Prompt: How about a fic that incorporates a little bit of your dream from the other night where the Winchesters run into Argent on a random hunt. The hunt doesn't necessarily have to involve werewolves, but some other creature, and not have it be in the town where Teen Wolf takes place, but have it in some other town that Argent is investigating on his own and he runs into the Winchesters and they team up together on this hunt a little unwillingly.
Now, Supernatural (S8+) and Teen Wolf have similar werewolf mythology, but it's different enough that I wouldn't ordinarily write a crossover for these two shows, because it's hard to marry them in a way that makes sense for both canons. But, since this is just ficlet month, I will allow stories that fly in the face of canon. Also, I will allow stories to fly in the face of timelines - because Teen Wolf is actually still stuck in 2011 - their timeline moves VERY SLOWLY, but I've got them meeting up with a circa S9 Sam and Dean (which would be either 2014 or 2016).
Also, because Chris Argent is, right now, possibly the most tragic figure on Teen Wolf, this story is unavoidably angsty.
This was also an experiment in my just writing for an hour and a half straight and seeing where the story took me and not really planning it out that much... I also ended it when I felt like everything interesting had pretty much been said. So, yeah, not sure how polished this one will feel, since I didn't fuss over it very much.
Hunters Like Us
Major Spoilers: Season 3b of Teen Wolf. (Seriously, MAJOR SPOILER). Minor spoilers for SPN S9.
It was like finding Gordon all over again, only this time they were at least following the vampire kills rather than the Hunter kills. All evidence pointed to two nests having a territory dispute and leaving plenty of human collateral damage – it made Dean wonder if maybe the whole goal was to draw Hunters to the area and then hope that they only wiped out the enemy nest. If that was what they were counting on, then the vampires were idiots.
They decided to go after the smaller nest first – it was the easier target. What they weren’t counting on was walking into the place to find it already coated in blood, severed heads, and motionless torsos. They decided to case the join anyway, just in case there were any survives.
They ran into the hunter in the great room – standing with a bloody machete and two corpses at his feet. As soon as they stepped into the room, he was dropping into a fighting stance.
“Whoa, whoa, we’re hunters!” Dean announced. The man straightened, but stayed wary.
“Prove it?” He demanded.
Dean walked slowly forward, and then reached his free hand up to lift his lip. “See, no fangs.”
“We’re the Winchesters,” Sam said from behind him. “I’m Sam, this is Dean.”
The man laughed bitterly. Dean took that to mean that he knew them, though he wasn’t sure he liked how the laugh sounded.
“The Winchesters...” the man muttered.
“And you are?” Dean asked.
“Argent,” the man said. “I got this one guys, you can hit the road.”
Dean shook his head. “There’s still the other nest.”
“Yeah, I’ll get that one in the morning,” Argent replied, bending to wipe his blade off on the shirt of the nearest body, before he sheaved it. “It’s too big to hit at night.”
“It’s too big to hit alone at any time of day,” Dean said. “You got back-up somewhere?”
Argent let out a broken laugh at that, and Dean knew that laugh... Dean had laughed that laugh.
“No,” Argent said. “Just me.”
“How about we do it together,” Sam offered, and Dean figured he must have picked up on it too.
“No,” Argent replied. “I work alone.”
“Come on, man,” Dean said. “We get the working alone thing, believe me – but in this case three is definitely better than one....”
“I said no,” Argent repeated. “Find yourselves another hunt.”
And then he stormed out of the room.
“Nice to meet you too,” Dean muttered.
Garth may have retired from the hunting game once he was bitten, but he was still a font of knowledge. Sam called him when they got back to the hotel – the name Agent niggling something in his brain.
“Yeah, Sam,” Garth said once Sam explained. “The Argents come from a long line of hunters. They’re pretty well known in those hunting circles, and they’re despised by the werewolf community, especially after what they did to the Hales – so I’d appreciate it if you don’t mention my name.”
“Hales?” Sam asked.
“They were a werewolf family up in Northern California,” Garth explained. “Kate Argent burned them alive in their house.”
“Hm,” Sam hummed, because it made sense that werewolves would hate werewolf hunters.
“There were humans in that house too,” Garth went on. “Man, even the Hunting community was appalled, as I hear it, but the Argents swore it wasn’t them – anyway, it all came to light about a year ago, that it was one of ‘em gone rogue.”
“Well, this wasn’t Kate,” Sam said, agreeing that it definitely sounded like Kate Argent was bad news. “And the guy said he was alone.”
“Yeah,” Garth agreed. “Kate got killed in an ‘animal attack’ – revenge, according to what I’ve heard from my new family here. You probably met Chris, her brother. The Argents are matriarchal, so he’ll still be answering to whoever the eldest female is in the family now that Kate’s dead.”
“Okay, thanks, man,” Sam said, and made his goodbyes.
Dean was already on the computer, looking up information. They could just leave the guy to go on a suicide mission to the second nest in the morning, but that hardly seemed like the right thing to do. But when trying to win an argument, it was easier to know who you were arguing against.
“Found him!” Dean declared. “Chris Argent, current residence is Beacon Hills, California... where his daughter was just murdered. Ah.”
Dean took a deep breath and continued. “Uh, his wife died a few months before that – suicide, apparently. Not long after the truth came out about his sister. So, yeah, reason for being a dumbass and going on a suicide mission is probably because the dude has literally nothing left to live for.”
“How old was his daughter?” Sam asked.
“Seventeen,” Dean answered. “Uh, according to the police report, she was stabbed with a sword by a mugger wearing a mask while she was out with friends. I’m willing to bet there’s a bit more to the story than that, given all the ‘It all happened so fast’ quotes in the statements.”
Sam nodded. “So, what do you do when you’re part of a matriarchal society that no longer has a matriarch?”
“Apparently,” Dean said. “You ditch werewolves and start hunting vampires.”
“Apparently,” Sam sighed. “So, what’s are game plan here? Do we just leave him to it? Do we try to sympathize? Do we show up tomorrow morning at the second nest and give him no choice about the back-up?”
“Man, I don’t know...” Dean sighed. “But, seeing as how we don’t actually know where he’s staying right now, probably we’re going to have to go with option three. He probably can’t take that second next out by himself, and it needs to be taken out. So, we’re either doing it with him or after he tries and fails.”
“Yeah,” Sam agreed.
They pulled out the map to figure out where they could park the car and the best approach for the second nest... and to started to debate what time they thought Argent might get started. They were arguing about that when there was a knock at the door.
Dean picked up a gun and stood. Sam put his hand on the machete that was holding down the edge of the map.
Dean looked through the keyhole, and turned back to raise an eyebrow at Sam.
“Speak of the devil,” Dean said as he opened the door. “How’d you find us?”
“Winchesters stay in shitty motels and drive a classic black car,” Argent replied. “There’s only two shitty motels in this town and everyone else has cars that were built this century.”
“And Argents specialize in werewolves, not vampires,” Sam said. “But you’re doing something different now, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, about that,” Argent said. “Listen, I’ll make you a deal – you can help me with the second next tomorrow, but I’ve got a condition.”
“A condition?” Dean asked. “You know we were just going to show up and help you anyway, whether you liked it or not, don’t you? You’re really not in a position to be giving us conditions.”
“Dean,” Sam sighed... because this was not the way you won people over.
“I figured, but if you agree to the condition, I won’t taze you when you show up tomorrow,” Argent smiled, not very kindly.
“What’s the condition?” Sam asked.
“We’re not going to stand back and let them kill you,” Dean said. “Just in case that was your plan. I gotta tell you man, there are easier ways – and I’ve seen hunters turned before, and it’s not something I want to have to deal with again.”
That brought Argent up short. Sam couldn’t tell if it was because they had called him out, or because he was offended that they would think that was the plan. Either way, when he spoke again, he didn’t address what Dean said.
“You can help tomorrow, but you have to promise never to set foot in Beacon Hills, California,” Argent said.
“Why?” Dean asked.
“Because those kids have been through enough,” Argent replied. “Word gets around about you two, and word is that wherever you go, you tend to leave messes – collateral. Those kids can’t afford any more collateral. They’ve been through enough.”
“Those kids – kids like your daughter?” Sam asked. “Is that what happened to her?”
“She died protecting her friends,” Argent replied, jaw clenching on the words. “I’m just trying to do the same.”
“Then why are you hunting vampires two states over?” Dean asked.
“Because I wanted revenge,” Argent replied, “because after we got the thing that killed her, it wasn’t enough... it didn’t feel like enough.”
“It’s never going to,” Sam said. “Take it from us. We know. It’s never going to be enough.”
Argent just nodded. “I know. I just needed some air.”
Sam caught Dean’s eye and they both nodded.
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Dean said. “You let us help tomorrow, and we’ll stay away from Beacon Hills, you have our word.”
Oh man, let me tell you, making it to day 20 is an accomplishment. I am losing steam here! The goal was to write every day, which I've done plenty of times before in my life for months at a time - I think I just underestimated how much more difficult it is to write something NEW every day.