Author's Notes: This prologue contains a different verb tense, cussing, weirdness, and one angsty demi-god. The POV in this story shifts between Coyote the Trickster and Dean Winchester. First up is Coyote. The views and opinions Coyote expresses are not those of the author.
Summary: This is the sequel to Dog Eat Dog. Dean/Coyote, Sam and John go to war against the skinwalkers in the desert Southwest.
Disclaimer: Don't own them. Darn.
I kept a low profile the first few days out.
I wasn't scared. Just...cautious.
That Sam kid's just happy to have his big brother back.
John Winchester? I can read him a little better now, but that doesn't make me feel all warm and fuzzy. He still makes me nervous. Good thing I'm not drivin'. I always feel like backin' up with my tail between my legs whenever he looks at me. For the last twenty years at least, he's made it his life's mission to hunt down and kill things…
I should be able to forget all that. After all he's done, 'specially in the last few days, I should be able to call him Dad. He went to hell willingly for my kid and me. Made a deal with that yellow-eyed bastard even though he knew I was inside his eldest son.
Later on we brought him back from hell. Like the kid said, "What's the sense of being able to do all this if we can't help family, huh?"
So we did. John helped us. Sam did too. They took care'a us when we were sick and dying, when we were all trapped in that bad place. That's what families do for each other, I guess.
I came into this world fully formed. Never had a real family of my own.
Picked up a lot of names through the years. Maquįį, Roamer, Old Man. The Magician, First Artist, God's Dog. First Scolder is one 'a my favorites. I was here in the beginning with the First People, First Man and First Woman.
Nice couple. Ain't too thrilled with some of the stuff they came up with -- that damn Witchery Way, f'example -- but hey, I should talk.
We all have our dark spots.
I know you heard of me. Everyone has.
I've done my share of dying. Got popped enough times when I was four legged. Run over by a rancher's wagon? Hell, I was back by nightfall. Shot through the heart by some bastard with a rifle? No problem. Sometimes I didn't even bother to cross over. Popped the bullet back out and gave the trigger-happy sonofabitch something to remember me by.
Pissed off this ol' bruja witch over near Las Cruces. She was ugly enough to break day, and I wasn't shy about tellin' her that to her face when she popped the question. Hey, I like sex just as much as the next dog, but I got standards to maintain, and Broom Hilda didn't meet any of 'em.
Next thing I knew I was hanging from a fence completely skinned, with my ears and tail cut off.
Took a little more effort comin' back from that one. I paid her a little visit after I got myself back together. Payback's a bitch. And so am I.
Afterwards I roamed around from place to place, taught a few lessons here and there to high seddity folks who needed to be taken down a peg. I had what I thought was a good life.
Shoulda' known things weren't gonna stay that way.
Started hangin' around two leggers more. Liked the way the females looked. All shapes, colors and sizes. They smelled nice, too. The human pups…well, yeah, they were cute in a helpless, hairless way. No need to get all choked up about them. I could take 'em or leave them.
But that didn't mean I wanted to see them hurt, killed or hungry.
Whatever I decide to do, I do it damn well. I've stolen fire from immortals, borrowed a herd of cattle to keep two leggers warm and fed during the winter. Yeah, I said "borrowed". Borrowed, stole, found, it's all the same. Tomato, tomahto. What's the big deal?
Some of those dark things I mentioned before decided to include people in their diet. That pissed me off. I killed a couple of Sasquatch. Got a thunderbird, a giant, even a goat man that wandered down from the Pacific Northwest. Don't laugh. Those sumbitches might look and sound ridiculous, but they're not. They always carry axes, or some other really sharp blade. They're vicious 'cause they're so damned ugly. Good thing they travel alone and not in packs. I nearly got my fool head split in two dealing with just the one.
I kept watching the two leggers, and I felt like I was missing something. Felt like a hole inside of me, and nothing I did could fill it up. I tried to have a family of my own, and it didn't matter if I was two legged or four. I screwed it up every damn time.
Everyone I ever loved left me. Or worse.
That lone wolf crap? Hey, that's for wolves, not coyotes. We run in pairs or packs. We don't do well alone.
I sure in the hell didn't.
Long story short, I went to the Powers That Be and asked to be put in a human body. Figured I'd have a better chance of keeping a family if I did that.
I figured wrong.
My soul was split in two. Halved right down the middle. Coyote and human. Two legged and four. 'm a Trickster, remember? I pretended to be human enough times. I could pour on the charm, talk my way in and out of just about any and everything.
They had enough they could work with. I figured the split didn't really matter because we'd merge back into one later on.
Damn, did I figure wrong.
That was how I ended up inside John and Mary Winchester's newborn son, Dean Michael Winchester.
John and Sam weren't hunters at first. No telling what way they…we would have gone if that damn yellow eyed jackass hadn't shown up.
Mary Winchester. Damn, she was beautiful. She had a…a kind spirit. Just as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside.
John Winchester? Wouldn't know it to look at him, and I sure in the hell would never say this to his face, but he was a big ol' teddy bear in the beginning. He didn't get scary until later…after the fire that killed Mary.
Oh, family life was fine at first. Mom. Dad. Me and the kid. I was content. Didn't try to even try to rush the merge. Why the hell should I? Everything was okay.
I even got a little happy when I found out we were gonna have a baby brother. After the little pup arrived my kid found out he could move things with his mind, and the first thing he did was amuse his baby brother with it. Kid stuff.
One day Dean freaked out on me, thought he'd hurt the pup accidentally, and he decided to lock up everything that was special about himself, and I mean everything, including me.
I got walled up.
Like to know where in the hell he learned that trick. Didn't get it from me. Shit happens, and don't I know it.
When I came out over twenty-four years later, I came out mean.
Me and the kid have had our ups and downs. I pushed hard and he pushed right back. Little brother got caught up in the middle, and I didn't care. Wasn't that fond of him either, at the time. Nearly died several times while we sorted things out. Old Yellow Eye showed up and tried to make some of those deaths permanent. Wasn't due to lack of trying. It was our pleasure to return the favor. Old Yeller's dead and gone now, and I was glad to have a part in it. It was the least I could do for Mary Winchester.
We're on the road right now. Me and the kid. John and Sam. Got family from my past out here. They're in trouble, taken by yenaldooshi. Skinwalkers.
Skinwalkers took from me before, a long time ago. They took my family. Took my life. Now they're back again, and this time they took from us, me and the kid.
Slymm's out there. Lost, alone. They took Redd's soul. My daughter Bertha's husband, Thomas.
The witches who got away went around mouthin' off to the others, just to cover up that we kicked their asses right good and proper, and it turns out that what we did doesn't matter. Means Coyote is fair game for any idiot who wants to make a name for him or her damn self. Heard talk that we'd make somebody a good pet, that we're fuckin' trainable now, heel sit stay come here boy like a good little tame damn dog.
Think we're gonna stand for any of this? Better think again.
We left the homestead days ago. Bear promised to keep an eye on Bertha and the place until we get back. He's a kachina, and not many things out here are going to knowingly go head to head with a kachina. I almost feel sorry for that time I tricked him about those fish in that river.
I said almost.
Sun's out; it's a good day for a hunt. I sense something familiar at the same time Dean does, and the kid stops his horse, sits still in the saddle.
John and Sam follow our lead.
John doesn't react when Dean's eyes go yellow. No sideways glance; he doesn't tense up. Sam takes it all in, just as casual as can be, like the idea of a trickster inside his big brother is no big deal and Sam's known about it all his life, instead of just two weeks ago.
Don't know what I'd do if they did react badly. Don't even know why I'm being such a damn girl about all this.
We can sense Thomas. Faint, but it's him. He's trapped inside his own body, but he's fighting the bastard that took him, not making it easy. Good. Hang in there, bro'. We're coming.
They were lost because of us. Thomas and Redd and Slymm. Now we're gonna bring them all home, safe and sound.
And kill as many evil sonsabitches as we possibly can.
I'm still nervous around Sam and John, but they're here. Didn't have to make this their fight, but they did. That's what family does for each other.
I got two families now, past and present. They're broken and kinda messed up but they're all I got in this world. They're mine, and that's more than enough.
We all have a part to play in this, and I ain't screwing up. Not this time.
Let's see if this old dog can still hunt.
Okey dokey. There you have it. Don't be shy; let me know what you think.
Next up: Dean's POV. The boys get sidetracked at a roadside joint run by a long-dead serial killer. We got angst. And alligators.