Chikaltio. But it wasn't just the shock that was getting to me, it was the horror as I recalled what I had done. It was so much worse than last time because this time I was truly angry. The lack of control was what frightened me, not the action itself.

We had driven as far west as we could the day after and settled in a motel. It was in a rather small farming community in North Dakota. I was thankful the boys were willing to stay with me, although they both seemed rather wary. They understood my situation though, and how much it was weighing on me.

I had been wrapped up in the same thick comforter for two days as if that could stop me from lashing out if I snapped again. I hadn't left the motel room and the most I moved was walking to the bathroom to take a long shower. At least one of the brothers was always with me, though I wasn't sure if it was for my safety or theirs. My hands shook and my lip quivered every time I slowly lifted my gaze to look over at whichever brother was busy babysitting me. It’s not like they wanted to be stuck with a hopeless monster.

The trip back to the motel the night of the incident was quiet. We had parted ways with Deputy Hudak on relatively good terms – she had agreed not to report the boys, regardless of her knowing Dean's real identity. Her warm eyes kept meeting my ragged form, covered in ragged, ripped clothes and a large coat thrown haphazardly around my shoulders. My jaws were clamped firmly shut as I swallowed the taste of blood down, using my tongue to scrape away the last of the flavor on my teeth. It was numbing and claustrophobic all at once.

For once, I tolerated the discomfort of the backseat of the Impala. I didn't have the energy to complain. I knew I should have been excited that Sam was back in his rightful seat, but I just couldn't. The scent of vomit hung in the air, and I believe it belonged to Sam. I couldn't blame him. I had half a mind to empty the contents of my stomach.

The near full moon was above the horizon, a sight that normally brought instinctive excitement. However, I wanted nothing more than to skin myself and hang my pelt as a flag of surrender. The thought of using my furred form made me sick.

I thought I had better control over myself now. I thought I wouldn't let it happen again.

I barely remember entering the motel room. I know I shrugged off any offer of assistance thrown my way nervously, fearing that I may hurt them too. I know now that I never willingly would. They're family.

I say that as though those two words summarize every emotion I felt regarding the Winchesters.

I threw myself face-first onto the couch and curled into a ball before the boys had even set their stuff down. The room was silent for some time. I jumped, feeling a pair of arms lift me, and hissed at my gentle assailant. The rustling of fabric could be heard and I cracked one bloodshot eye to see Dean pulling back the covers on his bed. Sam carefully deposited me and the brothers worked together to smooth out the blankets. I didn't have the heart to argue.

I fell asleep to the sound of the brothers bickering over who would take the couch, my heart heavy and still covered in dried blood. The next morning I woke in the back seat of the Impala. I didn't remember being carried to the car, or even the start of our drive. I was still in the oversized old clothes that I had been loaned. We barely spoke.

Dean finally spotted a motel to his liking as the sun was setting. Sam paid for the room and the brothers brought in our minimal luggage while I took a shower. I was in the bathroom for a long time, scrubbing my skin raw and fighting with my now matted hair, twisted into bloody curls. To say it was an unpleasant experience was an understatement.

This trend continued for two more days, with utter silence from me unless asked a question and concern from the brothers. My presence felt bothersome and my skin itched with an anxious heat. Now I was seated on one of the motel beds, still wrapped in my comforter and willing to talk for the first time in days.

The boys sat at a small table under a window. I sat on the edge of the bed, my feet poking out from underneath the blanket wrapped tightly around me. I stared at my feet, not sure what to say. None of us were sure how to begin.

Sam sighed and ran a hand down his face before facing me with a stern look. "I'm going to go out on a limb and say this isn't the first time you've lost your cool like that." I flinched at the harshness of his words. Dean sputtered in his seat across from his brother. "Most people when they lose their shit look shocked. You looked terrified."

"Of course, I was terrified," I snapped back, voice no longer a whisper for the first time in days. "I didn't mean to. I just... was angry."

The room was silent once more until Dean finally spoke up. "What about the first time this happened? Did you...?"

The implication hung in the air. The brothers were always quick to put two-and-two together – my steadfast aversion to human dinners had to come from somewhere. The boys looked stressed but made no move to confirm or deny. I dropped my gaze once more. "Yeah," I whispered.

"Were you angry then, too?" Sam asked quietly.

"No. Far from it. It's... a bit of an embarrassing story." I lifted my head, locking eyes with them as they motioned for me to continue. "It was about a year before my mom died. I was fifteen, in high school and my boyfriend at the time had come to visit me at my home. My parents weren't in the house at the time," I exhaled shakily. "You can probably guess where this is going."

My eyes settled on Dean's as the realization hit him. "Oh shit. Were you..? Wait, you guys were-?"

"Kissing,” I said with a pointed look. I accidentally bit him. Broke the skin. Even if I hadn't killed him, he still would have turned." Fuck, this was hard to talk about it. Even with my parents, we just… ignored it and moved on. At least they did around me. I heard their fights when they thought I was asleep. "I tasted his blood and... kept biting. Next thing I know, my parents are storming in and I'm covered in blood.

"We had to leave after that. Moved to a new state. A year later, my parents got into a fight – nothing unusual there, they had a lot of fights, but this one was really bad.” I swallowed dryly and kept my gaze firmly rooted on the floor. My cheeks were red and my head hurt, disgusted with myself after silently vowing to keep this quiet for so long. “She was pissed. Went on a rampage for the first time since she had been bit. She… begged my uncle to put her out of her misery. Dad left after that and my uncle took me in. It was never supposed to happen again."

I felt sick just thinking about it. The taste of copper flooded my tongue and I swallowed, taking the flavor into the back of my throat. My tongue burned and I scraped the fresh wound across the back of my teeth. The pain was a good distraction. Horror, shock, pity. I hated the piteous looks.

"When that guy hit Sam... I don't want either of you to get hurt ever. It's... been a long time since I've had human blood, torn human flesh. It’s just… instinct, you know? You can fight it, but sometimes it just…” I huffed out a tired breath and pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders, hiding in its thick folds. Maybe if I buried myself far enough down, no one would see me, want me, fear me, touch me. Maybe I was better off not being seen.

"I’m gonna leave for a while, I think. Clear my head. It's hard enough for me to think about it, let alone for you to have watched. I need some time to… sort myself out."

My voice was becoming raspy over unshed tears. I had exhausted my ability to cry already. I played with the hem of my shirt beneath the heavy blanket and waited for their response.

"You don't have to leave," said Sam quietly. I raised my head in surprise, eyes wide. "We trust you."

My brows furrowed and my eyes narrowed. Two monster hunters who had known me for, what, a few months were saying they trusted me? “Why-?”

"You've never given us a reason not to, aside from trying to beat the crap out of us when we first met," Dean responded with a small, reassuring smile. "What you did, yeah, it was awful, but you had a reason. Everyone loses it from time to time – you losing it is just a bit bloodier than us losing it."

"Thank you," I sniffed, surprised to find tears welling up again. "And I won't let it happen again." I flashed them a weak smile.

—

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," Sam offered, helping me pack my bag. He took a wad of cash and shoved it into one of the small, hidden pockets of my backpack.

"But I do want to. I've distracted you guys long enough. You need to go find your dad and get back to hunting things. That's what you do best, not moping alongside a traumatized girl," I joked back, smiling reassuringly. He chuckled softly.

"Dean's not going to like it.."

"Dean can pack sand. I'm not just doing this to protect you idiots – I'm doing it for myself, too. Think of it as... my spiritual journey, or whatever." Sam cracked up at this, a wide grin spreading across his features.

He handed me a few more of my clothes and an old but warm jacket that I recognized as Dean's. I quirked an eyebrow, too which Sam shrugged. "Dean doesn't wear it anymore, and I don't think he'd mind you taking it. You need something to keep you warm."

Right. No fur.

Sam called my name quietly, and I hummed in response. He brushed a brown lock out of his face, a worried expression settling upon it. "Are you sure you want to leave? You could at least wait for Dean to get back so he can give you a ride."

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," I attempted to reassure. My movements were hesitant as I reached a hand out to touch his shoulder. I swallowed dryly and attempted to ignore the sound of his pulse in his throat and the feeling of warm flesh beneath my palm. "I'll catch you later, Sam. Take care of your brother for me, make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble."

"Will do," he said, throwing up a mock salute.

With that, I was off and out the door of the motel room. The early morning sunlight nearly blinded me, but I didn't care.

I was momentarily free, and that's all that mattered.

—

Despite it not quite being spring yet, the North Dakota weather was quite warm. With not a tree in sight, it was just me and the bright sun, its rays beating down on me until I was dripping sweat. It didn't take long for me to remove my leather jacket and wrap it around my waist, the hot sun warming my now exposed shoulders.

I wasn't far from the eastern Montana border. I was in the badlands at this point, enjoying the scenery and the steep, jagged cliffs. Nothing like back home. The view rivaled that of the vast flax fields I had passed some hours ago, their stems and shoots a vibrant green. In just a few short months those fields would turn a pale purple from the sheer number of tiny purple flowers blossoming from the browning stalks. I wished I could be here to see that.

After hours of walking my limbs had found an odd rhythm with my feet thumping haphazardly against the paved highway. Sometime later I would take notice of my throbbing feet and aching knees, and tread a little more gently. Eventually, I would lose interest and continue with my thundering.

I was sure that by now Dean had been alerted to my absence. I knew he would be furious, but I hoped that he would eventually understand – after all, it wasn't a true goodbye. I knew that, had either of the boys asked me to, I would have stayed. Sam trusted me and my judgment, although he may not have agreed with it, and knew that my mind was set. He wouldn't try to change it. Dean, however, always believed there was a better way. He was pushy that way, always getting so fixated on the task at hand and finding the best solution. He wasn’t methodical about it like Sam was. No, he was all heart. That seemed to be a trend with my family – my mother and my uncle, despite being adopted siblings, shared the intensely passionate feelings of loyalty and pride that most hunters felt.

I remember the day I learned about his death. I had received a call from an officer in Georgia; they had found a body they wanted me to identify. I hardly believed it until I saw it with my own eyes.

It hit me like a semi when I saw him. I had expected him to look nightmarish, but the only flaw in his appearance was his ruptured skull, his missing brain, and his hair shredded. It was obvious that he had been attacked by the very wraith he had been hunting.

His face was immaculately clean, having been washed by the coroner before his autopsy. His eyes were closed and what I determined to be a faint smile was etched onto his lips. The skin around his eyes was wrinkled with age, and laugh lines were visible.

He had been a better picturesque father to me than my real father. My father had loved me, that was obvious, but he had never wanted children. The arguments between my parents had always been over what to do with me, and how to raise me.

My father showed his love through harsh tutelage. There was hardly a lesson he taught that didn't have me on my ass in the dirt. He taught me to fight, saying one day I would need to know how. I wanted to resent him, but I just couldn't. I loved him. After all, he was my father. The only thing I did resent about him was the fact that he left when I needed him. For all I knew, he could be dead.

I stretched, tossing my arms high in the air. I felt joints pop and muscles release their tension, brought in by my rather morbid thoughts. It was a good feeling. Despite my stature, I felt like I could nearly touch the sun. I was on top of the world, alone and free for the first time in months.

Alone.

The sun was sweltering now, and I was almost sure I would receive a burn from hours under its strong rays. In maybe two more hours the sun would set behind the tall plateaus, leaving me in darkness. I quickened my pace, still not sure where I was headed. Perhaps I could make it out of the badlands before the sunset.

—

I found a rest stop on the edge of the badlands where I happily spent the night. Sure, sleeping on the hard tile floor wasn't my favorite, but at least I was warm and had a roof over my head. I woke with the sun the next morning, feeling surprisingly refreshed and ready to face the day.

I knew I was deep in Montana, but I wasn't sure where. I was somewhere towards the western Montana border. I could see the Rockies towering above me, clawing at the sky.

I sighed and gently rubbed my tired eyes. There was a McDonald’s and a gas station built into the restaurant that my stomach demanded my perusal, despite my groan of protest. McDonald's was not food and no amount of pestering would ever make me think so. Give me a salad and an elk heart any day over fake, processed chicken nuggets, likely not even made with real meat. That was just the monster in me, craving fresh food. Preferably raw.

I scowled up at the taunting golden arches – I felt like they were laughing at me. With a loud, disgruntled huff I marched towards the glass doors of the small fast-food restaurant.

"The ice cream machine had better be working," I snarled quietly to myself.

I threw open the door a bit more roughly than I was anticipating - the entirety of the small restaurant glanced up at me in surprise and bewilderment. I smiled shyly and shut the door quietly behind me. With a rather fast gait, I made my way to the counter and hurriedly placed my order. I didn't want to be around humans more than I needed to.

Slinging my heavy backpack over my shoulder once more I made my way toward the restroom. It was hidden around a corner, not easy to spot at first. With a grumble I shoved the heavy swinging door open to the bathroom and tossed my bag on the floor, immediately rummaging through it.

I looked up, hearing the sound of a toilet flushing from one of the stalls, and caught the eye of a woman exiting.

The scent of a forest hit my nose, but it wasn’t the typical scent of pine trees. No, her scent made me picture towering forests and a thick layer of fresh, powdery snow lying on the ground. The tree limbs were bending under the weight of the snow, and eventually, they would tip just enough to deposit their powder onto the ground. I pictured mountains soaring above the tops of the trees, snow sprinkled on the sides of the towering giants, reminding me of powdered sugar.

My eyes widened and latched onto the girl's once more, finally refocusing. Her lips split into a shocked expression, her icy eyes wide. I had only met one other person with such an intense scent, and even then Dean spurred the image of cherries, not an entire wintry scene.

“I’m sorry, I- this isn’t? Is this your territory? I’m sorry I didn’t- uh… I'm Calliope," she said with a vague gesture to herself.

I uttered my name in return, returning her wide-eyed expression. I shook my head, scaring away the daze.

She looked to be about my age. She was more rugged than me and was rather muscular. She was tall and lean, but she didn't look like a fighter, more like someone who spent a lot of time running.

Her eyes were glacial, an odd color given her dark hair and tanned skin. Her hair was not quite brown, but not quite black. It was more gray, like dark charcoal, and was pulled into a tight ponytail. I imagined that if she had it down it would easily lay between her shoulder blades. Her skin was ashy but warm in color and dotted with the rare freckle.

I turned and fled.

My food still wasn't ready, causing me to growl out of frustration. Rather than asking them to hurry up, I grumbled lowly and marched out the door. I stopped and sighed, my breath fogging in the cool night air. The moon was waning again and in a few weeks, it would be gone.

"Remind me where you're headed again?" Calliope chirped behind me. I jumped, forgetting that she was there. I had half expected her to stay in the restaurant.

I sputtered, trying to gather my answer. "I-I'm just kind of wandering, really. I don't have a destination."

She grinned heartily, her eyes wild with enthusiasm. "Me too! Maybe we could travel together?" she offered. I scowled at this, and I could almost picture her ears drooping.

"I'm traveling alone for a reason," I stated, harsher than I had intended. The dejected look on her face made me want to take it all back. I shook my head and averted my eyes before taking a few steps toward the road.

"At least let me travel with you for the night," she offered. I glanced back over my shoulder at her. "It's not safe to be out here alone at night."

I huffed and flashed her a small smile. "I think I can handle it." Once more I turned away from her, her eyes glaring daggers into my back.

She turned to me with a soft pout and began talking. "You know, you could get to wherever you're going a lot faster if you just changed shape."

I tensed and shrugged it off, doing my best to hide my discomfort. "I'm enjoying taking it slow."

She quirked an eyebrow and faced forward again, her eyes scanning the empty road in front of her. "That's a lame excuse." I tensed once more and tossed a frigid glare at her, my grip on my backpack straps tightening. I was capable of shifting, it wasn't like I was physically incapable, but each time I grasped for that familiar feeling of my body blanketed in warm fur, it just… slipped between my fingers like grains of sand. Hard to cling onto and force to the surface. A mental barrier. Fear.

I had tried to shift shortly after the incident, one of the first few nights with the boys. I tried, and I came close. My fur had grown out and I could feel my bones trying to rearrange, but I hadn't been able to go all the way. Since then, anytime I tried I just regressed further. Now I could hardly make the molten color surpass the regular color of my eyes.

"You are a skinwalker, right? Don't tell me I-"

"I'm a skinwalker," I interjected, my eyebrows furrowed and anger rising on my features. "And I can shift. I'm not... defective or anything."

She shrugged in response and faced forward once again. "I suppose that explains why you smell weird, though." At this, I quirked a brow.

"What do you mean?"

She chuckled and clasped her hands behind her back. "You smell... almost scared? And human. Like... really human. Were you turned recently or something?"

I barked out a laugh and she jumped, thoroughly not expecting that reaction. "No, I wasn't turned recently.”

“Neither was I.”

I quirked a brow and stared from the corner of my eye. She matched me step for step, her eyes locked forward and brows furrowed.

“When?” I asked.

She hummed thoughtfully for a movement, contemplating where to begin. “Long time ago. I was young, it was targeted.” She scowled at that last word and turned away for just a moment before continuing her story. “My parents didn't know what to do when I started turning into a puppy all of a sudden.

"They put me in foster care when no one believed them," she said the last part with a chuckle. "I ran away from the group home I was in a couple of times – finally got away with it when I was about thirteen. I've been on my own ever since, save for the occasional other monster I've met and hung out with for a while." She grinned at me and turned around, walking backward again. "What about you? What's your story?"

I chuckled softly, not wanting to share now. My story felt… like nothing compared to my staggering tale. "Not too much to tell. I wasn't turned. I was born like this."

She stopped in her tracks, her blue eyes widening. "That’s new.”

“It's not common, but it's not impossible."

"So then why aren't you shifting?" I stiffened again. I glared suspiciously at her and her eyes were wide with curiosity. "Is that another reason why you smell weird? Cause you’re... what, purebred?" I huffed and grabbed onto the straps of my backpack again.

"I don't know what I smell like, so I don't know."

"Earthy," she said softly. "And strong... but also afraid..? But not afraid like an animal is when it's being hunted. More like... insecure, if that's possibly a smell?"

"So I smell like dirt, power, and insecurity?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

I chuckled, a light blush blossoming on my features. "Well I don't know about the power or insecurity, but the dirt is probably from the fact that I haven't been able to shower in the last three days."

She wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, that's probably it. I bet the power is from your pedigree. And I think you know more about your insecurity scent than you're letting on." She wiggled her eyebrows playfully.

I smiled slightly, flashing white teeth at her. "Probably. Maybe if you stick around long enough, you'll find out."

She smirked widely, looking ecstatic. "Does that make us traveling buddies?"

I chuckled. "For now."