Crossover: BtVS/SPN

Characters: Oz, Dean, Sam.

Summary: Sometimes evil needs fighting, but what do you do if it's one of your own kind?

A/N: let's give a reason for Sam to have believed that Madison could have been a good werewolf.

"So, you thinking werewolf?"

"Certainly looks that way," Sam said, not glancing up from the reports he had found. "The time of the month is right on all of them…and the wounds," he handed Dean one of the crime scene photos.

"Yeesh! Yeah I'd say werewolf: or something worse." He handed the photo back. "We got any leads on who this thing might be during the day?"

"Maybe…all the victims were college students living on campus. Someone there's got to know something."

"Huh, looks like you're gonna get to go back to college, Sammy."

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"So what do you think about all these animal attacks recently?"

"What are they saying is doing it?"

"What do you think?"

"Is there anyone who's been acting strange recently? Disappearing on odd nights?"

"Did you know any of the people who got killed?"

"Can you think of any connection between the people who got attacked? Did they all have a friend in common or anything?"

"How about someone who's been hanging around the dorms?"

"Have you seen anything suspicious at all?"

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"Any luck?" Dean asked as he pulled up a seat at the café where Sam was waiting.

"Nothing, dude. No one's seen or heard or thinks anything suspicious is going on."

"Yeah, me neither. These people have gotta be blind if they're not seeing anything out of the ordinary here: that or they're lying."

"All of them?"

Dean shrugged. "I can't think of what else could have them clamming up so bad. I mean these attacks have been going on for years as far as we can tell right? Surely people have got to have noticed."

"Not necessarily."

Dean and Sam shared a glance before turning to the guy on the next table who had offered his opinion.

"Care to elaborate?" Dean asked.

The guy took a sip of his frappacino, chipped blue polish showing on his nails as he lifted the paper cup to his lips.

"Back home we call it "Sunnydale blindness". People only see what they can handle seeing, you know?"

Sam leaned towards him. "So you've noticed these attacks…"

The guy nodded, the dyed black spikes of his hair barely moving.

"And what makes you so special?" Dean interjected.

He was met with a look that said more than Dean was ready to deal with, but the only answer was. "I'm not from around here."

Sam ignored Dean's puzzled look and offered a hand to their new companion. "I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean."

"Oz."

"Pleased to meet you Oz. So do you know anything about these attacks?"

A darkness seemed to pass over Oz's eyes. "You're hunters right? You know how to kill a 'wolf?"

"Sure, we've taken out a few," Dean said cockily. "Still a little curious about how you know so much though."

Oz stood abruptly ignoring the implied question. "Meet me back here at sunset and come prepared. It's the last night of the full moon tonight."

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"Do you think this Oz guy is our werewolf?"

"I don't think so Dean."

"Well, either way, we're ready. I've got enough silver bullets to take out a pack of the things."

Sam and Dean arrived at the dark café, closed up tight for the night already despite the fact that the sun had only just set. Oz was already there waiting for them, his back turned to them as he watched the last traces of light leave the sky.

"You ready?" He asked, catching the last of the light at just the right angle as he turned to face them that for a moment his eyes seemed to shine unnaturally.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. They were not ignorant townspeople to ignore what they saw with their own eyes, but Oz seemed decent enough (especially as the sun was down and he hadn't turned into a wolf) so they nodded agreement.

"Lead the way," Dean gestured with is elbow, his gun held ready in both hands.

Sam pulled his own as they moved off, Oz leading them unerringly towards the back of one particular dorm building.

"How do you know where this thing is anyway?" Dean asked, suspiciously.

There was a deep growling from the shadows.

"I know."

Sam and Dean raised their guns, ready to fire, Sam grabbing hold of Oz's shoulder, trying to pull him back the behind them, but he wasn't moving.

"Get back!"

"It's ok." Oz murmured over his shoulder, a slight strangeness to his face, his teeth, caught in the moonlight, making Dean change his aim.

"Dude I knew we shouldn't have trusted this guy!"

"Dean, don't shoot!"

"He's the one Sam!"

"I don't think so…"

A huge hulking shape detached itself from the shadows, its long claws and teeth evident in the full moon light.

"Holy…"

Dean didn't have a chance to finish before it sprang at Sam, slavering jaws snapping shut with a crack as Oz barrelled into it, Sam falling away from its grip to land hard on the path. It was easily two foot taller than Oz, but even in his human form he seemed able to keep it occupied for a few moments, long enough for Dean to take aim and fire.

Unfortunately he couldn't hit the heart with Oz in the way and the rage of being hurt seemed to give it strength enough to throw the small man away. It dived for Dean, wanting to rip off the arms that had dared to shoot at it, but running head on into a gun loaded with silver bullets wasn't going to be good enough. It came to a rest finally at Dean's feet, making him step back as, with the last bit of life it had left to it, it reached out for his leg with its claws.

Dean nudged its nose with his boot, checking it was dead before he remembered what it had done.

"Sammy…" he breathed, running over to the groaning form of his little brother. "Sammy are you hurt? Did it scratch you? Bite you?"

"I'm fine..."He swayed as he got to his feet, "apart from having my head smashed off the pavement." He looked at the dead thing, now slowly shifting back to its human form. "Did I miss something?"

They looked down on the naked form of one of the college professors, each bullet wound clearly marked by seared flesh.

"Why do they have to do that…" Dean asked, recoiling slightly.

"Live as a wolf, die as a human."

The brothers turned to see their young companion strolling up, blood from a number of wounds staining his clothes.

Dean's hand twitched towards his gun, but he didn't make a move to draw it.

Sam's eyes flicked over Oz. "It bit you."

Oz smiled wryly, "It really doesn't matter."

"…guess not." Sam said cautiously. "You haven't changed."

"Should I have?" Oz chuckled at their looks of confusion, but there was sadness in his eyes as he looked at the fallen professor. "Later guys." He said abruptly, turning on his heel and walking away.

Dean relaxed a little.

"Great, leave us with the stiff."

"Oh by the way," Oz said, turning back and making Dean jump. "If you're leaving town you might want to head up the road to Sunnydale: I hear they could use some extra hands in the demon-fighting gig at the moment. Find Willow Rosenburg and tell her…tell her Oz says hi."