Chapter Ten

Author's Note: The description I have for Sam's transformation (Spoiler Alert!) is kind of graphic and might be disturbing to some. I don't know how strong your stomachs are. It is based on the werewolves from the movie Van Helsing, if any of you have seen it, just to give you an idea. I liked this style of transformation the best because it reminded me of how the shape-shifters in the show change from one form to another.

Two days before the full moon, a package arrived at Bobby's house from Alaska. The grizzled hunter carried the large, brown-paper wrapped package into the kitchen and set it down on the table.

Sam and Dean were eating breakfast and they eagerly shoved their plates away so that Bobby knew he had their full attention.

"Where's John?" The hunter asked before he even opened the box.

Dean shrugged, "Went out for a walk a half an hour ago."

Bobby nodded. Johnny was probably in the forested area behind the Salvage Yard, trying to clear his head and think things over.

"Should someone go get him?" Sam asked, sitting on his knees on his chair to get a better look at the plain brown box that would hopefully contain something that would help him.

"See how fast you can find him, Sammy," Dean suggested with a smirk.

The younger boy opened his mouth to protest- he didn't want to miss anything- but then nodded and slid off his chair.

The two older hunters listened to the teen's sneakers pound against the hardwood floor as he ran through the living room and the loud clatter as the screen door slammed shut behind him.

Dean turned his hazel eyes onto Bobby's grey ones, "Think we should open it? There might be something in it-"

Bobby shook his head, "Yer brother's not a child, Dean. You know that. He hasn't been ever since he found out about monsters."

The younger man lowered his head, "Yeah, I know."

He couldn't help but think back to that night when Sam had asked him about monsters, seemingly out of the blue, and then confessed to having read their father's journal. No, Sam certainly wasn't a little kid anymore but that didn't mean Dean didn't want to protect him any less. Whether Sam was fourteen or forty, he would always be Dean's baby brother.

Dean glanced up at the sound of muffled speaking and footfalls coming towards the house.

Sam and John were back already!

The young man glanced at his watch and saw that only five minutes and passed since his brother had practically sprinted from the room to fetch their Dad.

Sam entered the kitchen first, rolling his eyes at Dean's shocked expression.

"Dad was at the end of the driveway," he muttered and took his seat again.

John didn't come into the kitchen but stood in the doorway, arms crossed and a curious though worried look on his face.

Bobby grabbed a knife from the drawer and sliced through the tape and paper, opening the box slowly.

Sam and Dean leaned forward, trying to peer inside.

The grizzled hunter reached in and pulled out a palm-sized box. Lifting the lid, Bobby set the box down on the table and didn't look at it again.

"Silver bullets," he told the small family and turned his attention to the package again.

Dean, too excited to wait for Bobby, reached towards the brown-paper wrapped package but the veteran hunter slapped his hand away.

"What was that for?" Dean complained, glaring at Sam when his brother sniggered.

"Hands out until I know none of this stuff's dangerous," Bobby told him, "Marty's a good hunter but he's a few fries short of a Happy Meal."

Dean grabbed the back of Sam's neck and pulled him into a sitting position so he wasn't as close to the box.

Next, Bobby pulled out a silver bear-trap. Sam blanched at the sight of it and sat back in his chair.

"Sammy? You okay?" Dean asked and wrapped an arm around his younger brother's shoulders.

Sam nodded, "Yeah… Fine… It's just… wow."

Bobby held the trap out and John took it from the older man.

"We won't be needing that," the veteran hunter said and the father nodded.

Clearing his throat, Bobby peered into the box before picking out the next item. He frowned when he pulled out a handful of opalescent stones. Curious, he set them on the table.

"What are those?" Dean asked, touching one of the stones with his finger.

"Looks like moonstones," Sam said and reached out to take one of them.

"Careful-" John cautioned but his youngest was already studying the small stone in his palm. Suddenly his hissed in pain and flung the stone away; it ricocheted off the table and onto the floor, rolling beneath the oven.

"Sammy!" Dean exclaimed and grabbed his brother's hand, frowning worriedly at the burn already starting to blister on his sibling's hand.

"C'mon," the older brother murmured, "Let's get that fixed up."

He led Sam out of the room, glancing at the moonstones from over his shoulder.

John stepped further into the room and set the trap on the table. He picked up one of the stones and examined it.

"Like salt for ghosts," the father muttered, "Or holy water on demons."

"There's one more thing Marty's sent," Bobby grumbled, brining John from his thoughts.

With a clanking, grinding sound, the veteran hunter brought a chain and shackles from the box.

"Silver," he announced, unsurprised.

"Is that it?" John asked and peered into the nearly empty package, "No, there's a letter."

He grabbed the piece of paper and held it out to Bobby. The grizzled hunter took it and scanned its contents.

"How nice," he rumbled, "Marty's added instructions on how to use all this."

John looked at the array on the table curiously.

"I didn't know werewolf hunting was so involved."

Bobby shrugged, "It is when you've got a pandemic I guess. Alaska, werwolf capital of the country."

John picked up the bear trap again.

"Seems more like your friend is concerned with torturing them than simply killing them."

The older hunter scratched his head through his baseball cap and sighed, "There's a few of 'em out there who're like that."

John nodded. He didn't understand why though. It was much less messy and more efficient to eliminate the monsters. Why torture them? John didn't even think that he would have to gall to do more than exterminate the monster who had killed his Mary. He wanted it dead; end of story.

Shaking his head, he looked up at Bobby.

"What can we use to help Sam?"

SPN

Sam sat on the closed lid of the toilet seat and allowed Dean to smear ointment over the burn on his palm and then wrap gauze around his hand.

"That feel better?" Dean asked as he packed up the First-Aid Kit.

"Yeah," Sam muttered. His hand throbbed, the pain deep and fiery.

"You alright, Sammy?" Dean asked and Sam looked up to see his brother's face tight with concern.

The teen nodded, "Why?"

Dean shrugged, "Just… that stuff Bobby's friend sent…"

"I can handle it, Dean," Sam snapped, "I'n not a baby!"

Startled, Dean took a step back, "I didn't say you were, Sam. I just thought-"

"Well stop thinking!" Sam snarled and stood up, flinging open the bathroom door and storming out into the hallway.

Stomping up the stairs, Sam headed to the bedroom he shared with his brother and slammed the door shut. Flinging himself onto his bed, Sam glared at the headboard.

SPN

Dean didn't leave the bathroom right away. He took a seat on the toilet lid and rubbed his hand over his face. He'd only been trying to help his brother and Sam had bitten his head off for no reason.

He's just stressed, Dean told himself; stressed and scared.

He didn't blame Sam either, for lashing out; he would probably do the exact same thing if he had been in his brother's position.

Sighing, he left the bathroom and made his way to the kitchen where his father and Bobby were.

W

"Sammy?" Dean called and rapped his knuckles on the bedroom door, "I brought you something to eat. You hungry?"

There was no response so Dean opened the door an inch and peered into the room. Sam was lying on his stomach on his bed, fast asleep.

Dean approached his brother and shook Sam's shoulder gently. The younger man blinked owlishly, nose twitching as he caught the scent of food.

"Thought you might like something other than bacon for a change," Dean held out the bowl of cooked ground beef to his brother and Sam sat up.

"Thanks Dean," he muttered, his expression sheepish.

Dean took a seat on his bed across from Sam and watched as his brother began to gobble the meat, eating with his hands.

"Dean?" Sam spoke up from around a mouthful.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry," Sam swallowed and continued, "About earlier."

"Don't worry about it," Dean told him, waving the apology away.

Sam shook his head, stopped eating, "No, I shouldn't have yelled at you like that."

Dean's expression softened, "I know your scared, Sammy. That's okay; I am too."

Sam looked up at Dean and his heart almost broke. His younger brother's eyes were watery and red, "What's going to happen to me, Dean?"

"I don't know, Sammy," Dean answered his brother truthfully.

"But what I do know," he continued, his voice stern, "Is that nothing bad will happen because I won't let it."

Sam smiled gratefully at his brother and continued on with his meal.

SPN

Sam lay awake in bed, listening to his heart race in his chest. Today- or rather tonight- was the full moon. Sweat beaded on his brow and plastered his hair to his head. He didn't want to do this, he couldn't do this.

But he had no choice.

He would turn.

Sam closed his eyes and tried to calm down but it seemed impossible at this point.

Sitting up, Sam looked over at his brother sleeping in the other bed. Dean, who normally looked so relaxed when he slept, was anything but. His brow was furrowed and he was frowning.

Sam remained where he was, hands clasped between his knees, watching his brother until Dean woke up.

The older boy stretched and yawned widely before sitting up, his gaze immediately drawn to his younger sibling.

"Sammy? What's wrong?"

"The moon," Sam muttered, "It's the full moon tonight, Dean."

"Shit," he heard his brother swear and looked up when Dean stood up and crossed the short space between the beds to sit beside him.

"I'll be okay, Sammy," Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulders, "Bobby and Dad and I will make sure everything's alright."

Sam nodded, his eyes burning with tears. He rubbed gently at the bandage on his hand- the burn still hurt- and sighed shakily.

"What do ya say I make you the biggest, best breakfast ever?" Dean asked, saying the exact same thing he used to do when Sam had been a little kid and upset that John hadn't come home, or was nervous about the first day at a new school or just sad.

Sam smiled a little, "I'd like that."

SPN

The Singer household was very quiet. All four occupants were anxious for night to fall.

Dean stayed close to his brother, giving him reassuring smiles and comforting touches- an arm wrapped around his shoulders or a quick squeeze of the back of his neck- while trying to ignore his own nerves.

Bobby and John were downstairs, making preparations for the evening. As they worked, they waited for a call from Abigail Noonan, praying for some miracle cure to come through.

SPN

Sam's dinner churned sourly in his stomach as he followed Dean and Bobby down to the basement, feeling like a man on his way to the gallows pole.

"I'll be with you the entire time," Dean assured him.

"You don't have to, Dean," Sam tried to argue, "I don't want you to see-"

"Dude, I gave you baths when you were little," Dean joked, "There's nothing I haven't seen before."

Sam only scowled at his brother but was grateful that Dean wasn't going to leave him.

The trio walked to the back of the basement, into a small workroom. Bobby and John had moved out all the furniture- workbench and shelving units- so Sam wouldn't accidentally hurt himself.

The two eldest hunters had attached the shackles to the back wall of the room with some heavy-duty spikes.

Sam gulped and froze in the doorway, his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

"I- I can't do this, Dean," he gasped, "I- I can't! There has to be something else! Anything! I can't!"

Dean cupped Sam's face with his hands, "Hey, it'll be alright, Sam. It will. I promise. I'm going to be with you, all night. We can get through this."

Sam shook his head, feeling tears well up in his eyes. Dean pulled him into a hug and Sam clung to his brother's arm, tears leaking down his face.

After a few moment, Dean released Sam and stepped into the room.

"C'mon Sammy," he urged.

Sam hesitated for a moment before entering the room. He was glad his Dad wasn't here to see him crying. Before letting him go downstairs, John had pulled Sam aside and given him a hug- which surprised Sam- and told him to remember that it wasn't going to stay like this forever, that he and Bobby were going to fix things.

Sam wiped his face with his sleeve and looked down at the shackles. They glinted like liquid mercury in the yellow light of the overhead bulb.

Bobby gave him a sympathetic look, "Son, you ready?"

Sam swallowed thickly and nodded.

"Alright, Sammy," Dean announced, "Strip down to your birthday suit."

Sam looked at his brother, "Why?"

He felt heat rush into his face and he was sure he was blushing.

"Sam, if you change with your clothes on you'll ruin them," Bobby explained gently.

"Oh," Sam whispered. He guessed it made sense but he didn't want to take his clothes off. This situation was bad enough without this.

"I can leave if it'll make you feel better," Bobby suggested.

Sam nodded and bit his lip, "Sorry."

The older hunter shook his head, "Dean will take care of ya."

Handing Dean the keys to the shackles, Bobby left the room, closing the door after himself.

Sam watched his brother check his watch anxiously.

"Want me to turn around?" Dean asked and Sam nodded sheepishly.

Thankful that his older brother didn't make a big deal about it, Sam waited until Dean was facing the wall before taking his clothes off until he was standing in his boxers.

"Those too Sam," Dean told him without even turning around.

"But Dean!" Sam whined, embarrassment making him blush all the more strongly.

"You heard Bobby," Dean said bluntly.

Sam sighed and slipped his boxers off, feeling very exposed. He shivered in the cold air.

Dean turned around and took a blanket from the backpack he had brought with him, draping it over Sam's shoulders.

"Thanks," Sam muttered, feeling slightly better.

Dean didn't speak as he locked the shackles around Sam's wrists and ankles. Crouching down, Sam marvelled at how heavy the silver chains were and looked up when his brother snickered.

"What?" Sam almost growled, he was not in the mood for Dean to make jokes about him right now.

"You look like the guy from that movie," Dean told him, "You know, that one where he's in jail for years and years."

"The Count of Monte Christo?" Sam answered sarcastically and Dean nodded, "Yeah, him."

Sam's shoulders drooped, "I guess."

Dean took a seat on the other side of the room, his back against the wall as he waited with his brother.

"What time is it?" Sam asked after about five minutes and Dean told him.

Sam fiddled with the shackle around one wrist. It was far too big for his arm but he guessed he'd be bigger once he changed. He hoped he would be because if he got loose he could hurt Dean. His brother had a gun loaded with horse tranquilizers should anything go wrong everyone was hoping he wouldn't have to use it.

W

Sam wiped a bead of nervous sweat away from his eye and he looked across at Dean.

Why was it taking so long? Was something wrong?

Looking around, Sam realized that the workroom had no windows and wondered if he had to actually be in the moonlight to change.

He opened his mouth to suggest as much to Dean when pain shot through his body and he nearly collapse.

"Sam!" he heard Dean shout as a second searing pain ripped through him, making him cry out.

Sam felt hands on his shoulders and snarled, "Get away!"

Dean didn't have to be asked twice; Sam watched as he backed up with a worried expression on his face.

Sam curled in on himself as his limbs began to shake and he felt as though his stomach was trying to force itself up his throat and out his mouth.

SPN

Dean watched helplessly as Sam seemed to convulse on the floor, his limbs becoming tangled in the blanket he had given his brother earlier. Suddenly Sam seemed to freeze and his arms and legs stuck out rigid. He made a choking sound deep in his throat and Dean almost ran to him. Dean stared in shock when Sam's bones began to shift- crunching and squelching- beneath his skin; the sound very loud in the small room. He felt bile rise up his throat as Sam stared to unconsciously claw at his arms, tearing his own flesh.

Dean was sure he was going to be sick. He couldn't watch this. But he couldn't look away. It was like witnessing a car accident.

Dark brown fur was visible between the rents in Sam's skin and were growing as he continued to scratch and claw. Sam let out a howl of pain and hid his face beneath one arm. The horrible girding and crunching sounds continued and Dean stumbled back into the wall when his brother lifted his head and a lupine creature- still half-human, half-wolf- stared at him with glowing green eyes. Sam was still crouching but yelped when his knees bent backwards, and he fell forward. The teen shook himself like a dog, dislodging the last of his skin- which fell to the concrete floor, curled up like burning paper and disintegrated- and threw his head back.

Author's Note:

1. Thanks to help789, Lucydolly22, cold kagome, OrionRedde, allwrong4life, jo1966, SamDeanLover28, quoththeraven5, d767468, SPN Mum, L.A.H.H, and Maybe2Morrow for reviewing.

2. Thanks to everyone who alerted, favourited or followed.

3. Please leave a comment!