Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoy my first chapter of The Wolf and The Team! Comment and let me know what you guys think!

The roar of the Impala was loud on the silent night. John Winchester glanced over at his oldest son who was sleeping in the passenger seat. It wasn't uncommon for Dean to be asleep during the day, after all they usually were fighting evil the night before, but it was starting to bother John. The oldest hunter had started to notice some weird things, well weirder than usual. Dean was a little more jumpy than normal, he was always sleeping during the day (or at least whenever he could sleep during the day), and John had woken up a couple nights ago to find Dean sneaking out of the Motel room. The old hunter got up swiftly to follow his son but when he opened the door Dean was already gone.

Things had been tough for both of the Winchesters, ever since Sam had left to be a big college lawyer boy. John had taken the news pretty hard, yelling at Sam telling him that if he walked out that door to never come back. Sam had walked out the door. John had drank through a whole liquor store the following days, he had gone through a "druken rage" phase and Dean put up with him. A smile touched John's face as he glanced over at his boy again, he was so proud of the man that Dean had become. Dean was only twenty one but he was already taking care of John like John was the son.

It was starting to get dark outside so John looked for some place to stay. He spotted a rundown Motel surrounded by a forest. The Impala glided into the parking lot with ease and parked in front of the front office. John got out and asked for a room, once the room was paid for he pulled the Impala up to room six and tapped his son's leg.

"Dean, wake up." John said a little forcefully.

Dean snapped up, ready for attack but calmed when he saw it was just his father. Dean surveyed their surroundings as he got out of the beloved car and grabbed his duffel bag from the back seat. He followed his father inside and tossed his bag on one of the beds, quickly following it and plopping himself face down. John muttered something about taking a shower first and Dean grunted to let his dad know he heard him. As soon as the bathroom door had shut Dean shot up and began pacing the small room. He needed to get out he needed to go. He had debated telling his dad about… his secret, but fear of rejection had pushed the thought deep into the back of his mind. His dad was a hunter and he was a… he didn't even want to think it in fear of the off chance that John had gotten mind reading powers and could hear his every thought. Oh great, now he was scared and paranoid.

Dean was forced to resort to sneaking out at night like he was some teenager, but it was the only way he could do it. He was surprised John hadn't said anything after he almost caught Dean a couple days ago but the old man had kept his mouth shut about the subject. Dean's eye caught the moon outside and the longing and the pure need grew stronger in his head. He needed to go! The sound of the shower shutting off caught his attention; alright he needed to calm down before John asked him what was wrong. That was a conversation he so didn't need to have. The bathroom door opened and John walked out in a pair of sweatpants, Dean grabbed a pair of sweatpants and made his way passed him, closing the door. Dean stared at himself in the mirror; his blood was pounding impossibly loud in his ears.

He needed to calm down he could go tonight while John was sleeping, he just needed to calm down right now. Dean stripped himself of his clothes and jumped into the shower, turning the hot water all the way up. The scalding liquid felt like tiny hands massaging away the kinks and knots in Dean's muscles; he couldn't help the little sigh that escaped his lips. He finally dragged himself out of the shower and dried off and threw on his sweatpants. He must have taken longer in the shower then he thought, when he came out of the bathroom the lights were all off and John was under the covers. The room was dead silent. He stood there in the doorway for a few moments before making his way to the door of the room. He slowly opened the door and stepped over the salt line his father had lain down. As soon as the door was closed again he took off for the forest, silently thanking his father for coming here.

Dean stretched out into the ground with a sigh. He began rubbing himself into the grass, rolling and scooting all over the clearing he had found. He missed the natural setting of a forest, the silence of it, the way the moon seemed to try extra hard to light it up. Dean stopped rolling and looked up at the big sphere in the sky, his tail started wagging. It was still a little weird for Dean, being a new werewolf was hard on the hunter. At first he hated it but after a month from his transformation he learned to accept himself. He wasn't like the werewolves that he hunted; he didn't lose his mind and kill people. No, when Dean changed he kept his brain and his control. And because he had his control he didn't have to change on full moons, he felt the pull and longing to but he knew that his change was optional. That was another thing; he could change whenever he felt like. When he first became a wolf he accidently shifted in the bathroom of a gas station. He nearly hyperventilated to death but eventually was able to change back.

Dean also didn't look like any of the other wolves; he was an actual wolf, only a lot bigger. His coat was a shiny dirty blonde; it matched his human hair perfectly. He came to the conclusion, with Bobby's help, that there were different kinds of wolves out there, the ones that they hunted being at the bottom of the wolf-food chain. It all depended on a person's personality when they are bitten to see what kind of wolf they turn into. Because Dean was so good-natured he turned into one of the upper class wolves. A noise suddenly caught his attention; Dean jumped to his feet and pricked his ears up. He could hear someone breathing to his left. He lowered himself to the ground and turned towards the person, his ears flattening against his head and his teeth bore in a feral growl.

The person stepped into the clearing and raised a gun. It took Dean a moment to realize who the person was but when he did he flattened himself to the ground and his growl turned to a whimper. John. His father was standing there staring at Dean as if he was some kind of monster, but Dean really couldn't blame him.

"I know that's you Dean," John snarled out.

Dean's ear picked up but quickly lowered again as he saw the hatred in his father's eyes.

"I should put you down right here and now!" The gun cocked and Dean backed up slowly with a whimper, "How many people have you killed?" John's eyes seemed to be shooting fire.

Dean shook his head ferociously; he stood up tall and began to shift back. His bones shrunk and cracked, his fur retreated back under his skin, his body was slowly taking on his human form. To not put himself at a disadvantage he stopped the transformation midway, he still had his wolf ears and the bottom half of his wolf body. It was a nifty trick he had picked up along the way; this way Dean could talk to his father and try to reason with him, but he could also run like a wolf if he needed to.

"Dad, please listen to me!" Dean pleaded with his father.

John flinched, "Don't call me that, you are not my son!"

Tears stung Dean's eyes, "I'm not like the others, I don't kill!"

"Why should I believe you?" John snapped, "You are a monster, you're evil. And as a hunter it's my job to kill evil."

The gun fired. Dean tried to move fast enough but the bullet planted itself into his left arm. Dean let out a yelp as red hot pain made its way up the limb. With one final look at his fath-… John he took off as fast as he could into the forest.

Dean's breath was labored as he pushed himself to keep going, he was sure he had lost John a couple of days ago but he refused to stop and rest for fear of the hunter catching up. Dean had to change all the way back to human to conserve his strength, the bullet was preventing his fast healing to do its job. He had been running through the forest for three days, not stopping for anything. He was pretty sure he was in New York but it was hard to tell for sure, the only thing he had seen in the past three days had been trees. Finally, Dean found a trace of civilization; a clearing that had a couple of benches and a path at the other side. Dean was about to make his way towards the path when the loss of blood finally hit him and he passed out on the ground.

So that's the first chapter! Please comment and let me know what you thought!