Chapter 3

Sam and Dean had spent a majority of the day driving through Montana trying to make their way to South Dakota to get to Bobby's. However, when they noticed it was getting late they had to pull off into a motel to get some sleep. Under normal circumstances Dean would have kept driving, but tonight he had to chain Sam up.

Now, in the late afternoon/early evening, Sam and Dean were sitting on each of their beds. Dean's phone was open, and sitting on the nightstand between the two beds with Bobby on speaker. They were discussing the topic at hand.

Sam sighed and leaned back against the headboard of his bed. He was visibly frustrated. "So what do we know about werewolves?" He asked halfheartedly.

They heard a sigh over the phone, and then Bobby's voice. "Just a bunch of the basics, and some symptoms I got from this old text book. How ya feelin' Sam?"

Sam sighed again, and then closed his eyes. He was feeling rather irritated to be completely honest. And the back of his neck was prickling. He felt the turn coming on, but he remained silent about that. He opened his eyes, and then shrugged. "I feel fine." He lied.

Dean rolled his eyes at the comment, and then rubbed his face. "Which of course means, he's anything, but." Dean said with a sad smile.

Sam shot him a death glare.

Bobby let out a light chuckle. "Well, says here that before the cursed one changes, they'll be…well to put it in plain English, they'll be angry."

Dean nodded, "Yup that sounds like him alright."

"I'm fine!" Sam snapped. Dean rolled his eyes again. All Sam just did with that little outburst was proving his point.

"What else, Bobby?" Dean questioned.

Bobby sighed loudly. "Uh…this book sorta glosses things over, but it basically says he'll be hungry…for meat."

Sam gulped. Whatever book Bobby was getting this information from was right on point. It scared him how accurate this was. He had three bacon hamburgers only a half hour ago, rare of course, and now he was starting to get the familiar hunger pangs.

"I'd say so," Dean said with a half smile, "I mean he had three rare bacon hamburgers a half hour ago."

Sam rolled his eyes. Dean was just announcing his private life, it was more than irritating.

"Hmm…also says here that some werewolves have control of themselves…in both forms."

Dean sat bolt up at that, and then looked at the phone on the nightstand. "What do you mean?"

Bobby sighed again. "Yea…I mean it's gotta be really hard to do, but there are the ones that we're used to; the ones who know that they're werewolves, and then gain a little control around the full moon. They still kill folks, but that's 'cause the moon makes them insane. It aint really their fault, but these werewolves can also sometimes tap into the change whenever they want. They don't need the week before the full moon to turn."

Bobby paused, and then took a deep breath before continuing. "Then there's the ones…like your friend you told me about. Who have no idea that they're going around killing people. Those are the ones that have no control, and most likely turn when they're asleep."

Deans' brow furrowed, "Are there any cases of werewolves that can control this thing…but don't go nuts?"

"About a couple dozen, and I'm sure Sam can do that. I'm sure he can control himself even in that…form."

Dean nodded with a solemn look on his face. "Yea me too."

Sam groaned, and Dean's head snapped up in his direction. His jaw opened at the site of his brother. His face and neck were covered with a thick layer of sweat, and his gray t-shirt was almost soaked through. He started shaking, and then he looked up at Dean.

"Damn it!" Dean swore.

"What is it?" Bobby asked nervously.

Dean looked outside and saw the sun had indeed gone down. "Sam's turning!"

Dean pulled the silver chain from his pocket, and then wrapped it around his brothers' neck. Sam screamed as the chain made contact with his skin. "G-Get it OFF!" Sam cried, as his back arched off the bed.

Dean ran over to his duffel bag that was by the door, and then started to rummage through it. When he pulled out two pairs of handcuffs, he dropped the bag, and then ran back to his brothers' side. He slipped both cuffs over each of Sam's wrists, and then cuffed the bedposts with the other end of them above his brothers' head.

Sam pulled feverishly at the cuffs, and then growled a low animalistic growl. Dean looked at his brother in shock as his fingernails pointed and grew steadily into claws. He saw how his brothers' gentle hazel puppy dog eyes hardened and turned ice blue and his pupils began to narrow into vertical slits, and then a black rim around the irises making them even more intense, more dangerous. Then there were his teeth that were steadily growing and sharpening into fangs.

Dean watched his brother turn into a perfect killing machine.

Sam roared and howled as he began shaking his head as he attempted to get the silver chain off his body. He then stopped when he saw Dean, who was looking back at him.

Sam cocked his head, and looked at Dean like he was trying to remember something. Like he's met this person before, but couldn't really place the name.

"Dean? Ya there?" Bobby asked nervously. Dean had almost forgotten he had Bobby on the phone. "Y-yea." Dean answered shakily.

At the sound of Bobby's voice, the beast on the bed roared a loud inhuman roar and gazed at the phone on the nightstand. Sam then started to buck his body off the bed.

"Get him somethin' to eat!" Bobby ordered.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Like what? I don't think they sell human hearts at butcher shops!"

"Get him some raw meat er somethin'! He has to eat or he'll starve!"

"Okay there's two things wrong there," Dean said in a cocky tone, "One, he just ate a half hour ago! He won't starve! And two, won't he get like salmonella if he eats raw meat?"

"Damn it Dean, no! His metabolism is different now…get him food now! And no, a werewolf's stomach is meant to hold raw meat ya idjit!"

Sam pierced Dean with the angriest gaze he'd ever seen on that face. He had to ignore it though. Dean made his way to the fridge, opened it, and then pulled out the pound of raw hamburger. He slammed the fridge door closed, and then made his way back to his brother.

Apparent Sam could smell the meat under the plastic wrap because now he was full on howling, and balling his hands into fists. However his claws didn't really allow that, every time his fists would ball up, his claws cut into his palms.

Dean pulled the plastic wrap off the meat, and then started throwing small chunks of it into his brothers' mouth. He didn't want to bring himself close enough to get bitten. He shuddered at the thought.

As soon as the first tiny ball of raw bleeding meat landed in Sam's mouth, he quieted. He chewed with an open mouth, like any animal, but he had stopped growling at least.

"What's happening?" Bobby whispered.

Sam's head snapped in the direction of the phone, and then snarled. Dean tossed another ball of raw meat into Sam's mouth to quiet him. "He's eating."

When Sam was done with the second ball of meat, he stared up at Dean expectantly. He didn't growl, or make any noise, he just stared. Dean pulled another small chunk from the tray and balled it up. To his surprise, Sam opened his mouth. He knew it was coming. Dean gave him a half smile, and tossed the ball into his brothers' mouth.

"Dean, I'm gonna hang up now. I'll see you two tomorrow alright?" Bobby whispered.

Again to Dean's surprise, Sam didn't even look at the phone anymore. He didn't make any noises at it. He just stared at Dean expectantly. "Alright Bobby, thanks." Dean then slowly made his way to the nightstand, so he didn't startle the animal on the bed. When he reached the phone, he clicked it shut, and then shoved it in his pocket.

He looked down at Sam, who now cocked his head looking back at him. Dean then balled up another piece of meat, and the werewolf opened its mouth wide. Dean tossed the meat, and watched as his brother chewed and swallowed the meat.

Dean sighed as he looked at his little brother. What were they going to do?