I groaned, very much in agreement with sentiment Dean had just expressed. Werewolves were annoying, and nasty, and just not worth the time it took to kill. I hated the damn things, we both did. We pushed the body back into its self-enclosed container. After bidding good-bye to the coroner with the caution we may be back, we walked back to the Impala.

"Man, that was nasty. Even for us."

"Think there's more than one?"

"Werewolves in packs? It's possible."

"So, we can go figure out who these things are?"

"That's why I'm here." I was already frustrated. This was supposed to be a quick and clean case. Werewolves were rarely quick and never clean. I knew where we were headed without having to ask. The first victim's home.

They always look sad, Sammy.

"Let's get this done." We pulled up to the house, adjusted our ties, and knocked.

"Mrs. Hoeston?" I asked, as the door swung open to reveal a wary, strained looking woman.

"May I help you?"

"I'm Agent Westbee. This is my partner, Agent Colhan. We're investigating your daughter's death." We were lucky that so far as looks went I had taken after Dad and Dean had taken after Mom. People didn't look at us and think brothers. We flashed the badges, identifying ourselves as FBI agents.

"Come in." Our disguises were usually pretty thin but the people we interviewed were so often beaten down, worn by their grief. Maybe they knew the legitimate authorities were just as baffled as they were by their loved one's death and they sensed that we could help.

"Did Sara have any new friends? They would've moved to the area about a month ago?"

"No, not that I was aware of. I thought she was mauled."

"She was, most likely. We're just exploring all options; given that there have been similar deaths to hers in the area lately."

"I would appreciate it if you would leave now." Dean opened his mouth to object. He wanted to get more information from her, find the werewolf. He knew just as well as I did that the sudden dismissal probably meant that she knew something.

"Thank you for your time ma'am. If you think of anything, especially anyone who may have been new in your daughter's life please let us know." I handed her a card with my contact info on it and led the reluctant Dean out the door, to the Impala. He slid into the driver's seat.

Screw the police, Sammy.

"She knew something, Sam."

"I know, and if we hadn't left she would've called the police."

"Because we've never been arrested before. We could have had this thing!"

"I'd like to not spend my spring break in jail." He gave me a look that clearly said I was being stupid.

"Yeah, well, what kind of newspaper doesn't mention victim's hearts getting ripped out?"

"A small town that doesn't want to scare its residents?"

"Yeah, well they should be scared. They have a werewolf walking around"

"They don't know that." Dean merely grunted, and drove back to the motel. He grabbed the stack of papers we had, featuring articles that highlighted the recent deaths. His brow furrowed ever deeper as he combed through them. I was confused, but assumed he had an idea. I'd let him figure it out. I flopped down on the bed and turned on the TV. We sat in silence for a long time. Just before the sun went down I got hungry.

"I'm gonna go grab some food. Want anything?"

"Yeah. Burger and pie."

"Right." I grinned at the rising moon, which wouldn't be full until two days from now. We had time to solve this despite Dean's desperation. I pulled up into the diner, and got out of the car. It was our typical fare, and I ordered to-go. They had pecan pie, Dean's favorite. He'd be happy about that. Our food came, and I grabbed the greasy food bag, and stacked the bag with pie on top of the drinks before heading back to the Impala. I heard a low growl coming from the dumpsters on the side of the diner. I sat the food on top of the car, and pulling the silver loaded gun from my jeans turned to face what I hoped was a stray dog. I moved very quietly, not wanting to alert anything that was there. As I rounded the corner I was taken aback by what I saw. Five werewolves standing in a circle growling at each other. Of everything I had been taught to be prepared for a well-organized werewolf pack was not one of them; they simply weren't supposed to exist. One caught my scent and turned to look at me. I did the only sensible thing- though I knew Dean would laugh at me later for it. I ran. I grabbed the food bag from the top and unlocked the door, belatedly realizing the drinks and the pie were still on the roof. I was in before the werewolves caught up to me though.

Dean was going to laugh at me, and then he was going to kill me for getting soda all over his car. It was going to happen. I pulled back up to the motel, sticking the gun, which had been tossed haphazardly in the passenger seat in my haste to get away, back into the waistband of my jeans. The adrenaline was still pumping. I opened the door, and Dean glanced up.

Pie is my favorite dessert, Sammy.

"Where's the pie?"

"In the parking lot of the diner."

"Dude." He was annoyed. He always was when it was pie.

"It was either me or the pie, man." He looked up at that.


"We were right. There's a pack of them. There were five. They got my scent."

"And you didn't shoot them?"

"Six bullets. Five werewolves. One me."

"Still could've saved the pie." I had forgotten this was my family. Someone almost died- eh, it happens; forget the food- you will be killed. It didn't matter. It felt good to be back on a challenging case. As much as I said I hated this life, I didn't. I liked saving people.

"Right, Dean. I was going to get mauled, just to make sure you got your pie."

"Well, we know what we're dealing with. Think we can just take 'em out separately?"

"Not likely. They looked like they were planning."

"They can't communicate when they're like that. "

"Well maybe they can. I mean we didn't think they moved in packs either."

"Who are they though?"

"Trying to figure it out." I tossed the burger at Dean, and sat down to eat my own.

"Got something. Sara went to school here for about a year."

"Yeah, we know that. Why does it matter?"

"Her mother didn't move here until three weeks ago."

"Oh. You think?"

"Makes sense."

"Why would she kill Sara though?"

"Maybe she didn't. Maybe it was someone else in the pack."

"Great. So we have a pack of werewolves, and one pissed off mama-wolf."


"Let's go." We went down to the house we had visited the previous day, and waited, knowing Mrs. Hoesten would return in due time. She was well organized, and not only knew what she was but how to organize others.

A/N: This was a really hard chapter to write, and I'm not overly pleased with it. I'd love some feedback on it.