Dean motioned quietly to Sam to follow him as they trekked through the cool, damp woods. Sam nodded and soundlessly moved behind him. Both carried flashlights, the yellow beams casting long shadows in the dark. Under normal circumstances, they wouldn't ever go hunting in the woods at night, but based on Sam's research the creature had only been spotted in the dark. For almost two hours they had walked in the woods, and the only sound they had heard was the crunching of leaves under their boots sounds like someone eating potato chips Dean thought absentmindedly. It didn't occur to him until an hour after that, that it was too quiet. There were no chirping crickets, no sounds of life whatsoever… almost as if the entire forest was holding it's breath…like it was afraid. Dean stopped at this realization, and nearly jumped out of his skin when Sam bumped into him.

"Why'd you stop?" Sam whispered

Dean looked around nervously, "You hear that Sam?"

"Hear what?…Oh" Sam's expression changed when he realized what Dean was getting at.

For a few moments all they heard was each other's soft breathing, then everything went wrong. A low growl was heard from somewhere in the shadow, flashlights forgotten, Sam and Dean trained their guns to the underbrush. Suddenly Sam had the air knocked out of him as a humanoid shape crashed into his side. The momentum from the tackle cause both Sam and the creature to tumble down the slope. When they landed near the bottom Dean's calls were drowned out by the growling of the lupine figure. Somehow, it had gotten the better of Sam and landed on top.

Its fanged mouth clamped down ferociously on Sam's side, just above his hipbone. Sam screamed in pain as the creature-wolf thing sunk its fangs even deeper, his blood roaring in his ears. Abruptly, the creature stiffened on top of him and took off running. Sam laid there panting harshly while attempting to staunch the blood flow with both hands pressed to the burning wound.

When Dean heard his brothers anguished scream, he skid down the slippery slope and placed a badly aimed shot at the creatures back. Though probably not fatal, the shot had the intended effect- the wounded creature ran for it. All thoughts of the monster aside, Dean rushed to Sam's side, dropping to his knees. Dread crept in when Sam didn't try to sit up immediately and instead curled into himself.

"Sammy talk to me what's wrong? Where does it hurt?" Dean said, trying to conceal his worry.

"I-it bit me Dean. I think it was a werewolf, a different kind than we usually hunt" Sam moaned after a few moments.

That was enough to confirm Dean's fears. He knew the rules, you get bitten by a werewolf then you put a silver bullet in your heart, he had grown up with them. Dean felt a sudden rush of anger, why was it always Sam who was tortured in life? First their mother, then Jessica and finally the goddamned visions? The poor kid has had enough… and deep down Dean knew he could never kill his brother, werewolf or not.

Sam gasped in pain as Dean hauled him to his feet. His vision blurred in and out as he felt his own arm being maneuvered over Dean's broad shoulders. Blood kept oozing from the wound in his side, which felt like it had been injected with acid. Dean took nearly all of his brother's weight, listening intently to the harsh breathing. By the time they had reached the top of the hill they were both panting from exhaustion.

"Come on Sammy, just a little longer and we can get you cleaned up" Dean breathed.

All he got in response was a choked sob and more harsh breathing. Sam knew he couldn't just get 'cleaned up' and everything would be okay again. He knew he had to die. The burning in his side was spreading slowly like a building inferno. He leaned heavily on Dean, as he always had, and focused all of his energy on not throwing up.

When they finally reached the Impala Sam was shaking and sweaty, so sweaty in fact that his two layers of shirts were nearly soaked through under his jacket. Dean helped Sam lean on the car for support while he fumbled for the keys. Dean unlocked the car and grabbed Sam's elbow to help lower him down into the seat. He grimaced when the motion jarred his injury. Nausea welled up within him, and this time he was sure he couldn't fight it off.

Dean was halfway around the car when he heard the sound of Sam emptying his his lunch onto the dirt road, or at least he hoped it was the dirt road and not his precious car. He sighed and walked back around to Sam. He watched with concern as a thin inky black liquid spilled out of Sam's mouth and splattered on the ground. Even after there was nothing left in his stomach to come up he kept dry heaving painfully for several minutes. He felt a cool, soothing hand on the back of his sweaty neck as he breathed heavily.

"You done?" Dean asked, trying to sound as confident as possible.

"Yeah I think so" Sam rasped back, wincing at the roughness in his voice.

"Good because if you yak in my car I'll kill ya" Dean warned attempting to lighten the mood. He made his way around the car again and started it up. That was when he really looked at Sam. With his sweaty hair matted to his face, harsh breathing, and inky black residue still staining his lips, he looked like a complete mess.

"Come on tiger let's get you home" Dean said as they pulled out of the parking lot. He glared as they passed the 'Linwood Park' sign and pushed his fears down, if this kind of werewolf was different than what they usually hunt, maybe Sam could get through this. It was a night he was willing to forget.