Creative Imperative

TITLE: Cry Wolf (Part Ten)
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 Chapters: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine

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Cry Wolf

Part Ten

"It's alright," Jim said to Sam. "I've got him." He gently lifted Blair from Sam's arms. "Thanks for helping him," he added.

Sam nodded an acknowledgement. He seemed about to say something but apparently thought better of it; he stayed silent. Jim watched Sam brush his hair back out of his eyes and noticed that his hand was cut and bruised. They were small cuts, recently closed. Jim didn't ask because his arms were full of Blair and because it didn't take a genius to figure out what Sam was doing to get himself cut up. Jim hoped the kid's hands were the worst of it but he had more important things to worry about.

The smell of Blair's blood was choking Jim. He had lost so much of it. Blood soaked into Blair's shirt and there was so much that Jim couldn't see his wound - or wounds - beneath the blood and cloth. He knew it was bad. Blair's head rested on Jim's shoulder, his breath warm on Jim's neck. Jim treasured that warmth as proof that Blair was still alive.

"Chief? You still with me?"

Blair's voice was very quiet, his words slurred. "'M fine, Jim. You worry too much."

Dean was at the mouth of the tunnel. He looked back, meeting Jim's eyes. "Dude, we need to get out of here." The offer of help was unspoken, but clear.

Jim said, "Go ahead. I've got Blair."

Dean nodded and ducked into the tunnel.

*****

"Hold still, dude. This is gonna hurt." Sam dipped the cloth in the antiseptic liquid Jim had given him. He squeezed off the excess liquid and began to clean the wound in Dean's arm. He felt Dean instinctively flinch away from the pain, just as he had when Sam cut him, but he didn't complain. As he cleaned the dried blood away from the wound, Sam saw that it was still seeping blood a little. He was afraid he'd cut too deeply and the wound would need stitches.

Finally, Sam dropped the cloth into the bowl. The antiseptic was tinged pink with Dean's blood. He covered the cut with an absorbent dressing and bandaged it tightly. As he tied the bandage into place, he looked up, meeting Dean's eyes.

"Thanks," Dean said, rolling his sleeve down. He looked uncomfortable. "Uh...Sam...the other night...when we..."

"Fucked like rabbits?" Sam suggested, grinning to hide his surprise that Dean had raised the subject. Dean, who would rather face a gang of rampaging zombies than talk about his feelings.

"Yeah."

"What about it?"

"Well...I think you were right. I mean, Erin...she did something to me...maybe both of us...that made us..."

Sam nodded. He was very tempted to stay quiet and make Dean finish that sentence, but he took pity on his brother. "Yeah, I know. Let's hear it for psychic Viagra, huh?"

"I'm just saying...it wasn't us, Sam." Dean stood, walking away from Sam to lean against their bedroom window.

That was going nowhere Sam wanted to go. He shook his head, smiling. "I don't know, Dean. I remember a few nights..."

"Not in the past four years," Dean interrupted.

It was true, but what was Dean saying? Did he not want...?

There was a quiet knock on the door and Sam swallowed the protest he was about to make. "Yeah?" he called.

Jim opened the door. "I've got Blair settled in bed. Are you ready to talk about those fires?"

Sam was about to ask for a few more minutes alone with Dean, but Dean had other ideas. He stood, walking toward Jim. "Sounds good." He picked up the journal which was lying on the end of the bed. "Sam, you coming?"

*****

Dean sat on the leather couch in the study with their father's journal in his hands. The journal was old, leather-bound and packed with loose pages. John Winchester's most precious possession...Dean's now. He held it out to Jim. "Our mom died in November 1983. It was in Lawrence, Kansas. The fire was the same as the case you just described." He looked across the room to Sam, who was sitting at Blair's desk. Jim hadn't asked Sam about Jessica...at least not yet. "I don't remember much," Dean added. "I was only four years old. But Dad's version of what happened is in his journal."

Jim took the journal from Dean's hands. "Thanks for letting me see this," he said. He opened the journal, starting from the beginning. Inside the front jacket were John's medals. Jim hesitated, looking at them. "Vietnam," he said, looking down at Dean. "Your dad's a marine?"

Dean nodded. "He was."

"I missed 'Nam, but I saw a lot of action in South America when I was in the army."

"I thought you were a cop?" Sam questioned.

"Army ranger, until '91. Cascade PD after that. I was with the major crimes division until...well, until Blair got bitten and living in the city became a bad idea."

Dean picked up the story. "After Mom died, Dad started looking for the thing that killed her. We never found any trace of it until recently..." Again, he glanced at Sam and didn't mention Jessica. He didn't need to. Jim understood. "We know about one other woman the Demon killed about twenty years ago..."

"Who?" Jim interrupted. "And where?" He moved to his desk and picked up a pen.

"I, uh, we never did get her name. The family name was Miller. Saginaw, Michigan." Dean watched Jim make a note of it. "That's about all we know. Dad took off at the end of October, when we think he picked up the Demon's trail."

"That would have been after the fire in New Jersey," Jim said. "How is he tracking it, Dean? Just following these fires?"

Dean shook his head. "He hasn't told me a damn thing. He's been out of contact for months, dude. One phone call, a couple of text messages...enough I know he's still alive and on its trail."

"You don't know much," Jim commented.

Sam said, "I know it killed someone I loved. I know I want to find it and send it back to hell."

Jim turned to him. "I'm sorry, Sam." He sounded like he meant it. "I do think like a cop. The evidence trail is everything." Jim reached into the desk and pulled out a laptop. He opened it up as he spoke. "Speaking of evidence...this is everything I collected on the fires this year. The earliest one I found was in Arizona, then New Jersey, Palo Alto, California which you know about, then Maine and Ohio. There are also other unexplained fires I found that might be connected."

Dean stood, walking over to get a closer look at the laptop. "That's five fires so far." Five, including Jessica. Four families going through god-knows-what hell. Sam walked toward them and the expression on his face was a mirror of Dean's thoughts. This wasn't just about revenge. Saving people, hunting things...the family business. Someone had to stop this thing.

"Now," Jim went on, opening up a file on the computer, "as my work is consultancy, I'm supposed to wipe this computer after every job. I haven't gotten around to doing that yet, but these are still confidential police files." He turned his back on the laptop and looked at Dean. "You understand why I can't show you this, don't you?"

"Yeah, I get it."

"Good. I...er...I'm going to check on Blair. I'm sure I can trust you both not to pry into things you shouldn't."

Dean got the message. He grinned. "Yes, sir."

Jim looked at Sam, then. "Sam, if you're willing I would like to hear your version of what happened in Palo Alto."

Sam nodded. "Yeah...I guess you know most of what I told the cops was a lie."

"Later, then?"

"Okay."

Jim left them alone with the laptop. Sam sat down at the computer before Jim was even out of the door. He started skimming through the files. "You know," he said to Dean, who was dragging a chair over to the desk, "we should get a copy of this stuff to Dad."

"How? He never answers his voicemail."

"I think he would for this."

Dean nodded. "He might, but he's avoiding us for a reason, Sam. We'll have to try something else. A mail drop maybe. Post office box?"

"Works for me," Sam agreed. He was looking at a picture on the computer screen. The picture had been taken in a hospital and showed a family smiling into the camera: a man with his arm around his wife, who held a newborn baby in her arms and, on the other side of her, a three or four year old girl cuddling against her mom's side. Dean, looking at the photograph, knew that this family had been shattered the same way his had been so long ago.

"Dean, we've got to get this thing," Sam said. "We've got to."

"We will, Sam."

*****

Jim hoped Blair would be sleeping, but when he quietly opened their bedroom door he found Blair propped up on pillows, reading. At least he'd stayed in bed. Jim climbed onto the bed to lie beside his partner, and kissed him briefly. "Hey, Chief."

"Hi, Jim."

"How are you feeling?"

Blair managed a weak smile. "Like someone tried to rip my heart out of my chest." Blair laid the book down. "Jim, I'll be fine. You know I heal."

"I know, but it's full moon again tonight. Are you going to be healed enough for that?"

Blair's smile vanished. "I don't think I'll be up to hunting," he admitted.

Jim nodded grimly. "That's a problem."

Blair Changed only when he had to: the three nights of the full moon. Werewolves could Change at other times, and those who did learned greater control of their wolf form. But there were consequences to spending more time as a wolf, and Blair valued his humanity too much to start Changing voluntarily. The price he paid was control: he had no choice but to Change on those three nights, and when he did Change, he needed to kill. He could channel that need enough to kill animals, not people, but he had to hunt.

"I'll be okay, man," Blair said uncertainly.

Jim drew Blair into his arms. "Let's not take any chances, Chief."

Blair nodded against his shoulder. "No chances," he agreed. "Last night was stupid. Dangerous."

"You didn't hurt anyone, Blair."

"If you'd been just five seconds later, Jim, Dean could be dead now. Or worse, he could be in a hospital and I'd be advising Sam how to survive his first full moon."

Jim held him close. "Do you really think this is worse than death?"

Blair drew away to look into Jim's eyes. "For me, man, no. It's hard, but I'm happy. You know I am. But for Dean...he's already a predator, man. Add a wolf's instincts to what he already is and...and Sam is the one who would have to end it. No, Jim. No more risks."

Jim hesitated, not sure if he should say anything more. But a change of subject seemed called for, so he said, "Chief, Dean and Sam...last night..."

"I know." Blair smiled, an odd, secret smile. "It freaks you out, doesn't it?"

"That's putting it mildly. I suspected something before but I thought...I had to be imagining it." He remembered Sam kissing Dean in front of him. There had been no hesitation in Sam, no shame. But they were brothers! It just wasn't...natural.

As always, Blair seemed to read his thoughts. "Sam told me a little about the way they grew up, Jim. Always on the road, raised as warriors by their father. It sounds like the only stability they had was each other."

"Are you seriously telling me it doesn't bother you?"

Blair snuggled closer to him. "Truthfully, yeah, it does. But it's none of our business, Jim."

"They're breaking the law."

"In lots of ways, I'm sure. Jim, incest is illegal for good reasons and for some bad ones. It's often a euphemism for child abuse and it's an easy way to prosecute those cases. We both know that. But Sam and Dean are consenting adults."

"I don't know, Chief. Sam looked pretty beaten up."

"And you've never left bruises on me after a night of rough sex."

Blair had a point. Jim shrugged, but this was just too weird. How young had Sam been when his brother started banging him? What kind of a father would let that happen? "I know, Chief, but this is just..."

Blair sighed. "Jim, if you really think it's non-consensual, then find out for sure. They can't stop you listening in if you want to. But if you're wrong, then...well, you know the old saying about glass houses?"

Jim frowned. "Yeah. What's your point?"

"That the guy you're sleeping with isn't even human. Technically."

*****

Jim balanced the tray against his chest with one hand, reaching to open the door of the guest wing with the other. He found the inner door closed and was about to knock when Dean opened the door for him.

"Hey, dude. How's Blair?"

"He's going to be okay," Jim answered, "but...here." He offered the tray to Dean. "I brought your supper."

"Thanks, but..."

"Jim interrupted, "Dean, there's a problem with Blair. Tonight is the third night of the full moon. He has to Change, but he's still hurt. He won't be fit to hunt."

Jim saw several thoughts flit across Dean's expression before he said, "What can we do?"

"Nothing. It's just...look, I know you and Sam can take care of yourselves but I don't want him shot again. I'll keep him on the property but I need to know you two will stay out of the way. Stay in this wing, no matter what you hear tonight."

Dean almost dropped the tray. "Dude, you're gonna lock yourself in with a hungry werewolf? Are you nuts?"

It was a reasonable question. "Blair won't hurt me. But you won't be safe. Please, Dean. It's just tonight."

Dean looked at him for a long moment then nodded. "Okay. We'll lock ourselves in."

Jim knew that went against all of Dean's instincts and he appreciated his agreement. "Thanks," he said. "Enjoy your supper."

*****

They kept the chains in the haybarn Blair usually used to Change. In their first months in Panther Creek, when they didn't know any other way to deal with Blair's Changes, he had been chained up in here every full moon.

Blair still looked pale and sick from the blood loss. He should be in a hospital, but under the circumstances that was impossible. Blair sat down on the chest while Jim prepared the chain.

"You know," Blair said, as Jim pulled on the chain, testing its strength, "on a different night, this could be kinda fun."

It was a weak joke.

Jim ran the chain through his hands. "You want to try chains, baby, I'd rather chain you to a nice warm bed than a cold stone floor." His hands reached the collar. "Okay, we're ready." He looked toward the door, but couldn't see the moon.

Blair couldn't see it, but he felt it. He stood and undressed and Jim didn't find it sexy at all. When Blair was naked, Jim fastened the collar around his neck. He hated doing this.

Blair reached up and touched Jim's hand as he fastened the collar. "It's okay, man," he said quietly.

"I know. I just..."

"Yeah."

"I'll...er...I'll come back after you Change."

"Thanks."

Jim kissed Blair, holding his face with both hands and kissing him deeply. He was just getting into it when he felt Blair flinch away from him.

Blair stepped back, the chain clanking. "Leave, Jim. Go now." He fell to his knees as the Change began.

*****

Sam heard the wolf howl and turned away from the window. "God...that's horrible," he said. How could Jim bear it, month after month, listening to someone he loved in such pain?

Dean didn't answer him and Sam looked for his brother. Then he heard the shower running.

He stared at the closed bathroom door. What the hell was going on with Dean? He'd been fine when they talked with Jim but he'd been like a bear with a sore head ever since. Maybe he was just tired. None of them had slept much and Dean had lost a lot of blood binding Erin. Or maybe it was embarrassment. It wasn't like Dean to walk - or in this case run - into the arms of the very thing they were hunting.

And then there was whatever he'd been trying to say this morning when Jim interrupted them. Erin...she did something to me...maybe both of us...I'm just saying...it wasn't us, Sam.

Sam pondered what to do for a moment. He wanted to go to Dean, get under the shower with him, kiss and caress his bad mood away. But if Sam did that, he knew he wouldn't be able to close that door again. Sam wondered, not for the first time, how Jess would have reacted if he confessed this part of his past. He'd told her some of it: that he'd had a boyfriend before he left for college but of course he'd never let her suspect it was his brother. Jess was liberal and thought of herself as open-minded, but any normal person would freak out over this. It was dumb to wonder about it, really. He knew.

But Jess was gone. Right now, all he had was Dean and Sam found he was missing more and more their teenage intimacy. He made up his mind and headed toward the bathroom door.

By then Dean had finished his shower and he walked out of the bathroom, still dripping wet with a towel around his waist. He stopped short when he saw Sam. There was an odd expression on his face; something Sam couldn't read. He walked past Sam without a word.

Huh. That was weird. Sam followed Dean into their bedroom.

"Dean?"

Dean had his back to Sam. He didn't turn around.

Sam, knowing it was the wrong thing to say before he said it, asked, "Dude, do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?" Fury sparked in Dean's eyes as he spun around to face Sam. "Talk about what? About how I didn't listed to you and that bitch nearly killed me? About how a fucking werewolf saved my life? About how I raped you last night? Which one did you want to talk about, Sam?"

Sam heard what Dean said, heard the raw emotion in his voice, but it didn't make sense. "Whoa. Dude, what the hell are you talking about? You didn't..."

"Go away, Sam." Dean sat on the bed and started to pull his pants on over wet skin.

"No," Sam answered firmly. He walked around the bed. He considered sitting down beside Dean but this seemed to need something more. Sam knelt on the floor in front of Dean, looking up at him. "Dean, you didn't rape me. Not even close."

"Don't."

"Look at me, Dean." Sam waited for Dean to obey. "It was rough sex, I know, but..."

"You were right, Sam. You said she did something to us, or to me. Somehow she made us..."

"Dean, it doesn't matter what Erin did. Newsflash, dude. I had fun the other night. So did you." He ran a hand up Dean's leg. "I can't blame her for what I'm feeling now. I'd like...to have more fun like that with you."

Sam saw a growing bulge under Dean's towel.

Dean reached down to him. "Sammy..."

Sam grinned, holding up a hand in an abrupt "stop" gesture. "No chick-flick moments," he said gleefully.

Dean looked surprised for a moment, then he grinned. "Sam. Take your clothes off. I'm gonna kill you slowly."

*****

It was a bad night for Blair.

The wounds on his human body were still present in wolf form, albeit hidden beneath his fur. A wounded wolf, a wolf in pain, is a dangerous creature. Add to that the werewolf's need to hunt after Changing, and Jim was worried. He believed he was in no danger from Blair but he also knew that the wolf was hurting, scared and angry to find itself chained up.

Jim brought Blair fresh meat after he Changed. It helped the wolf's hunger but not his need to kill. Jim stayed with him, but though he wanted to get close to the wolf, to help him, he didn't take the risk. He wasn't certain that Blair wouldn't bite him: he wouldn't kill Jim, but in this state he might see a bite as a friendly warning.

Blair devoured the meat Jim gave him, and for those few moments he was calm. Once the meat was gone, he went back to struggling against the collar and chain. He snarled and pulled and bit at the metal. He turned angry eyes to Jim, barking a demand for release.

When he got tired of the struggle, Blair started worrying at his wounds, biting the damaged skin. It was then that Jim intervened. If a dog was wounded, a vet would fit it with one of those plastic cone-shaped collars, to stop it doing just what Blair was doing. But Blair was no dog. There was an intelligent man in there.

Jim knelt beside him, stroking his head, trying to draw his attention away from the wounds. "Come on, Blair. You don't want to hurt yourself." He tried being gentle, and when that didn't work he grabbed on to the wolf's rough fur and pulled his head up. "No, Blair. You're hurting yourself." It worked for a while, but only for a while.

It was a bad night for both of them.

Around three in the morning, Blair finally exhausted himself. Jim had been sitting on a hay bale. When Blair whined and crawled toward him, Jim slid down to the floor. Blair curled up beside him, laid his head on Jim's thigh and closed his eyes. Jim stroked his neck, savouring the rough warmth beneath his fingers as the wolf's breathing steadied in sleep.

With Blair's furry head in his lap, Jim could relax. He even managed a little sleep, but only a little. Blair's Change woke him.

In all those werewolf movies they show the man Changing into a wolf as a long, painful process, yet somehow when the guy in the movie Changes back, it's never like that. He wakes up naked in the woods, human again, as if he could Change back in his dreams. The reality was nothing like that.

Blair's whine of pain woke Jim and at once he felt the first tremors of Change in the fur and muscle beneath his hand. He stroked the wolf's flank, murmuring a reassurance, though he knew that nothing could make this easier. His presence might help, so he kept stroking Blair's fur, speaking to him softly.

There was no howl, just that awful whimpering and Blair looked up at him, wolf eyes pleading, but for what? His fur split open beneath Jim's hand, flesh and muscle tearing. Jim jerked his hand away, instinctively expecting blood, but there was no bleeding. He saw the wolf's limbs lengthen and fill out, the frantically scrabbling paws morphing into hands and fingers. The canine whimpering became a human sob.

Staying there, feeling and watching Blair Change took every ounce of courage Jim possessed. He always knew when Blair Changed, but he was never in the room. Never went through it with him like this. Maybe he should.

Finally, Blair lay naked and weak on his side in the hay, his head still in Jim's lap. There were tears on his cheeks and a small, soft sob with each breath. His wounds stood out against his pale skin. The gashes Erin left on his chest had healed over but the new skin still looked fragile.

Jim stroked Blair's curls, saying nothing. It would be a while before Blair was strong enough to stand. The Change always took a lot out of him. "It's okay, baby," Jim said softly. "It's over now." Over, yeah. Until next month. He reached down to remove the collar and chain.

Blair raised his head, crawling up to his knees. "Oh, god, Jim."

"I know, Chief. It's over now." Jim let the collar fall and kissed Blair, tasting the salt of his tears. Just a kiss, for now. He stood, his muscles protesting because he'd been sitting on the cold stone floor for too long. He helped Blair to his feet and held him close.

Blair hugged him back tightly and Jim smiled, bending down to kiss Blair's neck. Later, he knew that Blair would want him and they would probably spend the afternoon making love, but now in the aftermath of Blair's Change, a hug was the best either of them could do.

*****

Sam lifted their bags into the Impala's trunk and closed it firmly. He turned to Jim and Blair, who were waiting beside the car. "Thanks, guys. Thanks for everything."

Jim smiled. "No, thank you. You two saved a lot of lives."

"Not without help," Sam answered. With Jim's offer of help with their search, Sam thought for the first time that he and Dean just might have a chance to find the Demon.

Jim's offer had surprised Sam; he'd thought that their agreement to share information was going to be the end of it. But Jim told them that he couldn't tell the FBI they were looking for a demon, and he wasn't willing to let the case go after everything he had learned.

"Dean and I will be watching for another fire, but if you hear of anything..."

"I'll call you," Jim confirmed.

Dean leaned over the roof of the Impala. "Just send us the co-ordinates. That's how Dad does it."

"Sounds easy enough."

"Even if it's not the Demon," Dean added. "I mean, if you run across something else supernatural. We're always looking for a new hunt."

Blair moved up to Jim's side and Sam noticed how Jim automatically put an arm around his shoulders, a protective gesture, he thought.

"Listen, man, I know you two have a job to do, but..." Blair glanced up at Jim, then back to Sam. "If you ever want a vacation, or if you need a safe place to hole up for a while, I want you to know you're welcome here. Any time."

The offer was unexpected. "Thanks," Sam said.

"Yeah, thanks," Dean agreed. "But, you know, if we ever do need a safehouse, there's a good chance there'll be something nasty on our tail. You sure you want to get into that?"

"If that ever happens," Jim said, his hand sliding down Blair's arm, "I think a sentinel and a werewolf would make good allies."

Sam found himself grinning. "You're right. We made a good team." He couldn't help glancing at Dean when he said that, and Dean nodded agreement. Probably only Sam realised what a huge change of heart that was for Dean.

"Stay in touch," Blair suggested. "I'll send you a copy of my next book."

"I can't wait," Sam told him. "We'll visit again. Next time we're in the state."

"C'mon, Sammy. Time to hit the road." Dean climbed into the driver's seat, slamming the door pointedly.

Sam sighed. "Yeah. Next hunt, next town." He opened the Impala's door and got inside.

"Good luck," Jim said.

Dean popped a tape into the stereo and turned the volume up. AC/DC filled the air and Dean gunned the engine, almost loud enough to drown out the music. He reversed out of the garage, turned the wheel, and headed down the driveway to the iron gate. Not once did he look back.

Sam did. A sentinel and a werewolf would make good allies. They certainly would.

He knew they would be back this way again.

The End