DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Oz(Daniel Osbourne) belongs to Joss Whedon, and Jo Harvelle belongs to Eric Kripke.
Jo slowly opened her eyes and using her arms, leveraged herself into a sitting position. She could feel her hair in tumbled knots and could feel herself shivering and, upon looking down, discovered the reason why: she was stark naked in the middle of what looked like a cage built into a cave wall. She sniffed and caught a familiar scent of rust and salt. Blood
a voice whispered in the back of her mind.
She lifted a shaking hand to her face and wiped something sticky and wet off of her chin; she pulled back her hand to find It coated in bright red blood and she turned around, puking in a corner. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and pulled her knees up to her chest in an attempt at modesty.
“Hello?” she called. “Can anybody hear me?” she was ashamed to hear her own voice shake with fear. “What’s going on?!”
“You were bitten,” a voice replied. Jo jumped and scrambled to her feet as a young man who looked only a few years older than her, with short orange spiked hair stepped into her vision. He was eerily calm and dressed in a brown robe.
“Bitten by what?”
“A werewolf.” Jo felt her eyes go wide, and then it hit her; last month she had been attacked outside of the bar she had been working at. She hadn’t really given it much thought until last night, when she had started to feet funny, and as the full moon rose, she had lost consciousness.
“Why haven’t you killed me then?”
“Do you want me to kill you?” The man responded.
“I killed somebody, didn’t I? That’s why I’m covered in blood?”
“You haven’t killed any people,” the man assured her, “we found you last night in the woods, eating a deer.”
“Who is ‘we’?”
“My pack; we subdued you and brought you here for the remainder of the full moon.”
“Why aren’t you going to kill me? That’s what you do to werewolves, right? A silver bullet to the heart?”
“I’m not going to kill you because I used to be like you,” the man replied, “I’d like to help you; teach you how to control your wolf, like the rest of my pack have learned to do.”
“Control the wolf?” Jo blurted. “Is that even possible?”
“Yea,” the man confirmed, offering her a small smile, “I learned from a bunch of monks. All of the wolves in my pack have learned too. We no longer change at the full moon.”
Jo thought about it; if she told her mom she had been bitten, she would be sure to freak out and go completely off the rails, yelling at her for being reckless and spewing endless ‘I told you so’s; if she told Sam or Dean they would tell her the truth, tell her that she was a monster, that she needed to be ‘taken care of.’ They would kill her; if she kept it to herself, it would eat her up. She would be hurting innocent people every month and she would be helpless to stop it. She would be no better than the things she hunted. But this man, this strange man, this werewolf
, wanted to help her; to guide her; to teach her; to show her that she wasn’t a monster.
She looked up, meeting his startling kind grey eyes.
“You’ll really help me?” He quirked a smile at her and unlocked the cage.
“Yea; we will.” He handed her a robe like the one he was wearing and she took it, gratefully.
“My name is Jo. Jo Harvelle.”
“I’m Oz.”~*~A/N: I was going through the FFA pairing list and noticed that this one hadn't been used; so an idea hit me and I just started typing. I'm thinking series of oneshots. No romance between Jo and Oz.
Reviews are welcome.