The Pack


Age Rating:

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own supernatural, but I really wish I could own Sam, Dean and Daddy… I would have so much fun!


One werewolf is a problem and entire pack is much larger issue

Chapter One

Dean was cruising down a quiet little two lane road towards Littlefield, Michigan. He figured that at his current speed of around eighty five miles an hour it should only take them a few more hours to reach their destination. Sam was sleeping in the passenger seat, arms crossed and his chin resting on his chest. AC/DC's Highway to Hell blaring from the radio.

There had been several suspicions deaths and missing persons in Littlefield that had attracted Sam's attention on his last internet search. They'd been on the road for over sixteen hours already, splitting the driving between them. The sun was setting in front of him making it that much more difficult to see the road. His dark shades helped, but there was still a hell of a glare.

Dean glanced down at the gages, gas was getting low, he should have stopped at the last station he'd passed but he didn't want to disturb Sam. He was still having a tough time sleeping, and needed all the sleep he could get. There was no telling how long it would be before they came to another gas station though. They seemed to be few and far between on this road. He brought his attention back to the road just in time to see a very large deer jump out of the brush and stop in front of him smack in the middle of his lane.

"Shit!" He yelled and slammed on the breaks. The car started fishtailing and he struggled to keep control over it and not slam his baby into the crazy animal.

Sam woke with a start just in time to see the dashboard smash into his face. He bounced back half onto the seat, half on the floorboard with an unsuppressed groan. His hands flew to his face.

The Impala stopped within inches of the deer, which glared at the car and leapt back the way it had come.

Grim faced, Dean turned to his younger brother who had both his hands covering his face. "Sammy, are you okay?" he asked. When he got no reply he put the car in park and reached over to pull Sam's hands from his face, but his brother was being uncooperative. Dean started to get concerned when he saw blood seeping from under his hands. "Damn it, Sammy! Hang on." He reached back and dug through his pack for a towel.

Meanwhile, Sam with his face still coved by his hands struggled back into a sitting position on the seat of the car and leaned his head back so it rested on the back of the seat. He lifted his hand briefly from his face, but when he did blood flowed freely from his nose. He mumbled something that Dean had trouble understanding over the blaring music of the radio.

"Sammy let me see how bad it is." Dean said as he cut the radio off. "And don't you dare say you're fine. You're bleeding all over my car!"

Sam moved his hands so Dean could see the damage. "It's Sam," he told his brother, then asked, "What happened?"

Dean felt relief at his brother's words. "Damn deer jumped in front of the car and refused to move." Dean told him as he checked Sam's face. "I don't think the nose is broken, but it's bleeding pretty good. You have a cut above your left eye and you're going to have a mean looking shiner, but you'll live." He told his brother. "You need to work on your reflexes a bit there Sammy boy."

"Dude, I was asleep!" Sam said exasperated.

"Excuses, excuses," Dean said as he handed the towel to Sam and turned back to the steering wheel. He was about to put the car back into drive when his phone started to ring from somewhere down on the floorboard. He reached down to try and find it. He'd left it on the seat, but it must have slid off when he hit the breaks.

Sam flipped his visor down and looked at his face in the mirror attached to it. He noticed a truck coming up behind them moving pretty fast. "Dean, you may want to move to the side of the road first. The semi behind us might not like us being stopped in his lane."

Dean looked in the rear view mirror, put the car in drive and pulled to the side of the road just in time for the truck to go roaring past blowing its horn. By the time Dean found the phone it had quit ringing. He flipped it open and read the message that flashed on the screen. "Well that's different." He told Sam.

Sam, who had wiped the blood from his face, and now, was holding the towel to his nose to try and stem the flow of blood asked, "What is?"

"It's from dad."

That got Sam's immediate attention. He swung his head to look at his brother. Then he remembered, by way of the pain in his head, that he had just smashed his face on the dashboard. "What's it say?"

"It's coordinates 45.43 - 87.78"

"What's different about that? He's sent us coordinates before."

"It also says Billie Smith, ASAP."

"Well, that's more information than he normally gives us." Sam said leaning back in the seat and resting his head on the back of the seat again. He closed his eyes trying to wish the pain away. "Who's Billie Smith?"

"I never heard of him." Dean said. Then he reached over and pulled the map out of the glove box. After examining the map for several minutes Dean looked at Sam and said, "You are not going to believe this."

Sam lifted his head and looked at his brother. "What, where is it?"

"Littlefield Michigan," Dean told him.


"You know Sam, sometimes, you scare me. We had what, four options for our next gig? Why did you choose this one?" He asked.

"I don't know. It just felt right." He said leaning his head back again and closing his eyes.

Dean put the car in gear and pulled back onto the road. "We'll stop at the next gas station I need to fill her up and you are going to need some ice for that face." When Sam didn't reply Dean told him, "Sam, don't you fall asleep on me again. I need you awake for a while."

"Why?" Sam asked knowing full well why his brother didn't want him to go to sleep. Truth be told he didn't think he could go back to sleep anyway, not with his head throbbing the way it was.

"We're about two hours away from Littlefield. I need you to go through dad's journal and see if you can find anything." Dean wasn't about to tell him the real reason was because Sam had taken a very nasty knock to the head. Dean had taken time to look at Sam's eyes. His left eye was slightly dilated. He wanted Sam to wait a few hours before going to sleep, no point in taking chances.

"I've already done that Dean. We need more information before we can pin down exactly what we're up against." Sam took the towel from his nose checking to see if the bleeding had stopped. It had, but the towel was now soaked in blood.

"We have more information. We have a name. Billie Smith. See if you can find him in the journal." Dean said.

Sam put the towel down, reached back and grabbed the journal from the duffle and started leafing through it. "So you think Billie Smith may be someone dad knows?"

"It's possible, but I don't recognize the name."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and reached up to massage his temples being careful to keep away from the damaged area of his face. "Yeah, but Dean, for all we know this is just someone who dad read about in a report somewhere."

"Come on Sammy you're the college boy here, I shouldn't have to tell you this." Dean said. Then when Sam didn't reply, but continued to rub his temples Dean relented and told him, "When has dad ever given us more than just coordinates?"

"Yeah, I know," Sam said and continued checking the journal.

Dean turned the music on again, but at a lower volume so it wouldn't hurt Sam's head. Well, at least the sun wasn't in his eyes anymore. It had set below the horizon and was no longer causing a problem.

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