Chapter Twelve

Caleb Blacker stared despondently across the bar as he tore the label of his untouched beer into strips.

He just couldn't believe it. Sure, he had heard about it happening to other hunters- rookies, the older guys- but no one he knew personally.

Sam Winchester had been turned into a vampire. Even thinking it seemed ludicrous.

What was going to happen to the kid now? What were Dean and John going to do?

Caleb shook his head and took a drink of his lukewarm beer. He was glad he didn't have any siblings.

The hunter looked up as someone took a seat beside him and frowned at the sight of Gordon Walker.

Leaning over the counter, Caleb raised an eyebrow at his fellow hunter, "There's tons of room over that way."

He pointed, as he spoke, to the far end of the bar, away from where he sat.

"Don't be like that, Blacker," Gordon chastised, "You just looked like you could use some company."

"Huh," Caleb smirked, "Unless you're gonna give me a lap dance, you're not really the company I was looking forward to."

The dark-skinned hunter laughed and flagged down the bartender, ordering himself a beer.

"So, that Winchester kid," Gordon began and Caleb sighed, realizing the other man was not going to leave him alone, "For someone who's never hunted vampires before he sure knew how to slice and dice 'em."

"Dean's one of the best hunters I've ever met," Caleb told Gordon, meaning ever word of it.

"I don't doubt it," Gordon replied and took a drink of his beer before continuing, "His father has quite the reputation."

"Uh huh," Caleb muttered and finished his beer, searching his pockets for his wallet.

"Leaving so soon? What's the matter, not in the mood for a friendly chat?" Gordon asked as the younger man laid some money down on the bar.

"Not with you," Caleb told him and turned to go.

The hunter glanced down at Gordon's hand on his arm, "What do you want?"

"That kid," the dark-skinned hunter began, "Was that really John Winchester's boy?"

Caleb sat down and Gordon ordered him another beer, "Yeah, it was. Sam; John's youngest. Poor guy got must have got himself messed up in some serious shit to run into vamps like that."

SPN

Dean rolled his shoulders, trying to stretch the sore muscles. A stack of books sat precariously before the young man, all of them useless.

"There's nothing about turning a vampire back to human," Dean grumbled and shoved the current book he was reading, away in disgust.

Bobby raised an eyebrow, "Of course it won't be right out there in the open, son. It's much easier to kill vamps than to try and change 'em."

Dean sighed and rubbed a hand tiredly over his face.

"What if there is no cure?" he asked, feeling his throat squeeze at the thought, "What if I can't fix Sam?"

Bobby's expression was sympathetic, "I'm sure there's something out there that'll help your brother. We just have to keep looking until we find it."

Dean nodded and stood, "I'm going to get some more coffee. You want any?"

Bobby shook his head and squinted down at the tiny print in the tome he was reading.

Dean walked into the kitchen and poured himself some coffee, leaning against the counter for a moment and closing his eyes.

This was his fault. If he had been watching Sam he would have been ready for the vampires. But no, instead he was sleeping like a log upstairs while his brother was in danger.

After everything that had happened to Sam, it just seemed like a slap in the face for him to be turned into one of the monsters who had tortured him for so long.

The sound of an approaching vehicle brought Dean from his thoughts and his mouth dropped open in shock when he saw the familiar form of his father's large, black truck.

"Son of a bitch," he swore and, setting his coffee mug down, rushed into the living room.

Bobby, who had also heard the eldest Winchester's vehicle, stood near the door, waiting for John's entrance.

Dean felt anger swell in his chest. His father had ignored his calls for so long and now- now- he showed up, far too late to do any good.

The door opened and Dean rushed forwards, punching John in the jaw before his father could react.

Bobby grabbed the young man's arm as it raised again, "Stop!"

"What the fuck?!" Dean snarled and John stepped through the doorway, rubbing his sore chin.

"Dean-" John began but his eldest interrupted him.

"Did you listen to my messages and just ignore them? Huh? Why? Because it was Sammy? If it had some regular Joe Blow you would've come running, right?"

"Dean, stop," Bobby growled and released the young man once he was sure John wasn't going to get hit again. Not that he didn't deserve it.

"I did get your messages," John informed them, his own temper rising at the fact that his son was questioning him, "But I had other priorities."

Dean's eyes widened in disbelief, "Other priorities? What the hell takes priority over your missing kid?!"

John shoved past Dean, "I don't have to put up with this. I'm not explaining myself to you."

"Why?" Dean argued, "Tell me what you were doing in Colorado."

John turned back to his son, his dark eyes smoldering, "I was getting something that will help us destroy the bastard who killed your mother. Does that answer your question?"

Dean didn't know what to say, he was shocked.

"Where's your brother?" John asked and raised his voice to call his youngest son's name.

"What makes you think Sam wants to see you?" Dean asked, stalling.

John ignored him, "SAM!"

"Shut up! He's sleeping," Dean snapped and headed towards the staircase.

"Well, wake him," John demanded, "I want to see him."

"Johnny," Bobby interrupted before either Winchester could say anything else, "Sit down and have a beer."

The younger hunter looked torn for a moment but apparently couldn't pass up an offer of free alcohol and he followed Bobby into the kitchen.

Dean ran up the stairs and into the gest bedroom. Sam was lying on his side, his eyes closed.

Cautiously, Dean reached out and touched his sibling's shoulder.

Sam's eyes opened instantly and he looked up at his brother. Dean frowned, Sam looked exhausted. He was pale and had dark shadows under his eyes.

Dean scratched the back of his neck, "Uh, Dad's here and he wants to see you."

Sam sat up and his eyes widened.

"Did you… tell him?" he asked nervously.

Dean shook his head, "No, of course not."

"He'll find out," Sam muttered, shoulders slumping.

"And when he does, I'll be there beside you," Dean assured his brother, "Besides, you're his kid, what would he do?"

Sam opened his mouth but Dean held up a hand, "Don't answer that. It'll be okay, Sammy."

Dean suddenly tilted his head to the side.

"Um… Sam… your… teeth…" Dean stammered, trying to tell his brother that his fangs were showing and looked creepy as hell.

Sam raised his hand to his mouth and his eyes widened once again.

"It's okay," Dean assured him, "Just calm down."

Sam nodded, his lips pursed into thin lines. He looked guiltily at his brother before opening his mouth again.

Dean shook his head, trying to figure out what to do.

"Are you thirsty?" Dean asked and Sam nodded, "A little bit."

Running a hand through his hair, Dean wondered how he was going to sneak his brother some blood with their father sitting in the kitchen.

"Okay, we might as well head downstairs before Dad starts wondering what's going on," Dean sighed, "Just, keep your mouth closed."

Sam nodded and stood up. Dean's eyes pinched in sympathy; Sam was very thin and the scars from the vampire bites were clearly visible on his arms.

Hopefully Dad won't ask too many questions, Dean prayed as he walked from the room, Sam following close behind him.

Dean could hear his father and Bobby talking in the kitchen as he descended the stairs and his heart began to pound in his chest. He heard Sam make a small sound behind him and he looked over to see his brother had sweat beaded on his brow, the muscles in his jaws tense.

"Sam?" Dean asked and his brother pounced.

SPN

Bobby told John everything about Sam's rescue barring that his youngest boy was a vampire now.

The younger hunter shook his head, "How'd he get involved with those monsters anyway?"

Bobby shrugged, "We haven't really had a chance to ask him; Sam needed to rest before we interrogated him."

John took a healthy swig of beer, "I should have known something like this would happen to that boy. He's a magnet for trouble."

Bobby narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.

He hoped Dean wouldn't be much longer; Bobby didn't know how much longer he could resist the urge to shove the muzzle of his shotgun up the younger hunter's ass.

Bobby couldn't help but feel a bit of relief when he heard footsteps on the stairs.

"That'll be Dean and Sam now," he told John, "Now, Sam's been through the wringer so try not to give him the third degree right away, will you?"

John nodded but Bobby wasn't convinced. He could almost see the thousand questions plastered across the father's face.

John finished his beer and stood. Bobby left his drink and moved to stand as well, leaping up when he heard an almighty crash and a cry of pain.

SPN

Dean landed heavily on his back at the bottom of the staircase, Sam landing on top of him. Stunned from the impact, the older brother didn't move for a second. That was a mistake. Sam grabbed his throat in one hand and a tuft of his hair in another, angling his neck to one side.

"Gah!" Dean shouted and grabbed at his brother's arms, trying to push him away, "Don't!"

Sam wasn't Sam. His green eyes were oddly dark and his fangs shone with saliva. As he lowered his head to take a bite Dean struggled in vain, his brother was too strong.

"SAMMY! NO!" Dean begged, unable to move.

Dean closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable. He gasped when Sam's weight was lifted off him and he struggled to his side, wheezing and rubbing his sore neck, Bobby gripping his shoulder comfortingly.

Dean looked up and what he saw made his heart stop. John had Sam pinned against the wall, his father's forearm across his brother's neck. Sam's eyes bulged in their sockets as he clawed at John's arm, fangs snapping inches form the man's face.

"Dad! Let him go!" Dean exclaimed and staggered into a standing position.

John ignored his eldest, his free hand pulling a serrated hunting knife from his jacket pocket.

"NO!" Dean cried, and rushed forward grabbing his father's arm to pull it back.

John shoved Dean out of the way and lowered the knife to Sam's neck.

"Hurt that boy and I'll fill you full of buckshot," Bobby growled, the barrel of his shotgun pressed against John's back.

The younger hunter stopped moving but he didn't lower the knife or take his arm away from his son's neck.

"Drop the knife," Bobby instructed, pressing the muzzle of the gun harder against John's back.

John did as he was told and Dean was alarmed to see blood bloom against his brother's pale throat.

"Now, back away slowly," Bobby continued and John lowered his arm, shuffling away from his youngest.

Once free, Sam curled in on himself, one hand going to his neck, coughing from being choked.

"Sammy!" Dean was instantly at his brother's side, despite what had just happened with his father.

Dean peered at his brother and saw tears in his sibling's green eyes.

"D'n, I'm sorry!" Sam moaned, "I didn't mean to!"

"I know you didn't," Dean assured him, "It was an accident."

Carefully, Dean pulled Sam's hands away from his neck to examine the cut. It wasn't very deep but it looked painful.

"Dean! What are you doing?!" John snapped and the young man looked down at his hands, his fingers slick with his brother's blood.

"I'm taking Sam upstairs," Dean announced and put a comforting arm around his brother's shoulders.

"Dean," John said and made to move towards his sons but a look from Bobby stopped him.

Dean guided Sam into the second floor bathroom and had him sit on the closed toilet lid.

Sam's shoulders were hunched, his arms wrapped around his middle.

"I'm sorry," he muttered again, "I-"

"Sam," Dean said sternly, turning on the tap over the sink and rinsing his hands under the hottest water he could stand, "Stop it. It's not your fault. I should have known better."

Sam sniffed sadly but nodded.

Dean looked up when Bobby stepped into the doorway.

"He going to be okay?" the veteran hunter asked and Dean nodded, "I don't think it'll need stitches or anything."

"Where's Dad?" Dean asked as he took the First Aid Kit from the cupboard under the sink and opened it, finding a pre-packaged alcohol wipe and tearing it open.

"Lift your head a bit, Sammy," Dean instructed and Sam did as he was asked, flinching at the stinging sensation as the wound was cleaned.

"Yer Daddy's cooling his heels in the kitchen," Bobby told the brothers, "I'll expect he'll have a lot to say once you come back downstairs."

Dean nodded. He did not want to have that conversation with his father.

Once the cut was clean, Dean taped a square of gauze over it and turned back to Bobby, "Can you get Sam something to drink?"

Once the veteran hunter left, Dean stared at his brother for a long moment, frowning when he caught sight of the scars of an old bite on Sam's neck.

"I'll talk to Dad," Dean told him, "You just stay up here and relax."

Sam shook his head, "I should… I should tell you what happened… I should tell Dad…"

"Dad doesn't deserve to know what you went through," Dean argued but his brother shook his head.

"Maybe… Maybe he'll understand if he knew…" Sam ventured but Dean didn't think John was going to very open-minded now that he'd almost seen his youngest son kill his oldest.

Bobby returned, a coffee mug in his hand. He held it out to Sam who took it gratefully and drank deeply.

Dean looked over at the older hunter, "How much more do you have?"

"Not enough," the hunter told him, "We'll have to get more pretty soon."

Dean nodded, especially if Sam suddenly vamped-out every few hours or so.

Once Sam was finished, Bobby took the cup back and Dean turned to his sibling, "Ready to get this over with?"

Sam nodded and stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Dean and Sam followed Bobby downstairs and entered the kitchen. John looked up at their entrance and his gaze was pinned on his youngest son.

"Here's how its going to go, Dad," Dean told his father, leaning over the table intimidatingly, "Sam's going to talk and you're going to listen. That's it. Just sit there. No comments or anything. Got it?"

John shook his head and began to stand, "I don't have time for this bullshit."

Bobby stepped forward, "I'd suggest you listen to your boy, Johnny."

"Boy? He's a monster! He tried to kill Dean! You saw it-" John began but abruptly stopped when Bobby punched him in the mouth.

"Now sit down and shut up," the grizzled hunter ordered and John fell back into his seat, shocked that Bobby had hit him.

"Can you handle this on yer own?" Bobby asked, turning his attention to Dean.

The young man nodded.

"Okay, I'm gonna go get something for Sam," Bobby said and left the kitchen.

The three Winchesters stared mutely at one another for a moment before Dean pulled a chair out for his brother, "something tells me this is going to take a while."

Sam nodded and looked anywhere but at his father's face. He peered down at his hands for a long moment before he started speaking.

Author's Note:

Thanks to CanadaLover008764, SPN Mum, HELLO I'M, Mistycat, psylocke23, 3DBABE1999, Ginnylove9990, Elishab68, SamDeanLover28, Jkf340, jojospn, Ashae357, reannablue, scootersmom, sarah, L.A.H.H, BranchSuper, shahenaaz08, ESurnaturel, AlxM, Weller4ever, Kasey, purplebatman for reviewing.

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