Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Supernatural. The characters and the universe of Supernatural do not belong to me. I make no profit from this story.

A.N.: This is a sequel to my other story "Calling". It starts about one week after the ending of "Calling". There are some references to the first story, but you don't need to read it to understand this story.

Thanks to Kaz for beta reading this story :)

Forgive us our sins

by Silwyna

With a satisfied smile, Tobias Jackson dragged his prey after him leaving a bloody trail in his wake. It had been a good day. A successful hunt. He couldn't wait to gut his prey and let it bleed out. He hadn't had fresh liver in a long time. Also, not forgetting the heart and kidneys – already his grandfather had sworn on these organs for good health. And then there was the meat – this would keep him full for several weeks. He saw his cabin through the forest trees. It was just a few more feet and then he would be relieved of his heavy burden. He would have to hang it up in the shed to bleed it out and then get some rest. Finally - it had been a long day too.

The bushes on his left rustled, making him stop suddenly in his tracks. He had lived in these woods for more than half his life and knew every noise this forest could make. Nothing had startled him in here for years and yet, there was something about this sound that made the hair on his arms stand on end. As he quickened his steps he inwardly chastised himself. He must be getting old if a rustle in the woods made him feel scared.

Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed a shadow passing by but when he turned his head in the direction, he saw nothing but trees.

"I really am getting old." Tobias muttered. "Now my eyes are playing tricks on me as well." He thought about driving down to Pine Creek next week to see the doctor about getting a prescription for new glasses. He despised going down into town. After 40 years of living in the woods, going back to civilization wasn't something he looked forward to. Even less so when he remembered what civilization was doing to people. What it had made him do.

Tobias Jackson never got time to dwell on these thoughts for much longer as suddenly the deer he had been carrying was ripped from his hands and he was thrown against a nearby tree by an invisible force. The impact was pushing all air out of his lungs and before he got the chance to take in another breath, he felt his chest being ripped up by something that felt like claws. Tobias screamed in agony and fear. A long terrifying scream that would run the blood cold in anyone that had the misfortune of hearing it. But there was no one. Tobias was alone. And after the initial blow to his stomach, his screams gradually subsided and then stopped as a deadly silence fell over the woods.

Tobias Jackson had been living in the Reddick Forest for close to 40 years. He knew every animal, every tree and every sound in it. He believed he knew what was hiding in these woods. But he would never know what had killed him that day.

XXXXX

"A week Sam. We've been here for a week and nothing." Frustrated, Dean threw the newspaper next to him on the bed. "We have no idea what killed these people and there were no more deaths in nearly a month. Maybe it was just a bear."

"A bear?" Sam asked with raised eyebrows. He had been sitting in front of his laptop for hours trying to find any leads on their latest hunt. "These people were ripped apart. You've seen the photos. There is no bear with claws that huge. We're definitely dealing with something supernatural."

Sighing Dean fell back on the bed. "Fine. But even if it was something supernatural, it's gone now. I say we leave and look for a new gig somewhere else."

"We can do that from here." Sam replied absentmindedly, still typing on his laptop.

"Come again?" Dean asked, standing up. He wanted nothing more than to leave this backwoods town. He was pretty sure that he would go plain crazy if he had to spend one more night in this hillbilly motel with its kitten obsessed owner. There were pictures of kittens everywhere. The walls, curtains, blankets, even on the freaking carpet. He already had had nightmares about these evil pets. He was not going to spent one more second here than absolutely necessary. Not forgetting that it had been raining 24 hours a day since they had arrived here. If he had thought he hated snow, it didn't come even close to how he felt about rain right about now. If it kept going like this, he would have to turn his beloved Impala into an ark.

"We can search for a new hunt from here as well. Just to make sure … Shit!"

"What?" Alarmed by his brother's tone, Dean was at his side immediately and stared at the laptop. Sam was obviously busy checking his emails again.

"You're writing to Jade again?" He teased his little brother.

Sam rolled his eyes. "This is from Mitzy."

"Ahh, so Mitzy's your new love. I always knew you liked older women. I just never knew you liked them that old." Dean couldn't help himself. If there was an opportunity to mock his little brother, he simply had to take it. And Mitzy Dayton gave him lots of opportunities to do so.

Mitzy was a nice, 63 year old lady with a healthy interest for everything and a strange taste in clothes. She ran the local newspaper, so Sam and Dean had made her acquaintance fairly quickly after they arrived in town. Dean liked her, but she was fussing over Sam as if he was her very own grandson. His little brother always had that effect on elderly women and Dean knew that that always gave them lots of advantages when they tried to gather information. It still pissed him off though nevertheless and if he could tease his brother about it, he would use every chance he got.

"Would you shut up?" Sam growled. "Mitzy just sent me this press release from the Sheriff's office. There was a new killing. A hunter was found dead near his cabin up in the mountains. His body was … ripped up by claws." Sam cocked his eyebrow at his brother. "It's a good thing we didn't leave yet."

Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam. "So the bear got hungry again. That doesn't mean …"

"Dean."

The older Winchester rolled his eyes. "Fine. We'll look into it. But if we come up empty again, we're gone."

"Yeah, yeah." Sam waved him off and grabbed his jacket. "Mitzy asked to meet us at Maude's. Lets go."

XXXXXXX

Maude's was the only diner in Pine Creek, Wisconsin. It was a sweet little restaurant with several booths on one side and a bar on the opposite. There weren't many people there at this hour and Sam and Dean were able to pick a booth at the far end where they could talk without having to fear that someone was listening to them. They had come here every day since arriving in Pine Creek, enjoying Maude's special food, cake and coffee. They had found out quickly that this diner was the best place to find information too. Apparently strangers didn't often find their way to Pine Creek– a fact Dean didn't find surprising at all – and all its inhabitants were more than happy to share any news with them. The killings happening in the Reddick Forest, which lay directly next to the small town, was a topic anyone was willing to talk about and share their opinions with everyone. So, if two reporters from the New York Post were curious enough to make inquiries and travel this far to get answers, what local would miss their chance at notoriety and big-naming themselves and their town?

"Sam, Dean, I'm so glad you haven't left yet." Mitzy Dayton wheezed as she sat next to Sam at the table.

Neither of the brothers had ever seen her walk at a normal pace. Dean was sure that one day it would end in her death if she kept that up. This woman was ancient, for god's sake.

"Mitzy, hi." Sam greeted her, making place for Mitzy to take a seat next to him on the bench.

With a hidden smile he watched her catch her breath and place her oversized handbag on the table in front of her. Her multicoloured bobble hat and military jacket she handed over to Dean. Begrudgingly the older Winchester took them and put them on the bench next to him, his glare clearly showing that he didn't like being misused as a coat rack.

"With our job we learn to be patient with things like that." Sam said quickly before Dean could give any remark on that topic. "I just wish it hadn't been necessary for us to stay."

Dean stifled a groan. Not only did Mitzy treat Sam like one of her loved ones, Sam, being the nice and polite caring guy that he was, acted as if he really were her grandson. Sometimes Dean wondered where his little brother had gotten that from. Surely not from him or their Dad.

"So Mitzy, have you heard anything more interesting about this latest killing?" Dean asked to prevent any more polite small talk between his two companions. The last time they had sat together, she and Sam had talked about the weather, politics and Mitzy's neighbour's health problems for over half an hour.

"Just the usual." Mitzy sighed. "The Sheriff won't even show us any pictures of the body." She complained. Besides her interests for any news whatsoever, she also had a very, probably not so healthy interest in anything macabre, including pictures of bloody, deformed and brutalized murder victims. She had been spending some time in her youth working in Chicago and hunting down every crime scene she could find had been one of her favourite ways to spend the day. Dean didn't even want to imagine what kind of pictures she had saved on her small digital camera she always carried around with her. "I couldn't find out anything more than what Closter said at the press conference."

Dean had to grin at the mention of a "press conference". Mitzy was the only reporter in town and the only one in the room when Sheriff Closter held his weekly press conferences. From what Mitzy had told them, they sat together drinking a cup of tea and talked about what happened during the past week.

"That's not funny." Mitzy looked scolding at the older Winchester, clearly not amused by his grin. "The public has a right to know what we're dealing with. They need to know that someone or something is out there killing people. In a very brutal way I may add."

"Something?" Sam asked. It was the first time anyone in Pine Creek had mentioned the possibility that there wasn't a crazy serial killer loose in the woods. No one really believed the official bear story.

Sighing Mitzy took another swig of the coffee she had brought with her from the bar, before she replied. "Oh, it's Old Henderson that keeps filling everyone's heads with this rubbish. He's obsessed, I'm telling you."

"What's he saying?" Sam and Dean asked in unison.

"Well, he blames the Boobooshaw of course." Mitzy stated dryly.

"Excuse me … what? The boob's shoe?" Dean looked at the older woman with wide eyes. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Boobooshaw." He corrected his brother. "I've read about it on the net. But I thought it was just something to scare children with."

Sam had found the mention of the Boobooshaw by accident, from websites on which people tended to talk about anything supernatural that usually weren't real at all. He hadn't paid much attention to it as he hadn't found any proof that the story was legitimate.

"It is." Mitzy shook her head. "Old Henderson is just plain crazy, that's what everyone's saying. I once interviewed him about a bunch of hunters that had gone missing in the woods. Must have been about 40 years ago, shortly before I moved to Chicago. He claimed that an old cannibalistic Indian had turned into a demon and killed the men. He's a nut job I'm telling you."

"Huh …" Both Sam and Dean looked at each other. If they weren't mistaken - and according to Dean they never were, or at least he wasn't - then that sounded a lot like a Wendigo.

"Did they ever find out what killed the hunters?" Sam asked into the silence.

"No, they were just gone." Mitzy sighed. "Those woods are old, very old and deep. If you ask me, there are more animals in there than we believe and lots of ways to get lost and die. The official report said that they probably ran into a bear or something or fell down a cliff."

"All four of them?" Dean looked at her in doubt.

"Well, I never believed it myself. But it sounded a lot better than an old cannibalistic, demonic Indian, don't you think?" Mitzy snorted.

"Yeah, it sure does." Sam gave out a short laugh and then cleared his throat. "So, this Henderson guy, did he ever see the Boobooshaw? I mean, did he ever said he had seen it?" Sam quickly corrected himself. He didn't want Mitzy to believe he was as crazy as Old Henderson.

"Well, he said he's seen it, but … the Boobooshaw?" Mitzy's look spoke more clearly than her words.

"You're right, as if something called a Boobs show would ever kill someone." Dean grinned. "Maybe if you have a heart problem, but …"

"Dean." Sam growled. "And it's called Boobooshaw."

"Yeah, whatever." Dean waved him off. "So, where can we find the body?"

"You want to see the body?" Mitzy asked, her eyes narrowed to mere slits.

"Well, don't you?" Dean grinned.

Immediately Mitzy's grin mirrored Dean's and her eyes beamed with excitement. Sam shook his head at the macabre taste of his two companions.

"The body is still in the morgue, which is in the hospital's cellar. No security except for Warren, but for a slice of self made apple pie he's going to let us through." Mitzy scratched her chin in thought for a moment. "Freddie might become a problem though. He's the hospital's only doctor and the town's pathologist. He's very strict, especially when it comes to murder victims. Not that we usually have many of those around here. We'd have to distract him."

Dean was starting to like this woman a lot more. "Sounds like a plan to me." He grinned at Sam. "And I already know the perfect distraction."

"What?" Sam looked at his brother suspiciously.

"Well, your car accident from last month is finally paying off. Just tell the doc your ribs are still hurting or you think you might have some brain damage from the concussion, you know, talk a bit slow, like your dumb." His grin widened even more. "Shouldn't be too hard for you, right?"

"Thanks." Sam smirked. "Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Well, let's start then." Excitedly Mitzy rubbed her hands together. "This should be fun."

XXXXXXX

With the help of Mitzy's apple pie and Sam playing Dr. Fred Libbeck's patient, Dean and Mitzy were able to sneak into the Morgue without any problems. There had only been two deaths this week in Pine Creek – one had been 97 year old Harold Beech, who had died of a heart attack when he had brought the garbage out at night and the other one was Tobias Jackson, seasoned hunter, a hermit and the latest victim of whatever was haunting the Reddick Forest.

While Mitzy was already taking pictures of the body, Dean put on gloves and began inspecting the remains of Tobias Jackson. He really had been ripped apart. Fortunately the autopsy had already been finished and instead of fresh, bleeding wounds, scars were covering the whole body and bore witness to the brutal attack Tobias had fallen victim to.

"My God, if this was a bear, I'm still a dancing 20 year old." Mitzy muttered after she had finished taking pictures. "The report said his intestines and organs have been ripped out. Have you ever seen something like this?"

"Well, you know, these things come with the job. Though they are not always that bloody." Dean replied. Absentmindedly his fingers traced over three scars, going from the left shoulder across the whole chest. He couldn't help but remember Don Shaw, a man he and Sam had questioned a few months ago about his survival of a Wendigo attack at his home, when he had still been a kid. He had had similar scars on his shoulder, albeit several decades older. Still this could be another sign that they were dealing with a Wendigo.

"What do you think?" Mitzy inquired, her natural curiosity sparked by Dean's words.

"I think we have seen enough." Dean replied. He removed the gloves and threw them in a nearby trash can. "Let's go. By now Libbeck should have found out that everything's okay with Sam."

Or so Dean hoped. He hadn't said anything to Sam about it, but he was kinda glad that his brother got a final medical check over. They hadn't seen another doctor after Sam had left the hospital last month and even though his kid brother claimed to be pain free – and there was no indication that he was lying about that – Dean liked to make sure that all his wounds really had healed as they should have. And this had been the perfect opportunity.

XXXXXXX

"So?" Dean asked when he saw Sam stepping out of the hospital and walking towards the Impala. "What did the Doc say?"

"Not much. He went to school with Jackson and they had been good friends then, but he lost contact to him when Jackson permanently moved into his cabin in the woods. He only saw him every now and then when Jackson came into town to buy supplies or needed the Doc's help for anything he couldn't take care of himself." Sam told them. "I got the impression that something happened that made Jackson become a hermit, but the Doc changed the topic immediately when I asked about it."

"I could have told you the same." Mitzy sighed. "Tobias had been a nice man, always quiet and a bit shy, but … well, normal. That had changed when I came back from Chicago. He had left town and already lived in the woods."

"And?" Dean inquired, not at all satisfied by his brother's report.

"And nothing." Mitzy answered. "No one could ever give me a real reason for why Tobias moved up into the forest. It was one of the few unresolved mysteries in my journalistic career." She sighed.

"I meant Sam." Dean growled.

"I couldn't find out anything about his reasons as well." Sam shrugged.

"For God's sake, Sam. What did the Doc have to say about your health?" The older Winchester barked. His patience only went so far.

Dumbfounded Sam stared at his brother. "Everything's fine. What did you expect?" And then it clicked. Sam suddenly realized why his brother had picked him to be the one to play the "distraction." And with this realization he could also see the fear hidden deep in Dean's eyes. "He made all kinds of tests, X-ray and MRT because of my "suspected brain damage" and gave me a clean bill considering my health." Sam finally was able to give his brother the answer he had been looking for.

"Good. I just hope you showed them the right health insurance card because there is no way in hell I'll be able to hustle enough money in this town to pay for the hospital bill." Dean said. With that he walked around the Impala, opened the driver's door and got into the car. Now that he had all the information he'd wanted, there was no need to talk about it again.

Mitzy shot a curious look at the younger Winchester.

Sam felt like a deer caught in the headlights and quickly came up with an explanation for his brother's remark. "We had some problems with health insurance lately. Some administration problems. Someone entered some wrong information in the computer and bang … you're officially dead." Sam laughed shortly and cleared his throat. "Well, thanks for your help Mitzy. We let you know when we find something out."

"I'd appreciate that. And thank you …" Mitzy grinned. "It isn't every day that I get the chance to break into the morgue." With a satisfied smile, Mitzy walked away.

XXXXXXX

Twenty minutes later, Sam and Dean were back in the motel room. Mitzy had transferred her pictures into Sam's laptop while she and Dean had been waiting for him, so the younger Winchester had been able to see the same Dean had.

"Could be a Wendigo." Sam admitted begrudgingly. After his last encounter with one of these vicious creatures he didn't really look forward to a repeat.

"At least this time we're prepared." Dean shrugged. "So, we pack our bags, do a little walk through the woods and torch the friggin' sucker. That thing's as good as dead. This is an easy one." He grinned.

Sam looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He wouldn't exactly call their last Wendigo hunt easy. After all, Dean had nearly ended up as Wendigo food back then. "That has to wait. The Doc said that due to the rain from the last few weeks, all roads up into the forest are inundated. There's no way to get anywhere near where those killings happened. And we're not even sure it really is a Wendigo." He pointed out.

"Have you not seen these scars? And Mitzy said this Henderson guy saw a Wendigo 40 years ago. Looks like it got hungry again." Dean smirked.

Sighing Sam looked back at the pictures. "I don't know. Maybe we should look into this Boobooshaw legend more. Maybe …"

"There is no way I'm going to hunt something that is called Poobshoo." Dean objected immediately.

"Boobooshaw." Sam corrected him.

Dean ignored him. "No evil creature out there with any sense of pride would walk around with a name like Boobshee."

"Boobooshaw." Sam corrected him again. "And most evil creatures don't name themselves. It's usually us humans that choose the name. Maybe it's an Indian word or …"

"It's just a story to scare little kids, Sam."

"You mean like the Black Man? Or the Monster in the Closet? The Hook Man? The Tooth Fairy? Those are all just stories to scare little children. And we already killed each and every one of them." Sam cocked an eyebrow at his brother.

Annoyed Dean inhaled deeply. "Fine. You got a point. I'm still not hunting this Peepshow. It's a Wendigo."

"Boobooshaw, Dean. It's called Boobooshaw." Sam corrected him, irritated by his brother's continued use of the wrong word.

"Don't you even feel a little bit stupid repeating this name over and over again?" Dean grinned.

Sam waved him off. His brother was unbelievable. "I'm going to try and find this Henderson guy."

"You do it then. I'm going to pack our bags to make them Wendigo ready." Dean replied.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Fine. See you later."

XXXXXXX

A dark shadow scurried through the woods. It was hungry. It was thirsty. It was filled with anger. It wanted to be free. Finally free. But not yet. Not yet. The anger had subsided with the last breath of his last victim, but now the anger returned. It built up again from deep within and it could do nothing to prevent it. He hated the anger and the ever present hunger for more. It needed more. Much more. And there was only one way to get it all.

TBC