Changing Times

Chapter 2

AN/ I have decided to turn this story, Changing Times, into a The Beginning type of story where we will see Dean's days before and during his time as a werewolf before he meets Felicity. This will be updated when it related with the main story, Wolf's Instinct

851 A.D. Denmark

Dean shoved the last remaining items into his pack. This was the day he had been waiting for. This was the day he was going to be joining his father and elder brother in war. He stuffed a shirt inside, closed it and grabbed his daggers from the side table in the room. He glanced towards his brother Sam when the muttering coming from him became too much to ignore. Dean was the only one in the house to be excited to leave. He would miss his mother of course. Leaving her here alone was something that went against his nature, but he knew she would be looked after by the others in the village.

"Don't know why I have to go. Can just stay here with mother..." Sam's mutterings grew louder causing Dean to sigh.

"Sam could you please tone it down? I know you don't want to leave but it's not like you have a choice." The leader of the Viking army had recruited all men at or above the age of sixteen. Times were desperate as the takeover of Britain had turned for the worse winter last year, and many countrymen fell. They were losing numbers and they needed more quickly.

"I know that." Sam snapped. "I just think I could be better help staying here."

"Yeah, I'm sure they'll need your expertise at weaving baskets and washing clothes."

"Shut up." Sam muttered but a soft smile was seen on his face.

"Seriously. I need my back up. I'd probably get diced in half once I set one foot on shore."

"Don't say something like that." Dean was knocked over the head by a towel being swung by his mother. She had been quite ever since she heard the news that the remaining members of her family were going off to fight. Dean would often find her staring at him when he was training and he had woken up a few times to see his mother watching Sam as he slept.

"It would kill me if anything happened to you. Either of you." She dabbed at tears that started to form at her eyes. "It feels like I've already lost your father and brother to this war. I can't bare it if I lost you two as well."

Dean watched as Sam comforted their mother. He ached when she mentioned how his father and brother had drifted away from the family. They all felt it. Their mother had lost her husband, her best friend and she lost her eldest son. When father would come home, they never talked much. He would only ask how Dean's training was coming along and would only mutter a strangled sound when he was told Dean was the best of his age. He ignored Sam mostly which irritated Dean to no end. He wasn't a father to them anymore.

He also became more abusive. A hit on the bottom was not unheard of, but Dean was stunned when he saw his father smack his younger brother in the face when Sam talked back to his father. His father's face was red as John tried to hold back his anger and eventually left and returned back to war with Thomas the following week.

Dean swore he never wanted to become what his father was that day. Thomas was not much different. Dean's confidant, the one he told everything to had all but left him. Thomas would talk to them more than their father, but kept his distance. Both had deserted their family. And no one knew the reason why.

"Boys? Are you all packed?" They both nodded their heads and walked to the door of the house, their mother trailing behind. Sam opened the door and the morning sun lit up the house, the cool breeze making Sam shiver.

"Dear, you need another shirt." She ran off to a small chest and pulled out an extra shirt and helped Sam put it on. Sam obliged her, knowing she needed to do this.

"Who's going to take care of you out there?" She fretted. Dean smiled reassuringly.

"We'll be back before you know it."

"As long as you return alive." She reached up and brushed her thumb along his cheekbone and pulled him into a hug. Her tears soaked the edge of his shirt where her face was pressed against. She pulled away and looked out the door.

"How time flies, you don't want to be late." She pulled Sam into a hug, whispering goodbye to her baby boy. She pulled back but rested one hand on both Sam and Dean's face.

"I love you both so much."

"Love you too, mother." Dean felt the tears in eyes but blinked them away.

"Love you." Sam gave her one last hug and the boys turned to head out the door.

Dean led Sam away from the house, their mother leaning against the doorway with tears tracing down her face. Dean forced himself to turn his gaze back ahead of him as the curving road led them out of the village.

"Dean?"

"Yeah Sammy?"

"You weren't serious before right? You'd better not die as soon as we get there." Dean again was reminded at how sheltered and young Sam was at that moment. Sam was only sixteen and was kept from the real harsh trainings that Dean was put through. He swore to protect Sam at all costs.

"You're the only brother I have left." Sam continued but was interrupted by his elder brother.

"Sammy, I am not going to die and neither are you. We are going to whip those English arses and come home to see mother again. You understand?"

"Yeah. Sounds good." Sam replied, taking in his brother's reassuring words, his face becoming slightly brighter.

"And maybe we'll bring father and Thomas back with us."

"Yeah and maybe they'd smile more often."

They chuckled as they walked side by side down the path.

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