always_enduphere | (no subject)

It'd taken him less than five minutes to lose Cas.

They'll have to work on that when Dean gets back. Cas is more vulnerable than ever, newly human and frankly, pretty fucking terrible at it. Given their lives to date, Dean has no reason to believe that every evil creature in Darrow won't be gunning for them both, and if Castiel is going to survive this place, he needs to shape up, and fast.

Doing a final weapons check outside the dilapidated building, Dean makes a mental note to start Castiel's training, and then he breathes out and steels himself.

There are, at minimum, twelve vampires inside. For a nest, it's huge, but it's also high noon, and Dean has it on good authority that a few of them haven't eaten in days. They'll be desperate, but stupid, too, and if it turns into a rough fight, well...these days, Dean will welcome that.

Squaring his shoulders, Dean lets himself in quietly through the rotted door. The first kill is swift and silent, as is the second, but the third...

Dean flies through the wall as easily as a hammer through wet cardboard, but he keeps a hand on his machete, up on his feet and ready for the fourth vampire when it comes for him. His expression doesn't change as he parts another head from its body, but the other vamps are up and closing in, snarling as they form a half circle around him.

Hesitating. Dean quirks a grin he almost feels and wipes his blade on the untorn leg of his jeans. "Did you need an invitation?" he asks, dragging the edge of the blade against his forearm. It's a narrow cut, but the blood weals up, rich and red, and the nest goes mad.

With the sounds pouring out the broken windows, anyone would be insane to come inside.

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The vampire gnawing on his throat gets distracted by Dean long enough for Derek to flip it over his shoulder and get his claws into its throat. He tears through it viciously because fuck, that stung.

There are two left by the time he's back on his feet and they take care of them at the same time, machete and claws, and Derek huffs a growl as the bodies drop to the ground.

His gums itch as his fangs retract and his eyes flicker back to their normal color as he looks at dean. His tank is ruined, covered in blood and shredded, and Derek picks at it where the coffee stain seems to remain intact. "What do you and everyone else have against this shirt?"

Adrenaline is pumping through him and he smirks, but it fades when he sees the bite on Dean's arm. He's covered in them himself, and a quick look down at his side shows that it isn't healing yet. That's a bit alarming.

"So uh, what's the deal with bites?" He jerks his chin towards Dean's arms. "You gonna go darkside?"

"I'd have to drink a vampire's blood," says Dean, looking Derek over with a clinical eye as he catches his breath. "Then drink from a human before I fully turned. With this brand of vampires, at least, there's more than one in Darrow."

Stepping forward, he steadies Derek with a hand to his shoulder, brows drawing together. "I thought you healed."

"Yeah, me too." He doesn't realize how unsteady on his feet he is until Dean's there to steady him. He's kind of drenched in blood and he pokes at one of the bites. "Wounds caused by an alpha take longer to heal. Maybe it's similar for ones caused by other supernaturals."

At least, shit, he hopes so.

His heart pounds for a bit, legitimately worried, but he wipes the blood away from one of the smaller surface bites. It's just starting to turn pink at the edges, skin knitting together slowly but surely. "Ah, there we go."

He shows his arm to Dean, not even bothering to try and keep the relief out of his voice. "I should get back."

He takes a few steps towards the door and wobbles a little, blinking rapidly. Wow, blood loss sucks.