Disclaimer- i do not own supernatural!
EDITED VERSION!!!!!!!!!!!
Chapter One!
Sam hesitantly turned, only for Dean to slam into him. With inhuman strength, Dean sent Sam flying. Ruby's knife clattered to the ground. Sam's head bounced against the wall, stars exploding before his eyes. He blinked away the darkness, only to be greeted by the beetle shell black eyes of his big brother. Dean taps the hammer against Sam's temple, leaning close to Sam. Dean's forearm dug into Sam's throat, his hand squeezing Sam's injured shoulder.
"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy." The voice sent a shudder through Sam. Dean leaned forward, his nose almost touching Sam's. "I would so love to smash your skull to pulp. To see that big ole brain you've got in there." Dean grinned, brushing Sam's hair with the claws of the hammer. "But… I see a use in you. I see… an addict. I see a monster. I see a freak. What do ya say, Sammy? Wanna… jump from the wagon?"
Dean's breath was hot, his body leaning into Sam's. "Dean! Stop we can fix this! Just… just let me cure you. Please." Sam's voice was higher than normal and his eyes were dilated with fear. Dean snarled, released Sam for a moment before grabbing Sam's bad arm and tossing him to the floor with a wrench of the joint. Sam tumbled to the floor, his eyes slamming closed as the hammer hit home into his torso. Sam curled into a ball as best as he could, crying out. Dean forced him onto his back and Sam shouted a prayer in his mind to Castiel. Sam hesitantly opened his eyes when he felt Dean sit down on his sore stomach.
"Now… where was I? Oh! Right!" Dean lifted the hammer, and Sam flinched. Only, Dean was tearing into his own hand, blood welling up. Dean make a shushing noise as he brought his hand down. Sam thrashed, only now realizing what Dean's plan was. Dean's hand held his nose closed and blood trickled unto Sam's mouth. He was no match for his brother right now. Sam shut his eyes tight, not wanting to see the triumph on his brother's face. The thick blood slid like cough syrup down his throat. Immediately, Sam felt it. His body clenched and rebelled but… it felt so good. His skin began to burn, his stomach cried for more, his hands came up and latched on the offered hand, teeth tearing the flesh. Tears poured down Sam's face, blurring his vision. Dean shoved him away suddenly. He stood and grinned sadistically.
"Good job, Sammy. Now… that wasn't so hard was it?"
Sam's head fell back, his stomach churning, the blackness came then in the form of a fist to the side of Sam's head.
Sam came to, not much later, his head pounding. His entire body ached, thrumming with his rapid pulse. The too familiar buzz filled his body, power tickled his fingers, his greatest enemy pulsing through his very own body. He shudders hard, gagging around the taste. He rolls onto his side, pain throbbing in his shoulder and stomach. Sam shoved his fingers into his throat, bile and browned blood exploding out of him. His arms shake as his brother's blood spreads along the floor of the Bunker. Already, he could feel his body begging for more. More. More! Sam rolls away from his vomit and struggles to his feet. Sam feels like screaming. Five years clean and for what? For his own brother to destroy it all? And don't even get Sam started on now he feels about that. Dean never failed in saving Sam. But This? Sam couldn't even help his brother who acted as though he didn't want to be helped. With a groan of frustration, Sam stands. The blood had healed the worse of his injuries but Sam felt shaky and sick. He didn't want this. He wanted it all to stop.
Sam stumbled his way through the Bunker, the withdrawal already taking hold. The ground around him dipped and swayed. Several times, Sam was forced to stop and breathe, swallowing back more sick. Fever made his mental lashing he gave himself even more disorienting.
"FAILURE… LOSER… EVIL… FREAK... YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING RIGHT… THE ABOMINATION… BOY WITH THE DEMON BLOOD" Sam claps his hands over his ears, a cry bursting from his lips. His breath catches in his throat as he smells the intoxicating sulfuric copper of demonic blood. Sam's stomach churns and he looks up. Sam opens his eyes to see Dean leaning against the stairs well leading up to the exit sam had been unconsciously heading for. Dean scowls, his eyes flashing black.
"Damn you are stubborn," Dean shakes his head. "Here you are all hopped up on demon blood, you feel yourself slipping and you STILL try to escape me. Stanford, my ass."
Dean snorts, with a feral grin and approaches Sam, a swagger in his step. Sam backs up, patting his pants searching in vain for a weapon. The floor seems to buck and Sam stumbles to the floor with a cry. Instinct takes over, and Sam's left hand goes down, trying to catch himself and the right hand going up to hold back any attacks. With a resounding crash, Dean goes flying back into one of the bookcases. Dean collapses to the floor, panting, but an eerie grin still in place. Kicking aside the mess of books, he prowls over to Sam, who had scrambled away from Dean.
"There ya go, Sammy!" Dean calls, clapping his hands. He hauls Sam to his feet and drags him to one of the nearby chairs. … where the hell are you, Cas? Sam screams in his head.
"Made a dinner run for you." Dean pushes a gallon jug of blood to Sam's lips. The sweet, tempting smell makes Sam tremble and salivate like a starving dog. Sam shakes himself, trying to fight the animalistic urge. His whole being trashing and reaching… reaching… unknown to Sam, Sam's eyes turn yellow as he snatches the jug from Dean and drink it down like a shot of whiskey. The buzz is immediate. Sam gave a keening wail for more, feeling himself losing his head. His very humanity slipping away, the animal taking control. The colors of the world brighten and sharpen. Sam hears every sound, the pounding of his own heart, much faster than it should be. The rush of blood under his brother's skin. Sam can smell the sterile dusty Bunker in a whole new way. The blood of those who once called the Bunker home. All these things so clear. It almost creates an entire new version of this place.
Dean's fingers are brushing back Sam's tangled hair. His calloused hands, cool against the raging fever, Sam's body temperature climbing as the blood sets in. Sam looks up at him and see his face… not his human face. But the face he wears now. Horns and talons and fangs. His face breaks back into the Cheshire grin and Sam feels himself grin back, barely able to hold back from biting into the arteries in his pulsing neck…
"You behave. One toe out of line and you'll pay."
For the first time in weeks, Sam chuckles. " Shut up Dean. Just don't get too close to me. I may rip your throat out."
"We will get you fed soon. I have a plan. As many demons as you want, Sammy. All you gotta do is help me." Dean leans against the table, candy apple green eyes dancing in the florescent light.
"What do I have to do?" Sam almost moans, his animalistic side imagining hundreds of millions of demons. Dean winks and lifts up two more jugs of blood. As Sam loses himself in the warm red liquid, Dean talks. And Sam? He find himself nodding along.