Finally back with a new multi-chap story! This is a S5 one, set after 5x5 "Fallen Idols" after Sam and Dean have gotten back together but still aren't quite working together seamlessly again. Of course, amping up the angst in this fic because there's some things I wish had been addressed in the show like, that voicemail that Dean didn't actually leave and was never talked about again. So yeah, angst. And there will be Sam whump too.

Demons Within

A Supernatural Fanfic

Chapter One

Sam browsed the aisles of the gas station mart, grabbing the usuals off the shelf. Protein bars, chips, beef jerky. He passed a stand of horrifically processed baked goods and sighed, reaching out to grab a slice of cherry pie. He rolled his eyes as he put it into the basket as well. He wasn't trying to suck up to Dean by remembering to buy the pie, he just thought it might help loosen things up in their relationship again. He'd been trying; mainly to change little things he usually did, like not complaining that Dean was always the one to drive, not complaining about his music, not really complaining at all…Sam sighed again and went to pay for the stuff. Unfortunately, his efforts didn't really seem to be working. Dean was still somewhat distant, and Sam could only assume that it was because his brother still didn't trust him. But he also knew trust took time, and their last hunt at the wax museum hadn't gone terribly so maybe they could get back into the swing of things again. Maybe everything could go back to normal.

Sam just still wasn't sure that was exactly what he wanted. Because, after all, it might just be that Dean simply thought he was a monster.

Sam had tried over the weeks to blot out the memory of that voicemail his brother had left for him before he had gone to kill Lilith. He'd thought that the pain would fade eventually, that he would remember it being less harsh than it was, or find some reasonable explanation that Dean might have said those things. Heck, maybe part of him had been waiting for Dean himself to bring it up and apologize; taking back what he said in the heat of anger. But none of that had happened and the message had simply eaten a hole in Sam's heart, making him question whether Dean had ever truly trusted him.

I'm done trying to save you. You're a monster, Sam.

"Hey, buddy, you okay there?"

Sam startled and looked up at the cashier seeing the guy watching him expectantly.

"Oh, sorry," Sam murmured and reached into his pocket for his wallet.

After he paid for the snacks and went back out to the Impala, he found Dean talking on the phone.

"Yeah, sure, don't worry about it. We'll be there soon. Bye." He ended the call and turned around the see Sam.

"Was that Bobby?" he asked.

Dean shook his head. "No, actually, it was an old friend of Dad's, or, well, you know, a hunting partner."

Sam snorted. Yeah, their dad hadn't really had a lot of friends and most of the hunters he worked with that were still alive had had a falling out with him.

"You remember Jerry Harlan?" Dean asked.

Sam frowned. "Name kinda sounds familiar."

"He was the one who helped Dad out with that revenant case that summer—think you were about fourteen."

Sam furrowed his brow, vaguely remembering. "He need help on a hunt?"

"Yeah, actually, sounds pretty hairy," Dean said. "He said he thought it was a wendigo at first, taking hikers in a remote area, but when he got up there it looked like more than one of something and wendigos don't hunt in packs."

Sam frowned, his research gears already moving. "You sure we have time to do another hunt, Dean? I mean, come on, in case you forgot, it's the apocalypse!"

"I know, Sam," Dean snapped. "But we're stuck, okay? Bobby can't find anything useful, Cas is still off looking for God, and if I don't do something I'm gonna go stir crazy. I figure if we can't gank Lucifer, we can at least hunt some evil sons of bitches who are hurting innocent people."

Sam knew that arguing wasn't going to do any good so he simply moved to open the car door. "You're right. Let's go then."

Dean seemed surprised at how easy he had won the argument and slipped silently behind the wheel. Sam set the bag of snacks between them on the seat. "Here. And before you ask, I got pie."

Dean's eyes widened. "Really? To what do I owe this surprise?"

Sam rolled his eyes and turned to look out the window, folding his arms over his chest.

"Whatever," Dean muttered and started the car, peeling out of the parking lot and down the highway. He flipped his music on, letting Led Zeppelin blare from the speakers, leaving all conversation impossible.

They stopped later that night at a motel halfway to the point they would meet with Jerry, in Idaho. Dean went on a food run and Sam sat down with his laptop to start doing research into the hunt they would be doing. At least that was something Dean still trusted him to do. Although that could be because he just didn't want to have to do it himself.

The first things he found were the local news reports about the missing hikers. No bodies had been recovered yet, and only the campsites, which had been torn to pieces with traces of blood at some of them, were indication that something violent had happened to the hikers at all. All of that pointed to a wendigo but if Jerry thought there was more than one monster out there, then that didn't quite add up. Of course, it was the apocalypse, and other things had been going crazy. Even Leshi, the forest god they had just destroyed at the wax Museum in Canton had confessed to 'pigging out' because of the apocalypse. Maybe the end of times had all the big bads in the mindset that normal rules didn't apply.

Dean came back into the room then, Chinese takeout in hand. He glanced over and saw Sam on the computer. "Find anything?"

"Have mainly just been reading the news reports," Sam said. "Thought I might look into the history behind the area a little." He pushed the computer aside and took the box Dean slid across the table to him. "If these are wendigos, don't you think it's weird they would be as far west as Idaho?"

Dean shrugged, picking up his chopsticks. "We hunted that one out in Colorado, remember? Besides, with the apocalypse nigh, it's kinda got everything worked up," he said, echoing Sam's thoughts from earlier.

"Yeah," Sam said and turned back to his food. He could feel Dean's eyes on him every once in a while and wanted to yell at him to stop but he couldn't really blame his brother for being like that. He probably would be too if Dean had been the one chugging demon blood. Just the thought of it now made his stomach flip sickly and he pushed his food aside, and turned back to research. He heard Dean sigh quietly but ignored him.

He decided to turn in early, in the hopes that sleep would actually come tonight, and went to take a shower while Dean was occupied flipping channels on the TV. When Sam returned, he simply moved to his bed, crawled under the covers and laid down with his back to Dean, squeezing his eyes shut, and willing sleep to come.

Eventually, Dean turned the TV off, and crawled into bed himself. When his brother's breathing stayed light instead of evening out as well, Sam knew it was going to be a long night.

Dean lay in bed, waiting for the sound of Sam's even breathing that would tell him his brother had finally fallen asleep, but it never came. Dean huffed and turned his back, gripping his pillow tight. He didn't know what was going on with Sam lately. First, he'd gone off by himself, tried to get out of the life, and now that he was back, even though they'd agreed that this was the best thing for them to do, he was just acting like a little bitch. Typical. It was like it was all Dean's fault that he didn't trust Sam.

And could he really be blamed for a little rocky trust? After all, Dean wasn't the one who had gone behind his brother's back, hanging out with demons and sucking demon blood. And yeah, Dean knew that in reality, Sam didn't want the apocalypse to happen, but he'd like a little reassurance that his brother wasn't just going to run off when things got rough, or were too much for him to handle. Sam just had to learn to suck it up.

But he's also seen Sam like this before in the past too. Like when he had gone off to collage, and he'd come back then, Dean knew he had to have faith that his brother would come around again, and they could stop this thing together. Because, if he was being honest, he wasn't sure he could do it all by himself, and he sure as hell didn't want to have to.

At least Sam was hunting with him again though; that was a start.

Dean heard Sam shift around and huff out a weary sigh before he got out of his bed and headed to the table to pull out his laptop. Dean muffled his own sigh into his pillow. Multiple wendigos or not, he didn't think either of them would get any sleep that night.

And it was a long night. Dean only caught snatches of poor sleep riddled with nightmares and Sam was still at his laptop when Dean finally rolled out of bed to shower in the morning.

When he came out, hair still wet, Sam was still there and hadn't even so much as looked at him that morning. Dean turned to his bags to pack stuff up. "Find anything?" he asked his brother nonchalantly.

"Uh, yeah, actually a few things," Sam said. "Some history on the area that might shed some light on the hunt."

"Great, you can tell me on the way," Dean said and slung his bag over his shoulder, grabbing his keys. "We'll get some breakfast on our way out of town."

Sam packed up his laptop without a word and followed Dean out of the room and to the car. Again, Dean felt irked by this oddly compliant Sam, but he chose to ignore it because he knew from long experience that it was best to just let Sam's moods run their course. The more you poked the bear (and a bitchy bear he could be) the longer Sam decided to keep up the act.

They stopped at a fast food drive through for breakfast burritos and coffee and then Dean hit the highway and they were on their way to their destination.

Dean took a deep gulp of his coffee before he turned to Sam. "So, what has the geekboy found out that can be of use?"

Sam shot him a bitchface that almost made Dean feel better, but he simply grabbed a notebook and looked over some of the notes he had made. "Well, after looking at the reports about the killings, or kidnappings which is what they are calling them officially, I didn't think it looked like werewolves which would be the most likely conclusion for pack hunters."

"What about vamps?" Dean cut in.

Sam shook his head. "The campsites were torn apart. Vampires aren't usually so violent."

"Yeah, and they usually prefer a more urban setting," Dean agreed.

"Exactly, so I started to look into more local lore, and came across this one story about similar occurrences dating back to the 60s, and then the 30s, and then pretty much every thirty years."

"That kinda tracks with wendigos."

"Yeah, it does, at least with most of the other cases we worked. Anyway, that's what I thought too, so I started looking a little deeper into the history of the area, and apparently there was a party of settlers passing through back in the eighteen hundreds that got caught out in the woods during a long cold winter."

"And let me guess, they took after the Donner Party," Dean grunted, shaking his head.

"Actually, no one knows for sure," Sam said. "They just know that this group never made it to their destination and when they sent out a search party, the only thing left was an abandoned rough campsite and several graves."

"Maybe we shouldn't rule out vengeful spirits," Dean said.

Sam shrugged, "Maybe not. But the story does point to wendigos. I'm betting that it ended badly enough for those people that they ended up doing what they had to do to stay alive."

"Yikes," Dean shuddered. "Don't put me down for cannibalism."

Sam just shook his head, and looked over his notes more. "At least if it is a wendigo, even more than one, some of the hikers might even still be alive. And we know how to kill them. Then we can get back to figuring out what to do about the apocalypse."

Dean stifled a sigh as he watched the road ahead. "You know, Sam, just because it's the end of the world, doesn't mean we get to quit our day job. People still need saving."

"Dean, the world needs saving," Sam snapped. "If we don't stop Lucifer, everyone is going to die."

"You don't think I know that? I mean, I'm apparently the one who's supposed to stop it," Dean snapped back. "And like I said before, when we have some idea of how to stop the devil, great, let's go! But until then, monsters are still killing people, and if we have nothing better to do, then we have to keep saving, because that's our job."

"I'm not arguing that point, I'm just—you know what, forget it, it's not worth arguing over." Sam then turned to look out the window, obviously done with this conversation.

Dean opened his mouth to retort, but had nothing to say. Besides, he knew no matter what he said, it wouldn't do any good. He simply flicked on the radio and turned the music up loud, pressing his foot harder into the gas pedal.

He did agree with Sam on one thing. The sooner this case was over, the better.

They stopped later for gas and food when they got over the border of Idaho. Dean left Sam, who still hadn't given up on sulking, in the car, and went to grab burgers from across the street. His phone rang when he was almost on his way back, and he picked it up, slightly annoyed thinking it was probably Jerry, wondering where they were.

But it turned out it was Cas instead.

"Hey, Cas, what's up?"

"Hello Dean," the angel replied and paused. "Um…currently it is raining where I am, so I suppose, clouds are…what is up."

Dean rolled his eyes. "No, man, it's just a…never mind. How are things going?"

The angel sighed. "Poorly. I have searched everywhere I can think of and still no sign of God. No indication He is even still on earth. Perhaps he's not on earth. I didn't really consider that option…"

"Why don't take a break, come back to it with a clear head?" Dean suggested, crossing the street with his bag of hot food. "Sam and I are actually heading to meet another hunter on a case. Looks like it might be multiple wendigos. We could use another set of hands."

"Well, I suppose it couldn't hurt. And I do feel like I would be more use to you there than I am here right now. After all, if God is hiding on earth, I highly doubt it would be in the middle of the wettest part of the English countryside." He paused again. "How is Sam?"

Dean glanced toward where he'd parked the Impala, halting his progress for a moment as he saw Sam just sitting inside, looking down at something. "Oh, you know, he's okay."

"Dean, I know it might be hard for you two to start working together again after everything, but we need Sam in this fight. And he needs you right now. If Lucifer finds any chink in his armor—"

"Yeah, you don't have to tell me twice," Dean cut in grimly. "I know we'll get back into the swing of things after a while, it's just…I wouldn't mind having a buffer either."

"I understand," Cas replied. "I'll come help you on this hunt."

Dean felt some relief. He didn't really want to put Cas in that position on purpose, but at the same time, he would be extremely glad for the angel being there.

"I'll text you the address for the gas station we're at now," Dean told him.

"I'll be there soon," Cas replied. "I'm going to hang up now."

"Okay, bye, Cas," Dean said and shook his head as he ended the call and tapped out the location to send to Cas. He then crossed the parking lot to the Impala and knocked on Sam's window, startling him slightly from the book he was looking at.

"Food," he said and tossed one of the burgers into Sam's lap. His brother's lips thinned but he didn't say anything. He didn't even complain that Dean hadn't gotten him a salad.

"Cas called; he's gonna join us on this one."

Sam frowned now and turned around. "Isn't he kinda busy?"

"He hit a dead end, needed a break," Dean shrugged. "Figured we could use an extra pair of hands."

"We've already got three hunters on this."

"And if we have at least three wendigos we're gonna need the help," Dean shot back.

"Well as long as you didn't invite him because you think I need a babysitter."

Dean spun around on his brother. "Oh, I don't—seriously? Cas isn't a babysitter, he's our friend! If I'd worried about you that much I would have dropped you at Bobby's."

Sam looked like he was going to say something when a knock came at the window and Dean spun around to see Cas standing there. Dean nodded to the back and the angel opened the door and slid into the back seat.

"Hey, Cas," Dean replied. "Got here just in time."

"Hello Dean. Sam," Cas nodded to the younger Winchester.

"Hey, Cas," Sam said, sounded somewhat subdued.

"Alright, well, now that you're here, we've gotta go," Dean said and started the engine.

Yeah, this hunt was gonna be a barrel of fun.