so...another chappy...hope everyone enjoys...lol, this is my favorite story in the series, and I am starting to wonder if it just sucks and I am too dumb to realize it so let me know what you think...Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, it really means the world to me... bambers;)

Chapter Seven

"We gotta go, now!" Dean hollered as burst through the backdoor, and snatched Joshua up off the floor, holding him protectively to his chest. Only taking the time to grabbed his car keys and leather jacket, he rushed for the front door.

"What about Rowan?" Bobby grabbed hold of Dean's arm, stopping him in his tracks. "Thought you said if we couldn't figure out a way to stop him from changin', a load of people were gonna die, an' now ya just wanna leave him here?"

Dean jerked his arm free, and swung to face Bobby. "Too late to save him . . . he's already changed."

Bobby scrubbed a hand across his scruffy beard as he glanced toward the backdoor, and shook his head. "We can't just leave him here like this, Dean. We have to try an' stop him from hurtin' innocent people."

"What part of we can't kill him weren't you understanding?" Dean snapped, and immediately regretted being so sharp in his reply. "Sorry, Bobby, but we have to get to Sammy before Jax kills him."

"Jax? What the hell are you talkin' about?" Bobby grabbed for his jacket, and quickly gathered his hunting gear together. "Jax can barely get out of his own way, don't think you'll have to worry about him hurtin' anyone."

"Huh, I'll try an' keep that in mind when I start seein' fire rain down from the heavens." Dean flung the door wide open, and rushed outside with Bobby close behind. He stopped short, and cursed under his breath when he noticed a tall man, leaning up against the driver's side door of the Chevelle, muscular arms folded across his expansive chest. "Doin' my damn job, Michael, so what the hell do you want?"

"Doing your job," Michael gave a curt nod, and then bobbed his head toward the backyard. "So Rowan was your job? Going after Sam is your job?" He cleared his throat and then gestured toward Joshua. "Everything's your job, except for the one thing I clearly told you to do. Watch over Joshua. Wasn't a hard task . . . hell, eleven other Guardians had him before you, an' not one of them got him killed. Not one of them lost him to a bunch of blood-thirsty vampires. An' not one single one of them allowed him to be turned into a vampire. So doing your damn job, I really don't think so."

The very last thing Dean wanted or needed at the moment was for Bobby to see what a huge failure he had been at protecting Joshua, and he wasn't about to give Michael the satisfaction of making him look any worse in the eyes of the older hunter. Handing Joshua to Bobby, Dean motioned for them to go back inside the house, fairly certain that they were safe from Rowan as long as Michael was around. Once they were gone, Dean turned back to face the archangel, and his anger ignited. He knew he had made some mistakes along the way, but also knew that Joshua turning into a vampire was definitely not one of them, and he would be damned if he let Michael lay the blame for it at his feet.

"You know, I'm gettin' pretty damn sick an' tired of you findin' fault with every freakin' thing I do." He hitched a thumb over his shoulder, and continued, "An' you know what, I did try to help Rowan . . . an' I just can't find it in myself to feel sorry about it. So, if I'm gonna be damned to Hell for it, then just get it over with now cause the way I see it, if Jax kills Sam we're all pretty much screwed anyway."

Michael was silent for a moment as he stared directly into Dean's eyes, and to Dean it seemed as if the angel was reading his thoughts, searching for something that would make it okay to send him to Hell, but then the Archangel unexpectedly smiled. "I saw you give Rowan some of your blood."

"So what about it?" Dean said defensively, certain Michael was about to read him the riot act for helping Rowan.

"Compassion for the enemy," Michael stated simply as he pushed away from the car and came to stand directly in front of Dean. "And instead of trying to make a deal to save Joshua, you went to a church seeking answers."

"Just couldn't make another deal."

"No, you went there because you finally realized that some things are just out of your hands." He paused for a moment and looked at Dean, and again it seemed as if he were searching out Dean's thoughts. "You may not realize it, Dean, but you are changing. You're becoming everything you need to be . . . everything that He needs you to be." He bobbed his head toward the heavens.

"Really don't think I've changed at all," Dean countered, not liking how the angel made it sound as if he had been judged and was found to be sorely lacking before Joshua came into his life. "The way I see it, I'm just doing what I've always done. Only thing now is that I've got the added bonus of havin' you on my back to tell me how I've screwed everything up along the way."

"So you regret your friendship with Rowan?"

"Didn't say that."

"But yet you're just ready to walk away from him now when he needs you the most. Would he have done that to you?"

"It's too late, he's already changed," Dean muttered, and was somewhat surprised how broken-hearted that one statement made him feel.

"I didn't ask if it was too late to save him . . . asked if he would have done that to you?"

Dean recalled the day that Rowan found him at the church after Joshua had died, and how the vampire had vowed that he wouldn't give up until he'd somehow saved Dean from Hell. There wasn't a doubt in Dean's mind that the vampire would have done exactly as he said, and a churning surge of guilt rumbled through body.

"No, he wouldn't have," Dean conceded with a deep groan, "but for what it's worth, I think if I had more time, I think I could've save him."

Michael gave a nod of understanding. "But what about faith, Dean? How much faith do you have in your friendship with Rowan? An' do you honestly believe you would've had enough faith in yourself to save him without the help of Sam or your father?"

"All comes back to faith with you doesn't it?"

"Course it does," Michael said with a smile, "now answer the question. If I could give you more time, could you save Rowan or not?" There was an eagerness in the angel's tone that gave Dean pause to wonder why he should be so concerned over the well-being of a vampire, and especially Rowan, who up until this point, he had seemed to loathe.

"Why this sudden interested in saving Rowan?" Dean eyed the angel suspiciously, "you've never given a rat's ass about him before, an' now all of the sudden the big push to save his miserable life. Tell me what's changed?" The grin slid from Michael face as he stood silently, staring at Dean. Shifting uncomfortably under such close scrutiny, Dean lowered his head and took several backward steps. "There has to be a reason why you want me to save him."

"You need Rowan to save Jax," Michael reluctantly admitted after several very long seconds. "You don't save Rowan, an' it causes one huge ripple effect. Joshua suffers, Jax suffers, and everyone you've ever known or cared about dies. So tell me this, Dean? How far and to what depths of Hell are you willing to travel through to save whatever goodness is left in this world? Because that's exactly what I am asking you to do, an' if you don't think you're up to the job then you've pretty much damned everyone all to hell."

"Huh, could've just said I needed to save Rowan to save Sam, an' I would've went for it," Dean chuckled weakly, "but I guess bein' an Archangel an' all, you just had to go for the whole fire and brimstone dramatic flare, didn't ya?"

"Glad you're finding the humor in this, Dean, now give me your arm." Without any sort of warning, Michael lashed out and he snatched the amulet from around Dean's neck. Almost reluctantly, Dean held out his arm to the Archangel, and grimaced as Michael used the amulet like a blade and sliced through his skin. Once he'd cut deep enough, he pressed the amulet against the deep gash, soaking the metal in Dean's blood. "Exorcizo te, creatura aquæ, in nomine Dei Patris omnipotentis, et in nomine Jesu Christi, Filii ejus Domini nostri, et in virtute Spiritus Sancti: ut fias aqua exorcizata ad effugandan omnem potestatem inimici, et ipsum inimicum eradicare et explantare valeas cum angelis suis apostaticis, per virtutem ejusdem Domini nostri, Jesu Christ: qui venturus est judicare vivos et sæculum per ignem."

"You blessed my blood?" Dean asked, somewhat in shocked awe as he watched the blood drip from his arm to splatter on the gravel. "Why?"

"From the way I can see it, my blessing your blood makes it just about as pure as your gonna get for now," Michael explained as he handed the amulet back to Dean. "An' the power from your amulet will protect you to a certain extent — "

"Wait — you're hoping that he'll bite me," Dean said in a breathy rush, horrible understanding dawning on him. "You think that if he does, it will reverse whatever's happening to him long enough that we can get to Jax, don't you?"

"No, you're going to let him bite you, and let me make this abundantly clear to you," Michael eyed Dean as he folded his arms across his chest, "his blood doesn't need to mingle with yours to turn you into a vampire. If he does bite you, you will turn."

"You're askin me to . . . you want me to . . . ." Dean shook his head emphatically, "no . . . there has to be another freakin' way. I haven't fought these damn things all my life just to allow myself to become one of them now."

"Forgive me, did I make that sound as if you had a choice in the matter," Michael replied sarcastically, not showing the slightest remorse for what he was asking Dean to do. "Because you will do exactly as I told you to do, Dean."

"An' if I say no?"

Michael shrugged, then turned and strode away from Dean, calling back over his shoulder. "Without so much as batting an eye, you sold your soul to save Sam. Your brother is only one man, Dean. I'm talking about millions upon millions of men, women and children . . . so, let me tell you what, you do what you think is best, an' as the body count starts to rise, I'll try to do my damnedest to remember that you had moral objections to doing what I asked of you."

Dean stood there for several seconds, watching Michael's retreating form, guilt eating away at his insides as he weighed his options. He opened his mouth to argue, to find some reason why he shouldn't do as Michael had asked, but the angel had laid on the guilt so thick it was nearly suffocating Dean, and he knew in his heart that he couldn't say no.

"What if it doesn't work?" Dean called out to Michael, stopping the angel dead in his tracks. "What if he bites me an' I turn into a freakin' vampire, but nothing changes?"

Michael swung back to look Dean in the eyes, and a smirking grin briefly crossed his features. "Well, then I'll admit I was wrong an' that it was a bad idea to begin with."

"Oh, well in that case, let me just run right back there an' get my freakin' neck chewed off, cause God only knows how freakin' much I want to hear you admit you were wrong about something."

"Huh, that sounds a bit like sarcasm, Dean," Michael chuckled, "good to know that you've kept you're witty sense of humor about things." He gestured toward the backyard, and let out another short laugh. "Better get back there, think he's waiting for you."

"You really suck, you know that right?" Dean grumbled as he turned on his heel and headed toward the back of the salvage yard. "An' I hope you know, if this doesn't work, the first person I'm comin' after is you. Michael, the Archangel vampire, has a real nice sounding ring to it, doesn't it?"

Dean stopped short when he came around the side of the house and noticed Rowan stalking back and forth, with fists tightly clenched, like a wild caged animal ready to strike. Low vicious growls reached Dean's ears, and he immediately took several backward steps. Sweat began to bead on his forehead and the nape of his neck, as a shiver of fear coursed its way down his spine. Can't do this . . . can't freakin' do this . . . damn it, what if Michael's wrong? What if I do this and it doesn't work, what's to stop him from going after Jay and Bobby? What if I turn and go after them? This is so definitely a bad freakin' idea.

"What the hell are you still doin' here, Dean?" Rowan snarled as he strode to where Dean was standing. His fists clenched even tighter as he shuddered, another fierce growl erupting from his lips. "You must really want to die. Either that or you're extremely stupid an' think you still can save me."

Dean swallowed hard, trying to quell his trembling nerves, and slow his rapidly beating heart. Narrowing his eyes on the vampire, he scowled, and took several steps forward so that they were standing face to face. "Naw . . . jus' wanted to see how pathetic you really are. An' I have to say, I'm not disappointed. There was no way in hell you were ever gonna be saved. You're totally freakin' worthless," he taunted in an attempt to make Rowan angry enough to attack him.

"Damn it, Dean, stop this," Rowan's body began to tremble as he backed away, the muscles and veins in his arms and neck bulging as he tried desperately to regain control over himself. "If you think I won't kill you, you're freakin' wrong . . . an' I'll make you suffer first. Walk away now while you still have the chance."

"Heaven doesn't want you . . . an' Hell can't stomach the sight of you," Dean chuckled, "you really are the biggest freakin' joke in the whole damn world." As Rowan's face contorted in rage, Dean cocked a brow as a smirk slid across his features to mask his growing fears. "What's the matter, Rowan, does the truth freakin' hurt? Michael gave you your second chance to make things right, an' you screwed it up royally . . . you're nothin' but a sorry sonuvabitch, an' that won't change even if you live another thousand years."

"You sonuvabitch," Rowan hissed as he lunged at Dean and slammed him up against the side of the house. "Watched out for you," he smashed his fist into Dean's face, stunning him momentarily with the force of the blow. "Made sure you were safe from Lucifer," another fist connected with Dean's lower jaw, and his head snapped to the side, but still he didn't fight back. "Would've fought my way through Hell to protect you." Slamming Dean against the wall again, Rowan kneed him in the gut, and Dean's breath left him in a heated rush. "Every damn thing I've done was to keep you from harm." Rowan swung Dean around and threw him into a pile of stacked cars. A cry of pain tore from Dean's lips as a twisted piece of metal from one of the crushed vehicles, ripped through his jacket and pierced his flesh, pinning him to the car. Blood oozed from the deep gash in Dean's lower back, quickly staining his flannel shirt crimson.

Taking a deep breath, Rowan smiled as he stalked to Dean and gripped hold of his shirt. "But you know what?" His gaze turned deadly, blood-red eyes locking with Dean's as he breathed in deeply again. "I like the scent of your blood . . . can smell the unadulterated fear in it," he turned his head from side to side as he sniffed the air, and then licked his sharpened fangs, "an' no matter how hard you try an' hide it, I can hear the pathetic sound of your heart beating faster an' faster." The vampire's head dropped backwards for the briefest of moments before it snapped forward, and he drove his fangs into the side of Dean's throat.

Gasping for breath, Dean tried to push the vampire off of him as he felt a warm trail of blood dripping down his neck to cover the collar of his shirt. His eyelids fluttered open and closed as he fought to stay conscious, but knew he was quickly losing the battle. Rowan gorged himself on Dean's blood, biting in deeper, and tearing through the artery at the side of his neck. Dean's lifeblood spurted from his throat as he felt himself grow increasingly light-headed and dizzy, Rowan and the salvage yard, shifting in and out of focus. His head lolled forward to butt up against Rowan's then drooped to the side as he lost his footing and slid downward, the sharp piece of metal in his back, slicing a jagged path through his skin.

"St-stop . . . pl-please . . . stop, R-Rowan," Dean begged in a breathless whisper, tears slipping down his cheeks as he cried out in pain. "W-was t-tryin' ta s-s-save y-ya."

Roughly pushing Dean away from him, Rowan swiped a hand across his face, wiping away the blood trickling down from his lips. "You're a freakin' liar. You don't give a rat's ass about me . . . jus' another freakin' useless vamp to you." He jabbed his index finger into Dean's chest. "But, I guess the joke's really on you cause now you'll get an' up close an' personal look at how the other half really lives." His sardonic laughter filled the air as he cupped hold of Dean's chin and jerked his head backwards, so Dean was looking him squarely in the eyes. "Course I'm using the word 'lives' figuratively cause you really can't lose as much blood as you have an' still be alive."

"Th-think I d-didn't know th-that when I . . . when I c-came back here," Dean mumbled, his head lolling to the side again as Rowan abruptly released his hold on his chin. Clamping his hand down against the gash on the side of his neck, Dean peered up at Rowan and noticed a slight tinge of green returning to the vampire's eyes. "Michael . . . he — he . . . ." his voice trailed off as he struggled to draw in a shallow breath and could feel the blood rising in the back of his throat. "Bl-blessed my bl-blood." he gestured toward Rowan's now pale green eyes, and a faint smile pulled at the corner of his lips. "An' i-it w-worked."

"No." Rowan shook his head emphatically, then gripped hold of Dean and pulled him away from the car. "No, you wouldn't . . . no one's ever . . . damn it, Dean. What the hell did you do . . . what the hell did you make me do?" With Dean in his arms, Rowan slid to the ground. Very gently, Rowan lifted Dean's upper lip and pressed down against his gums, and a set of sharpened fangs pierced through the soft tissue of his mouth. A look of pure self-loathing flitted across his features as he turned his head away from Dean to look toward the house. "You'll be hungry soon, Dean . . . so damn hungry, an' then what the hell do you plan on doin' about it?"

"Hadn't really th-thought that f-far ahead." A faint, breathless chuckle issued past Dean's lips as he weakly raised his arm and gestured off to the right, "th-think there's a cow pas-ture n-nearby . . . maybe do a l-lil' grazin' there."

"Glad you're finding this so damn amusing, cause you sure as hell wouldn't be laughing when you realize that it won't be enough . . . it'll never be enough, an' eventually you will give in to it."

"H-had to s-save you," Dean's voice hitched in his throat as his body began to tremble uncontrollably. "N-need your . . . n-need your h-help t-to save Jax," he swallowed hard as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier and everything began to blur, "s-save S-Sammy. . . ."

Rowan rubbed at the moisture gathering at the corners of his now bright and stormy green eyes, and then glanced over to where he had been staked to the ground. As he looked at the spot where his own blood stained the ground, he craned his neck to listen, and could hear the sounds of Joshua and Bobby's strong heartbeats as the weak thrumming of Dean's heart grew fainter and fainter until it disappeared all together. Rowan glanced down at Dean, and a broken sob caught in the back of his throat when Dean took one last slow, staggered breath and his eyelids slid closed. Heaving a deep, heartbroken groan, he stood and lifted Dean's lifeless body into his arms. "Alright, Dean," he muttered in a breathless whisper, "we'll save Sam . . . I swear to God we will," he vowed as he strode to the Chevelle and carefully placed Dean on the passenger's seat and slammed the door shut. "An' I swear on my life, I'll fix what I've done to you . . . I won't let you live like this . . . I just won't." Rubbing his eyes, he brushed away the tears slipping down his cheeks as he slid behind the wheel of the car, and then cast a sidelong glance in Dean's direction. "How could you do this to yourself, Dean . . . an' how the hell am I supposed to live with what I've done?"

Rifling through Dean's pockets, Rowan found the car keys, and started the car, revving the engine several times before he peeled out of the driveway and headed toward Las Vegas with a glint of pure determination in his eyes. "Killeon wants a freakin' war . . . good, cause I'm gonna bring so much damn Hell down on him that he'll be prayin' to God that I'll jus' kill him an' get it over with."

Chapter End Notes:

so, i have to say that i really loved writing this chapter... I just love the thought of Dean becoming a vampire...how freakin' sexy is that!! Hope that in someway i have surprised or shocked you...thanks again for reading!! bambers;)Latin blessing sited from Wikipedia...

Exorcizo te, creatura aquæ, in nomine Dei Patris omnipotentis, et in nomine Jesu Christi, Filii ejus Domini nostri, et in virtute Spiritus Sancti: ut fias aqua exorcizata ad effugandam omnem potestatem inimici, et ipsum inimicum eradicare et explantare valeas cum angelis suis apostaticis, per virtutem ejusdem Domini nostri Jesu Christ: qui venturus est judicare vivos et mortuos et sæculum per ignem.

(I exorcise thee in the name of God the Father almighty, and in the name of Jesus Christ His Son, our Lord, and in the power of the Holy Ghost, that you may be able to put to flight all the power of the enemy, and be able to root out and supplant that enemy and his apostate angels; through the power of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will come to judge the living and the dead and the world by fire.)