Dean cursed under his breath. He remembered how excited he'd once been about a werewolf hunt but now that seemed to have been a lifetime ago. And not long enough. This was still too close to Madison. Sam had been off his game since they'd found out that this was another werewolf.
At least this one was a dude so the chances were slim that Sam got romantic with their perp, Dean mentally kicked himself for even thinking that, however, there had been an instant bond between Sam and this Dave guy. C'mon, young, brilliant college guy with a dead girlfriend? That hit way too close to home. Until they'd found out that it had been Dave who'd ripped his girlfriend to shreds. He didn't know it and it wasn't really his fault, wrong place, wrong time and all that, but that didn't change the fact that they had to put a silver bullet in Dave's heart. Sam was tearing himself up over that before they even had the chance to kill this guy.
And now it was the last night of the full moon and they were running around in circles without finding Dave the werewolf. It was raining, too.
Dean looked around in search for his brother without finding him either. Great, now he'd lost sight of Sam.
Dean cursed a little more and wiped the rain out of his eyes. That damn thing had to be here somewhere. Gank that mother, get back to the motel for a hot shower and then drag Sam to the next bar and fill him up. That was the plan.
But now Dean was cold to the bone and soaking wet, what had started as a drizzle was now a pouring rain which left him with a visual range of shit point zero. No sign of the werewolf. Maybe he'd been smart enough and had stayed home. Watching Lassie or whatever werewolves did for fun when they weren't ripping their girlfriend's heart out.
"Sam?" Dean raised his voice but if there was an answer from Sam it was lost in the clatter of the rain. "Just awesome."
Dean turned around and trotted back to the car. They knew who it was so they didn't have to wait until the next full moon to wrap this hunt up but they had hoped to stop Dave before he had the chance to kill again. Maybe the rain had scared him off.
"Yeah, as if we're ever that lucky." Dean muttered.
Then there was a scream and a shot and Dean took off running.
They were at the car. Only illuminated by the dim light coming from the not properly closed trunk Dean could barely make out the broad figure that was his brother struggling with who he guessed was Dave the werewolf.
"Hey!" Dean yelled, gun trained at the scene in front of him but he couldn't get a clear shot, not without risking shooting Sam.
Sam had lost his gun and was now fighting the werewolf with bare hands, mainly trying to keep the teeth away from his throat. Dean ran faster. He had to get closer and shoot the bastard before he sank his teeth in Sam's flesh.
Before Dean could close the distance, Sam got hold of the lid of the trunk and slammed it upwards. With a satisfying thud followed by a very dog-like yelp it hit the werwolf in the face.
Covering his bloody mouth with both hands Dave the werewolf stumbled backwards and Sam didn't waste time and dove for his gun. Dean didn't waste time either and as soon as Sam was out of the line of fire, he sent the bullets flying.
When Dean reached the fallen man, the werewolf looked like college boy Dave again and rain was pooling in his open eyes.
Dean turned towards Sam who sat on the edge of the trunk, catching his breath.
"Nice move with the lid." Dean stepped closer, observing first his brother then his car. "Dude, are there frigging teeth marks on my car?"
Sam didn't response to the playful teasing, didn't even lift his head. He just sat there, hunched over.
"Sam?" Dean swallowed thickly. "Are you hurt?" Say no, say no, saynosaynononono.
"Got me with the claws." Sam straightened up, took a deep breath and lifted his jacket to have a look at his side.
"Claws?" Dean stepped closer to have a look as well but he couldn't really make out more than torn shirts. Just like him Sam was wet through and through and in the light from the trunk it was impossible to tell more than that there was blood mixed in the water dripping from his brother.
"Sam, just claws?" Dean repeated his question with barely concealed fear. "You sure?"
Sam nodded and Dean let out the breath he was holding.
"Okay, let's get back to the motel and fix you up." Dean guided him to the passenger side and then hurried around the car.
While Dean slipped in the driver's seat Sam used the better light in the front to inspect his wound more properly.
"Not bad." Sam answered but there was something in his voice.
Slowly Sam lifted his head and all of a sudden he looked like a scared five-year-old.
"Dean, I'm not sure."