Chapter 10

The dark orange flames that engulfed the mill were finally beginning to die down, as the last of the screams from its victims inside had become muffled and eventually stopped all together. Black smoke twisted and turned and danced its way into the early morning air, bringing with it a stench of burning wood and death.

Sam and Dean and Castiel stood with their backs to the mill as they stared down Victor, Sam's Sire with threatening glares.

"What say you, Sam?" Victor asked with a shadow of a smirk playing on his face.

"I say, screw you!" Sam growled, flashing his fangs in warning.

Dean glanced at his little brother out of the corner of his eye, as his heart swelled with pride. Sam was actually dead! And still, after everything they had been through in the past year – hell, this past week…they were still brothers.

"I need you, Sam." Victor admitted half-heartedly.

And in that moment, Dean realized there was something wrong. He recognized that look and that tone that Victor was giving off. It was a poorly constructed poker face. Dean eyed him warily, knowing that this Victor wasn't what he seemed, and he had an Ace up his sleeve that he was just waiting to pull out.

"Go to hell!" Sam spat angrily.

Victor's smirk turned into a full on giddy smile with pure joy glinting in his eyes as he stared at Sam.

"Come here, Sam." Victor commanded, although his voice was all wrong. A deeper, more powerful undertone played beneath his command – making his voice sound as if it were coming from everywhere around them. His words wrapped themselves around Sam's mind, and pulled – giving him no choice but to obey his Sire as his anger dissipated and was replaced with a blank and mindless look as we walked toward Victor slowly.

Without thought, Dean withdrew his pistol from his waistband and clicked the safety off as he aimed it at Victor's head. The shot, he knew wouldn't kill the vampire but a headshot would certainly slow him down.

"Let him go!" Dean demanded furiously as Sam stood by Victor's side, now turning to face his brother. His mindless look was quickly replaced with a look of pure and utter confusion.

"I told you once Dean," Victor replied with a shake of his head and a look of disbelief on his face, "he isn't yours anymore."

"I don't…belong…to anyone." Sam muttered sounding slightly disconnected, as if forming sentences was difficult for him.

"Oh really?" Victor challenged with a chuckle, "Retract your fangs."

Without missing a beat, Sam obliged to Victor's command, and his lengthened fangs disappeared instantly. He tossed his brother a pleading look, which Dean didn't miss.

Without warning, Dean suddenly fired off three shots directly into Victor's head – one after the other. Surprised, Victor staggered back as a loud inhuman roar emitted past his lips, echoing all around them. Taking the opportunity while his Sire was so weak, Sam grabbed Victor's face in his hands and with a hatred that seemed to simply seep from him he twisted until a loud 'CRACK' was heard around them, finally making the loud roars cease.

"He's not dead!" Sam yelled furiously, taking a quick glance at his brother. He noticed that Dean had lowered his gun, and was now staring at Sam wide-eyed.

Sam knew his brother was looking at him like that because he was a freak. It was no secret anymore.

Anger spiked in his gut, causing him to get over-excited – and with very little thought, Sam tugged on his Sire's head and watched with sick pleasure as his head separated from the rest of his body with another 'CRACK' followed by a tearing noise. Sam smiled as dark gelatinous looking blood flowed from the gaping hole where Victor's head was once placed when the body fell to the dirt with a 'THUD'.

Sam looked at his blood-soaked hands as he still grasped the prize in his hands with excitement. He actually felt rather satisfied with what he'd done…which of course sickened him. Realizing what he had done, Sam's eyes widened as he tossed Victor's head to the ground beside his body.

Thick dark blood started pooling around the body and Sam's feet, Sam was on the verge of panic and stepped out of the large puddle hurriedly.

He had just killed someone – it didn't matter that what he killed was a vampire, but he had killed someone with his bare hands. And he couldn't just stop at breaking his neck, no – he had to decapitate the thing! With no weapon!

Suddenly, there was an anchoring hand on his shoulder – and Sam knew without looking that it was Dean. He would have at least spared his brother an apologetic glance, but still his eyes were fixed on the body.

"You had to," Dean said in a low comforting voice, "he would have taken you and started his own nest."

"I-I," Sam swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat as his eyes were still trained on Victor's pieces, "I know…i-it's just…I did that…with my bare hands."

"Hey, I know." Dean replied with an eye-roll, being careful to keep his voice soothing and calm, "But you had to. Come on, now. We gotta go to Bobby's. You can sleep in the car."

At the idea of sleep, Sam's body seemed to like that idea as it suddenly felt sluggish and about ready to drop off. Finally Sam turned his miserable gaze from the blood-stained body, and looked at his brother. He offered a tiny nod, and turned toward the Impala.

Dean sighed and looked back toward Castiel, who looked somewhat anxious, himself. He kept his blue eyes on Dean's green, with a knowing look.

"You gonna get in the car with us? Or are you taking the Angel-Express?" Dean asked Castiel tiredly as he scrubbed his hand over his face in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure forming behind his eyes.

Castiel cocked his head before replying. "I'll go to Bobby's and tell him that you'll be arriving soon. I will then get in the car." And with that, suddenly the angel was gone.

Not wanting to know what Castiel meant when he said 'I will then get in the car', Dean shook his head and headed back toward the Impala.

Once he reached the drivers' side with his hand on the door handle, he looked in the car and saw that Sam was already fast asleep in the passengers' seat. His eyes widened at his little brother, it had only taken him a minute. He must have been exhausted.

Sighing deeply, Dean finally opened the door and got in behind the wheel, and closed the door behind him. He chanced one last glance at his brother worriedly, before sliding the key in the ignition and starting the engine.

They had a long drive ahead of them, and Dean knew that once Sam woke up he'd be hungry. He just hoped that when Sam woke up he'd have enough sense to go into the back and get a blood bag, and not attack him again.

xXx

Bobby rolled his wheelchair into his library and looked through his many books, which he had laid around the room in a certain order. His library basically consisted of his desk in front of the fireplace and a large clutter of books which only Bobby and Sam seemed to understand how they were classified.

Well, Sam got it because no one else seemed to want to try to understand. But everyone knew that whenever Sam had any sort of downtime he buried his nose in a book.

At the thought of Sam, Bobby's heart constricted with grief. The poor kid, all he ever wanted was a normal life – away from what his dad and brother did. But instead he accidently frees Lucifer from Hell, and then gets turned into a vampire against his will.

Only the Winchesters, Bobby thought to himself.

Bobby then turned his attention back to the stack of books that completely consumed his library. He muttered to himself gently until he finally found what he was looking for, and finally pulled it out of its stack gently so the rest of the books piled on top of it didn't fall to the floor.

After a few moments of shimmying the book out successfully without causing the other books to topple over, he opened the dusty dark brown leather-bound book, and skimmed through the yellowing pages. Finally he came to the chapter he was looking for, and let the book rest open in his lap as he read the section about vampires.

"They're on their way back." A deep voice suddenly announced from behind Bobby causing him to jump out of surprise. Quickly, he grabbed the silver knife he kept under his good leg, and held it up as he spun his chair around to face the intruder.

Relief flooded through Bobby when he noticed that it was Castiel. He then placed the knife back in its hiding spot, and kept his eyes trained on the angel.

"How did the hunt go?" Bobby asked Castiel curiously, wanting to know what condition Sam and Dean would be in when they got back.

"The nest is dead," Castiel informed with his hands hidden behind his back and his face looking relatively blank, "and so is Sam's Sire."

"Good." Bobby muttered as he adjusted the hat on his head thoughtlessly.

"I should get back to Sam and Dean." Castiel said seriously, "Just in case Sam cannot sate his hunger with the blood bags."

And in the blink of an eye, Castiel was gone and Bobby was alone in his library again.

Bobby understood what Castiel was implying when he said he needed to get back, and suddenly Bobby was fearful for Dean. Would the bags work? Or would Sam go for Dean again?

Desperate to know more about these kinds of vampires, Bobby looked downward at the book in his lap and resumed reading.

Yup, I'm back from my trip! I hope everyone had a great Spring Break! I know I did! Haha.

My muse for this story has returned, so I decided to make my come back with this one. I know it's a pretty short chapter, but the next chapter will be longer. ;)