I'm sorry Final Spirit, no wereWOLVES here...:'(

Sorry to you too, Adara-chan15, I updated extra soon just for you (even tho I wasn't even expecting to write it all til after xmas!)

That Time of the Month

Chapter Three: Furry

Sam felt the horrible pain wracking his body, stealing his breath. He felt somewhere, somehow, someone was removing his clothes. Every tiny movement sent fire lancing through his bones, and flashes of light seared his eyes. He heard himself moaning and felt tears make their way down his cheeks. A hand gently brushed them away, then rested on his forehead. He tried to push into that hand; somehow he knew it was Dean, comforting him, protecting him.

He felt Dean lift his shoulders slightly, then Dean's comforting warmth slid beneath him, cradling him in his brother's arms. He drifted a while, waiting for the next tidal wave to break.

Sam felt his brother's warm presence abruptly leave him, and he was dropped back into the sea of agony that Dean had helped keep at bay. The fire in his back and chest was agony, the raw edges of the wounds shifted with every breath he took, and each inhalation make the broken ends of the bones grate against each other.

But now a new presence, three new presences, surrounded him on all sides. The feeling of 'family' enveloped him, and their touch was warm heaven on his chilled skin. He felt them wrap themselves around his body, touching every part of his skin to theirs, inhaling his scent and marking him with theirs. The exquisite feeling of belonging embraced him along with their arms, as their hands caressed him he felt their protective and proprietary comfort wrap his limbs in a comforting lack of pain.

He felt tongues licking his neck, his back and his chest. Somewhere he felt he should be disturbed, but the feeling of being a cub in his mother's arms was overwhelming. He submitted to the grooming with pleasure. The tongue meandered towards the pain, however, and he whimpered. He felt himself drawn even deeper into their embrace, and the scent of vanilla washed over him and he calmed. He felt someone licking his abdomen, he knew it was a female. Curiously, he wasn't aroused as she slid over his groin to get closer to the wounds on his stomach, pressing her hand into the small of his back, wrapping her other arm around his thigh.

The soft play of skin on skin continued to lull him as their hands caressed him, and the warmth of their bodies pulled him into blackness.

oooOOOooo

A long while later, Sam unwillingly opened his eyes. He felt three warm, sleeping bodies pressed against him and he was reluctant to move.

A cool hand pressed against his forehead and he opened his eyes to find Dean leaning over him, looking at him worriedly.

"Hey, bro, how ya feelin'?" Dean asked him.

"...mmmm, tired."

"Mind if I check how you're doing?"

Sam shook his head.

Dean pulled the covers down to Sam's waist and gasped. The horrible wounds had been angry, red and swollen only a day ago, but now they looked like they had been inflicted over a month ago. The wicked punctures had been replaced with scars that were soft and pink.

Sam felt his companions stirring, and Dean backed off.

"Dean?"

"Uh, there's a lot to, uh, explain here, dude," Dean said as another figure stepped up behind him. Sam recognized her: she was the woman he had seen in the streeet after he was attacked.

"This is Anita Blake. She's got a lot of things to tell us."

oooOOOooo

Essentially, as Anita laid it out for us, lycanthropy comes in several forms, even rats. Disgusting. Wolves are the most common, but by no means the only. Sam had been infected by leopards. Which meant when he gets furry, he turns into a huge cat. The newer lycanthropes often have difficulty learning to control their 'beasts', as Anita called them. That's what had happened to Ian, the one who had attacked Sam. He had gone on a rampage, having been bitten himself, and with no one to help him throught the first transformations, started killing. Anita and her friends had cornered him, but he had gotten away from them later.

What she wanted to do then, was have us stay with them for a couple of months and teach Sam how to handle this new complication. Sam was agreeable, but Dean wasn't. He didn't want to 'waste time' waiting while Dad was still out there, somewhere. He finally agreed, however, after Sam pointed out the fact that he didn't want to turn rogue and start killing people at random.

So we spent two months in St. Louis learning how to handle Sam's new beast, and Dean tried to learn to accept the fact that Sam was closer to the beasts that they hunted than he used to be.

We now have a new mission, in addition to finding Dad. Dean is under the impression that if we can find the 'monster' that attacked Sam and kill it, then Sam will be OK again. Normal again. Sam doesn't know if that is true or not. He can feel his beast growing inside him more and more, filling the small gaps and cracks of his psyche, so that he is hard pressed to tell where he ends and his beast begins. He isn't afraid that he will eventually be lost, and the beast will be the only thing inhabiting his body. Rather, he is learning it, discovering it, even embracing it and making it a part of himself.

You might be wondering how it is that I know Sam so well. You could say that we know each other. We know each others hopes and desires, dreams, fears, and hungers. We know each other quite intimately. You see, I am his beast.

fin

A/N: Much shorter than the last, but I hope you enjoyed...?