Creative Imperative

TITLE: Cry Wolf (Part Two)
SERIES: Cry Wolf can be considered a sequel to my SPN fic Family Values but it's not necessary to read that first.
RATING: Adults Only
FANDOM: The Sentinel/Supernatural Crossover
CATEGORY: Crossover, Horror...see story notes.
PAIRINGS: Jim/Blair, Dean/Sam, Dean/OFC

Previous Chapter: Part One

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Cry Wolf

Part Two

Panther Creek

"I'll take a bottle of bourbon as well, Pete." Blair offered his credit card. The jingle of the bell above the door attracted his attention and he turned around. Strangers were unusual in Panther Creek at this time of year and these two were striking. Two young men, one dark, the other blonde, neither of them exactly dressed for the northern climate. The taller of the two made for the magazine rack; the other came toward the counter to pay for their gas. It made Blair glance through the window, looking for their car. He saw it, black against the snow: a classic Chevy Impala. Very nice.

"Here you go, Mr Sandburg." Pete handed over Blair's credit card and his bourbon.

"Thanks." He turned to go but found the dark-haired stranger staring at him. It felt like a challenge of some kind. Blair returned the look calmly. "Can I help you with something?"

"You're Blair Sandburg?" The young man sounded like he didn't quite believe it.

Blair smiled, realising he’d misinterpreted him. "Yes," he answered simply.

"I thought I recognised you from your book jacket." The young man's smile was eager. "You must hear this all the time, but I've gotta tell you, I love your work."

"Thanks." Blair shifted the scotch to his left hand so he could shake hands with the stranger. "I'm glad to meet you, Mr...?"

"Winchester. Sam Winchester." He nodded to the other man. "That's my brother, Dean. A friend bought me Fear The Dawn for my birthday a couple of years ago. I must have read it a dozen times."

"Really?" Blair felt absurdly flattered. He was never quite sure how to behave in these situations; he thought of his fiction as the kind of thing you read on a plane, not the kind of thing that changes lives.

"God, yes," Sam said. "The vampiric serial killer as a reflection of the hero's inner torment, the secrets he was forced to keep... Do you mind me asking, was the killer based on Peter Kurten?"

With the question, Blair felt on safer ground. He'd answered that question half a dozen times in interviews and at book signings. He nodded. "The vampire part was, yes. Not the character so much. I researched a lot of serial killers for the book." What Blair didn't say was how much that first novel had been a working out of his own fears; old issues from his own close encounter with serial killer David Lash, back in Cascade. Those of his friends who knew what happened could tell how personal the novel was; strangers didn't need to know.

The other man, Dean, had finished paying for his gas. Blair heard him ask directions to Redwood Cabins.

"Why do you want to know?" Pete asked suspiciously.

"The tourist guide says they're open during the winter. Need a place to sleep, dude."

Blair interrupted to stop Pete from saying anything too offensive. "You're out of luck, man. They're closed just now."

Sam said, "That tears it. It's the only winter place in the guide."

"Yeah, we don't get many visitors in winter. The Cabins are a family business, Sam, and their daughter...died a couple of weeks ago. They don't want strangers around, man. It's a bad time for them."

Sam exchanged a glance with his brother. "I'm sorry to hear that. I don't suppose you can recommend some other place?"

"Not in winter," Pete growled. He seemed pleased about it.

Son of a bitch. "Are you staying in Panther Creek for long?" Blair asked. All of the local resorts were closed up for the winter. There were a few places in the Cascades open for the ski slopes but nowhere near Panther Creek. It just wasn't skiing country. People came to Panther Creek for the fishing, or to hike around the waterfalls; neither was a winter pastime.

Dean came forward. "The idea was to stay a couple of weeks. Maybe a little longer. We don't have firm plans."

"Well...you could stay at my place. At least until the Marsdens are ready to take in a guest or two."

"I don't know..." Dean began.

"Dean, it sounds like the best offer we're going to get."

"My place is Stonehaven Lodge," Blair said to Dean. "We're in the tourist guide, man, if that helps. My partner and I usually only take guests in summer, but we are licensed."

"Dean?"

Dean's eyes met Blair's appraisingly. "Why? If you only take summer guests?"

"My partner is away, working. The place gets lonely. And, frankly, the Marsdens are our neighbours. I'm thinking this does them a favour, too."

Dean shrugged. "Your call, Sammy."

"I say yes," Sam said, then, to Blair, "and thank you." He smiled at Blair, who grinned back.

"Okay. I'm heading home now, so you can follow me if you like."

They turned toward the door, but it was then that Pete, the jerk, chose to stick his nose in. "Ain't you gonna warn 'em?" he growled.

Sam frowned, but Dean was on it instantly. "Warn us about what?" he demanded.

Blair looked at Pete coldly. "Not everyone is a fucking bigot, Fridell." He turned back to the brothers, meeting Dean's eyes. "Pete means that my partner and I are gay. Is that a problem for you?"

Dean shrugged. "Unless I'm on the menu I don't see why I should care."

Blair looked at Sam, whose smile was just a little wider. He really was gorgeous. "No problem here," Sam confirmed.

Blair didn't look back at Pete, but it took an effort. "Cool," he grinned. "Let's go."

*****

"What the hell was that?" Dean demanded as they climbed into the Impala.

"What was what?" Sam asked, all innocent eyes and confusion.

Dean narrowed his eyes at him. "Little Sammy all star struck? Who is that guy anyway?"

Sam sighed. "Blair Sandburg. He's a writer. A good one."

"Sounded like it. You read vampire crap?"

"The novel we were talking about is a crime story, Dean. It's about a serial killer who believes he's a vampire."

"You gave him our real names." Dean revved up the Impala's engine. "How are we supposed to investigate this thing now? Or even pay for a room?" He watched Sandburg's truck pull out of the gas station and began to follow.

"Dean, I've got a credit card with my real name on it. It's not even fake. So I'll take care of the room, okay? As for the rest...I'm thinking maybe we should tell the truth for a change."

"What, are you nuts?"

"No, I'm serious. Dude, you heard the guy in the gas station - this is a small town. People will be suspicious if we try to pull a stunt."

"So you want to tell everyone we're hunting a werewolf? 'Cause, dude, that's messed up."

"No, I want to tell people we're interested in these deaths. Listen..."

*****

Dean drove, following Blair's 4x4 along the uneven country roads. The gates to Stonehaven Lodge were tall, wrought iron gates edged by high stone pillars. There was a carving of a wolf on the left-hand pillar. Sam studied it as they went by and was impressed: the carving was very lifelike. He didn't see if the other pillar had a matching decoration. Dean followed Blair down a short driveway and around to the side of the house. At the side there was a garage big enough for four cars which opened at their approach - Sam assumed Blair had a remote control.

"Nice," Dean commented with a grin. "Good to have the car undercover in this weather."

Sam nodded agreement.

There was a Hummer parked on the far side of the garage: a big, all-terrain vehicle. Blair's more compact 4x4 looked tiny beside it. The garage was moe than big enough for both vehicles, leaving a good space for the Impala.

Dean parked the car and Sam opened the door to get out. He saw the rack of guns on the wall ahead of the car. He leaned on the car door, gazing at the collection. "Dude," he said quietly, drawing his brother's attention to the glass-fronted case.

"Nice," Dean responded, then, to Blair, "You guys hunters?"

"My partner is, sort of. The guns are his."

"Is it safe to keep them in here?" Glass was easy to break...

Blair grinned. "It's secure, and we don't keep the ammo with the guns. I think they're safe enough. This way." He unlocked a connecting door to the house and waited while Sam got their bags out of the Impala's trunk.

The house was modern-rustic in style: bare brick walls with wooden beams and hardwood flooring. Blair led them through several rooms into a large kitchen. The kitchen was dominated by a long pine dining table, where Blair laid down the shopping bags he was carrying.

Blair nodded toward a half-open door. "My study, writing room, whatever you want to call it is through there. If you can't find me any time, that's probably where I am. Feel free to knock if you need me." He led the way across the room toward the far door. "Your room rental includes breakfast and I can feed you the other two meals a day if you want, and add it to your room cost."

"What time is breakfast?" Dean asked.

"I set up the coffee percolator before I go to bed, so if you're an early riser you can help yourself whenever you're ready. Food is any time after seven thirty, but don't feel like you have to get up. I'll make your breakfast at lunchtime if it suits you."

Sam saw the blissful smile on his brother's face. "I know what you're thinking, you dick," he teased.

Blair grinned at them both, opening a door to reveal another door right behind it. "Here you go." He opened the second door. "This part of the house is only for guests. You'll have the wing to yourselves, so pick whichever room you like. The bathroom is over there, and there's a living room through the glass doors if you want to watch TV." He stood back for the brothers to pass him then closed the door behind them. "If you want privacy for any reason, or just want me to stay out of your way, you can latch the inner door here. I won't come in if it's on the latch. But feel free to join me in the main house if you want company."

"Why the double doors?" Sam asked curiously.

"It's for soundproofing. My partner has really sensitive hearing, and sometimes we have guests with kids." He shrugged with a quick smile. "So. Does the place suit you?"

Sam glanced at Dean before answering, "It looks great. How much extra for three meals a day?"

"Ten bucks. But...if you'd be willing to give me a hand around the place while my partner's away, I'll feed you for free."

It sounded a little ominous, Sam thought. "What kind of help?"

"Uh...it's the stables, man. We've got three horses and they need care: fresh hay, cleaning out, you know? The thing is, I can do it if I've got to, but I've got this phobia. You'd really be helping me out, man."

Sam frowned. Why would someone scared of horses keep them? He glanced at Dean. "Doesn't sound too hard."

Dean shrugged. "Free food, dude. I'm in."

"Me too," Sam agreed.

"Great!" Blair grinned. He smiled a lot, Sam noticed. "I'll leave you to settle in, then. Come and find me when you feel hungry and we can take care of the paperwork before we eat."

*****

Blair showed them the stables and it wasn't nearly as bad as Sam feared. There were three horses and all three seemed well cared for. All the equipment they needed was neatly laid out in a spare stall. The only work needed was exactly what Blair told them: the stalls needed a sweep and a hose-down - smelly work but not difficult - and the feed and water needed renewing.

Though neither of the brothers were country boys, they spent a couple of summers on a ranch when they were kids: their dad's hunting was almost a constant by then and the ranch - owned by a fellow hunter - was his idea of a safe place to leave his sons while he went places and killed things. They'd earned pocket money currying horses and mucking out stables. So this was easy work.

Blair stayed outside the stable door, pointing out the things they might need from what he appeared to think was a safe distance. Then he left before Sam led the first horse out of her stall. Sam noticed his phobia seemed genuine and he wondered how someone so unwilling to come close to them could take care of the horses when he was alone here. And why on earth keep horses anyway?

Earning their keep didn't take long, and after finishing that job, they took a walk. Sam wanted to walk into town, maybe talk to some people. Dean wanted to look for the place where the girl he'd read about was killed. It was nearly four weeks ago; there wouldn't be anything left to see, but they went looking.

As they walked up the snow-covered track, with the stone wall of the farm on one side and the thick woodland on the other, Sam got the weirdest feeling of deja-vu. He had been here before...yet he knew he had never been here. It was a nagging feeling he couldn't place.

"Perfect hunting ground for a werewolf," Dean commented. He was looking into the dark woods.

Sam nodded. "Anyone on this path is a sitting duck." Then he stopped. "Dude, this is it."

"Huh?"

"This is where she died." He looked back the way they'd come.

...Walking through woodland...a stone wall on his left...his boots churning up the virgin snow...a girl's voice singing...

"Dean, she came up the track around midnight. She was singing to herself. She came to about here...and she stopped for some reason. Then she died."

"How the fuck...? Dude, you're freaking me out here!"

"I dreamed it. A few nights ago."

"And you didn't tell me? Sam, crap like this happens, you tell me."

"I thought it was just a dream. It didn't feel like...like my dreams about Jessica, or Max's family."

Dean smacked him on the shoulder. "Dude, three o'clock."

Sam looked. There was a woman coming down the track, a little brown terrier yapping around her feet.

"Come to daddy," Dean said, grinning.

"Dude, keep your mind on the job."

"I am. We need to talk to some people. She's people. Man, is she!"

Great. Sam would have groused about it, but it was pointless. Once Dean started thinking with his dick all bets were off. "Fine. Go get her," Sam told him. He let Dean walk on ahead.

Dean was right: they did need to talk to some people. He envied the ease with which Dean could do this. Maybe he rarely made a deep connection with people but he did know how to get girls talking.

The woman looked about twenty; younger than both of them. Her pale face was fine-boned and delicate, with a pointed chin and large eyes. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold. Her most striking feature was her hair: a mass of auburn curls tied loosely at the neck so her hair tumbled down her back. It was hard to see what kind of a figure she had under the heavy winter clothing but she was taller than Dean and from the delicate features Sam was betting she was supermodel-thin. She wasn't Dean's usual type, but Sam saw her smile as Dean walked her way and knew his brother was turning on the charm.

Her dog ran up to Dean, sniffed around his ankles and ran away yapping. Sam caught up with them in time to hear:

"...All alone. I heard someone died around here." Dean turned as Sam reached them, saying, "That's my brother, Sam. He's harmless."

"Unlike you," Sam retorted with a grin.

The woman smiled. "Hi, Sam, I'm Erin." To Dean she said, "Everyone knows about Jean. It was horrible...but I'm not going to spend my life scared of shadows. Macha will warn me if there's anything out there." She moved forward, as if to continue down the track. Perhaps she intended to avoid further conversation by walking the way they had come from, but Dean fell into step beside her and she didn't object.

"Did you know her?" Dean asked, his voice gentle.

"Everyone knows everyone in Panther Creek," she answered. "But I don't know you guys. Are you moving in somewhere around here?"

"No, we're just taking a holiday," Dean told her.

"A little early in the season, isn't it?"

"Thought we'd beat the rush. We're staying at Stonehaven Lodge."

Erin's cheerful smile faded. "Oh, the Ellison place."

Sam noticed the change in her and remembered the gas station owner. "Don't you like them?" he asked.

Erin hesitated, then looked up at Sam. Some of his thoughts must have shown on his face because she said hurriedly, "Oh, no, it's not what you think! I know some people 'round here don't approve but... I was thinking of Jean. She hated passing their gate. The wolf freaked her out, you know?"

"The wolf?" Dean asked, a little too sharply.

But Sam remembered the carved and painted wolf on the gate post.

"On the gate," Erin explained. "I guess it seems...bad taste."

Her opinion confused Sam. Lots of people had stone animals guarding their gates...didn't they? Or perhaps he was just too accustomed to suburbia. They could see the gate ahead of them now.

Dean asked Erin if there was a good place to go out in the evenings.

She thought about it. "There's not much night life in town. Most of the young people like Beanies."

"Beanies?" Sam repeated with a laugh.

"The full name is The Coffee Bean but no one 'round here calls it that. It's at the end of the main street, past the police station. Coffee shop by day, bar and music after six. If you come after dark you won't miss it: there's loads of little lanterns along the roof, like Christmas lights."

Dean smiled at her. "Will I see you there?"

Erin returned his smile and again Sam wondered again how Dean did it. "Not tonight," she answered. "Maybe tomorrow. It depends."

Tomorrow night was the night before the full moon. They would be hunting. Sam tried to catch Dean's eye but Dean was in full charm-mode and not paying any attention to Sam.

"Depends on what?" he asked.

Erin's smile was brilliant. "On whether I decide I'm interested in an affair with a handsome stranger." She laughed and took off down the track, her little terrier running at her heels.

Sam wanted to make some appropriate comment, but Dean's shit-eating grin said it all. Score! Damn him.

"Dude, you do know you're not gonna make that date, don't you?"

"Are you kidding me? With that waiting for me? Why not?"

"Because there's a werewolf that's gonna be out there. Hungry."

Dean's eyes were still on the girl, her figure getting smaller in the distance. "Aw, come on, Sammy. We can take one night off."

Sam stared at him, because that really wasn’t like Dean at all. Was Dean as tired of all the hunting as Sam was? It seemed unlikely, but...

Dean grinned, but it seemed false. "Dude, I'm kidding. We'll run into her another time."

Part Three