A/N: Wow, it's been way too long since I last updated this story. I apologize. Evidently, I needed a longer break than I thought. This chapter was a pain to write - but I'm glad it's done. A special thanks to a reader for the gentle push I needed to get this story back on track. I hope you all enjoy! I believe two more chapters after this one and we will be all done!
It's been a helluva long three days. Really.
Dean let the warm water cascade down his back as he leaned forward, palms pressed against the tiled bathroom shower, thinking over the last few days.
Since Sam's final transformation two nights ago, neither hunter had gotten much sleep. Not that they had in the days leading up to it, but it was worse now. Dean's dreams were stuck on an unending loop of Sam's screams and of a panic door he could never reach, no matter how hard he tried.
Even through the spray of water, he could hear the banging of the panic room door.
Rubbing water out of his eyes, Dean could feel the muscles of is back tense with each bang, bang, bang.
Dean punched the shower tiles, hard. Sighing heavily, Dean leaned back a little, shaking his injured hand a few times to ease the pain. He leaned his head to the side to allow water to spray along his neck, loosening the tight muscles there, before turning the water off.
Mechanically, he dried off and slipped into relatively fresh clothes. Wiping the mist off the mirror with his towel, revealed a gaunt face with dark circles under the eyes.
Dean cast a long look at his reflection. He hadn't shaved in a few days, something Sam would have made fun of him for... before.
Pained at the thought, Dean reached for his shaving kit. No need to give Sam ammunition against him when they get him back.
They were getting him back.
Bobby was in the kitchen when Dean came downstairs, adding a top up of whisky to his coffee. "Morning." He said as Dean strode past him toward the coffee pot. He noted was a little satisfaction that Dean had cleaned himself up – showered and shaved for the first time in... gosh, a few days.
It was a positive sign, at least.
Stirring in a little more whisky into his coffee, Bobby cast furtive glances at the younger man as he reached for a mug with one hand, the coffee pot with the other. "So," Bobby hesitantly started. Dean ignored him for the most part, but Bobby could tell he was listening. "I spoke with Dr. Brown this morning and got an update." Dean's eyes darted up to meet Bobby's. It pained the older hunter to see such blatant hope in them, as well as fear. He hoped the good news would help. "They should have the cure prepared by this afternoon, and are then shipping it express. Should be here tomorrow, or Saturday at the latest."
Dean felt a tentative smile pull at his lips. Finally, some good news!
The smile vanished shortly afterwards. Dropping the spoon into the mug, he turned to fully face the other hunter. "Bobby, it's still another 24 to 48 hours we have to leave Sam like... this." He gestured toward the floor, where incessant banging and growls continued.
The older hunter ducked his head, crossing his arms against his chest. "I know. I know, son. But this is all we've got." Pushing off from the counter he was leaning on, he nudged Dean's shoulder as he passed by. "We've gotta stay focused, stay positive. We'll get Sam back once the cure is finished."
Dean mutely nodded. "Yeah."
The long howl from downstairs couldn't end soon enough.
Early into the afternoon, Dean wearily pulled open the fridge and grabbed two steaks and threw them onto the counter. Grabbing a knife, he expertly sliced the cellophane off, and plopped the two slabs of meat into a plastic bucket.
Trudging to the closet door near the kitchen, he opened the door and reached for the lever that opened the hatch at the top of the panic room.
Looking down, Dean could make out the dark form of his brother, circling below him, head raised at the noise above him.
The elder Winchester blew out a breath, and used the rope next to him to tie a knot around the handle of the bucket. "Got your grub here. Hope you're hungry."
He lowered the bucket quickly, hissing when the bucket and the rope attached to it where pulled out of his hands, feeling the sting of rope burn as his brother tore the bucket to shreds with teeth and claws and began to devour the raw steak.
Holding one hand close to his chest, he couldn't help but watch in both awe and disgust at the grotesque display below him. No semblance of his brother remained in the monstrous form below as he tore chunks of flesh off the bone of one steak.
He could only imagine the mess downstairs. When Sam was back, he was cleaning it on his own.
Washing his hands at the sink, Dean could feel Bobby's eyes on him. "What?"
The elder hunter paused a moment. "You okay?"
Dean slammed a palm down on the facet, whirling on the other man. "I'm feeding my brother like some kind of animal at the zoo. Of course I'm not alright!"
Bobby seemed unfazed by the outburst. "Well, better that then you trying to hand feed him and he takes your whole arm off."
They both grimaced at the reminder.
During the first day after Sam's change, they had tried to get him food through the bars at the door.
It didn't go well.
The strength and speed of which Sam charged at the door, and tore the meat out of his brother's hand, almost caused Dean to get his hand crushed against the bars of the grate from the sheer force of the impact.
After that, they had to lower the food in from the top. It was too dangerous for them to do it any other way.
But Dean hated it. It was degrading having to feed his brother in such a way. It was just one more reminder how far from human his brother really was.
Dean dropped the hand towel on the counter before turning around and slipping past Bobby, heading towards the front door. "Well, I hope this ends soon. I don't know how much more..." He paused at the door, his back to Bobby, unsure how to finish that sentence.
Bobby could see the tension in Dean's back. He understood how the boy felt. He felt pained for both boys. "I've got watch, Dean. Go."
Without looking back, Dean ducked his head and was out the door.
Dinner was a relatively quiet affair.
Bobby was up and out of his seat several times to answer the phone from various hunters while Dean picked at the bowl of stew in front of him with little enthusiasm. He had prayed to Castiel multiple times throughout the last few days and had got nothing.
That had hurt. Dean was used to being disappointed by people – but had stupidly expected that his friend would have come through for him – and if not for him, then for the fact that it was Sam that needed the help. Sam sacrificed so much – they both had. Would it kill anyone else to step up to bat for them for a change?
Dean rubbed a tired hand down his face. God he was so tired.
He dumped the half empty bowl into the sink and went into the study and sank into a chair at the desk, pulling one of the tomes toward him that he had been reading earlier.
He wasn't sure how long he had been reading for, mind drifting and not really reading the words in front of him, when he felt a gentle breeze ruffle his collar.
"This place seems to get more decrepit every time I set foot here."
Dean whirled around at the voice. "Balthazar?"
Raising a glass in mock toast, Balthazar took a drink.
Bobby had just rounded the corner into the study as Dean advanced on the angel. "What the hell are you doing here? Where's Cas?"
Swallowing a mouthful of whisky, the angel tutted the hunter. "You should be glad to see me." At the hunter's bland look, Balthazar threw back the last of the whisky and dropped the glass on the table. "Castiel is currently dealing with important matters, none of which concern you." Tapping on the small box in front him that Dean only just noticed, he added. "You should be appreciative that he even took the time out of his very busy schedule to pick up your special delivery from Canada . I hear Sam's in desperate need of it."
Eyes widening, Dean reached for the box. Balthazar deftly grabbed it away from Dean's outstretched hand. "Do not confuse me with an errand boy. I'm only doing this as a favor to Castiel- and not a favor that I plan to repeat." Tossing the small box to Dean, who fumbled it before holding it to his chest, Balthazar saluted him. "Best of luck, Dean. Do say hello to Sam for me if this 'cure' of yours works. Ciao."
The flutter of wings accompanied Balthazar's exit, leaving the two hunters alone in the study.
Dean could hardly believe he had this precious box in his hands. "Bobby..."
The older hunter gently took the box from the younger hunter's hands, eyes catching Dean's. "We still have a little bit of preparation to do before it's ready – but we should be able to administer it to Sam within an hour."
For the first time in days, Dean genuinely smiled. "Yeah. Let's go bring Sammy back."
"God Bobby, what's in this stuff? It smells worse than your socks on a hot day."
Bobby merely glared at the younger boy as he stirred the simmering contents on the stove. "If you don't zip it, I'll make sure you taste some for yourself, ya idjit."
Dean held up his hands in mock surrender and went back to the kitchen table. "Somehow, I don't think Sammy is going to drink that crap."
Scratching the back of his head absently, Bobby tossed a pinch of ground up herbs into the pot. "Good thing he doesn't have to." Glancing over at Dean, he saw the confused look on the other hunter. "It has to be injected, Dean."
Dean had just raised his beer to his lips and dropped the glass back to the table. "You've got to be kidding me. How the hell are we going to do that? We can't even get within feet of him!"
Sighing, Bobby finally turned around. "Look - I've got some tranquilizers that should be strong enough to knock him out for a bit. Once he's out, should be safe enough to dose him."
Shaking his head, Dean took a long pull of his beer. "God I hope so."
Turning the stove off, Bobby sat back down at the table. "Twenty minutes to cool, and it should ready to go."
Dean raised his bottle to Bobby and was just about to take a drink, when he heard a loud bang and a metallic screeching sound. He paused, staring at Bobby who looked right back at him with wide eyes. "The hell was that?"
Both men startled when the door from the basement rattled from a hard hit.
Dean dropped the glass to the floor in a spray of foam and glass as he scrambled to get to the door. "How the hell did he get out!?"
Bobby was right on his heels. "I don't know! That's an iron panic room door and the door at the top of the stairs is reinforced steel – he shouldn't be able to break it!"
They didn't make it to the door before it swung open, narrowly missing Dean's face as he pulled up short, the door banging into the wall next to him.
Nails scraped against linoleum as large paws dug into the floor, the massive wolf head peering out past the door to take in the startled hunters to his right.
Dean could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Neither he nor Bobby had anything to subdue him with on hand. They'd have to go back to the car or downstairs and currently both ways were blocked by an almost 300 lb, pissed off, red-eyed wolf that was also his brother. "Sammy..."
His brother's lips pulled back in a snarl, revealing an impressive set of sharp fangs.
Dean's whole body was tense – there was only a half dozen feet between them and Sam, and his brother right now could rip them apart in half a second flat if he wanted. That massive body looked even bigger up close than it did looking through the trap door, and Dean felt sweat trickle down the nape of his neck as he waited to see what his brother would do.
Sniffing the air, Sam's left ear twitched as he moved his massive head from the two hunters towards the front door.
Dean saw it a moment before it happened. Sam had crouched down and put weight on his back legs before he launched himself up and through the window to his left, glass shattering as his body pulled itself through the narrow opening.
"No!" Dean launched himself towards the broken window, catching a glimpse of his brother's lupine form disappearing into the darkness of night.
"Damnit!"
Dean yanked on the door and flung it open, running down the stairs to the ground and scanning the dark yard for any sign of his lupine brother. "Sam!"
An eerie howl echoed through the junkyard as the moon crested over the trees.
Gasping for air as he ran to the edge of the yard he called out for his brother.
"Sammy!"
A/N: I hope to have the next chapter up next weekend. I hope you enjoyed!