When Dean knocks on the door, you welcome him in. Why wouldn’t you? He had been searching for the shifter, lost sight of its trail. He says Sam went to check on Rebecca once more, ensure the shifter didn’t circle back for yet another victim. Why would that be suspicious?

‘Dean’ pushes off the door post and steps inside, boots clunking against the hardwood floors, a casual tilt to his head. Inside he was anything but casual. It was anything but casual. Too long it had been that the creature had gone without real human contact. One that wasn’t him plotting against the human or the human cowering in fear. Just casually being welcomed inside from the biting air outside.

The creature knew it was hideous, so taking on the form of a man as beautiful as Dean, he was bound to—for once in his sad, solitary, life feel a sense of acceptance. “…s’cold out.” He says and allows the door to click shut behind him.

You two sit down on the couch, he fills you in on details of the hunt, where they ‘lost’ the trail to the creature. You yourself had never faced a shifter before and find yourself curious, “Well, what is it, like a genetic freak?” You swear you see him flinch back.

“Maybe. Evolution is about mutation, right?” He gathers his cool once more and shrugs, “So, maybe this thing was born human, but was…different. Hideous and hated. Until he learned to become someone else.” Weird response. Weirdly personal for the man whose motto is shoot first, ask questions later.

Suddenly you feel a warm hand on your thigh. “It’s funny. I kind of understand him. He’s all alone—close to no one. All he wants is for someone to love him. He’s like me.” That didn’t sound like Dean. The creature knew it was being forward, but after a life of pure resentment and being a loner by its DNA, it didn’t care anymore. “You know, everybody needs a little human touch now and then. It’s so hard to be different.”

You look at him in question, to you this was still your good friend Dean. Strong man, even stronger hunter.

Not a beast stealing his skin. Melding its own appearance into an indistinguishable copy. He leans closer and closer, his breath igniting shivers that bloomed from where the breath fanned your cheek and down your spine. “D’you ever feel…different…?” He whispers, naively hopeful and shamelessly salacious.