Chapter 4- The Holy Tax Accountant
When Sam returned, his body was feeling very good. All his… needs taken care of. He hadn't even noticed the hunger till he caught Ruby's scent. John was furious, Sam had been gone for three hours. Dean took one look at Sam and rolled his eyes.
"What?" Sam shot at his brother.
"Did you have fun?" Dean asked, pointing at his own neck. "You are covered in marks, dude."
Sam blushed. "I got side-tracked…"
"Did you at least get what we asked?" John sighed, scrubbing his tired eyes. Sam pulled the rosemary out of his pocket and handed it over, his father scoffing at the crumpled leaves. "At least it doesn't call for whole rosemary."
Sam tipped his head but the buzzing in his body felt too good to really be fazed. John gathered the supplies and nodded.
"Lets go, Boys."
The gutted barn they stood in was covered in black sigils, all their available weapons on the table. Bobby had joined them for this and it was all hands on deck. Ruby had refused to join in this, and Sam could tell she was scared. Sam was nervous but devoid of much other feeling, the jitters starting already.
Dean set fire to the bowl and they stood on edge, waiting. And waiting. And still waiting. Sam was about to give this up as something gone wrong when the barn began to shake in the wind. A smell came next, the scent of thunderstorms and the coldest cleanest air, previously non-existent in a dusty old barn. With ear ringing pops the lights began to shatter, raining them with glass and sparks. The doors flew open and a figure stepped inside. The man made Sam's hackles raise immediately, a snarl built on his lips. The being approached slowly, almost swaggering, his trench coat flying about his legs. Gun fire rang out as they opened fire. It didn't even faze him and with a glance at each other, John and Bobby rushed at the being. John stabbed the creature with the demon killing knife right in the chest. Bobby swung with a iron crowbar but Castiel turned, catching the bar in one hand. With a tap of his hands to Bobby and John's heads, the men fell to the floor, unmoving.
Sam and Dean yelled out, Dean scrambling for the Holy water. Sam roared in an animalistic rage, his muscles rippling under his skin like some creature trying to escape. Castiel whipped around, facing Sam. Sam snarled, his teeth becoming fangs, and Castiel began to glow. Great shadows of wings unfurling gave Sam pause. But then he looked down at the still figures around the being and lashed out, sending the creature flying. The wings flapped and the eyes glowed blue, the being swept a hand out to Sam. Sam could feel the undeniable domination of this power over his own. He became worried and rushed to Dean, putting himself between the otherworldly being and his big brother. The being's wings faded out and the man that stood before them didn't look like much.
"Samuel Winchester." The voice was gravelly and deep, rumbling like a tigers growl. "Stand down. Or I will put you down."
Sam snarled, his face morphed between human and wolf. Dean's hand was on Sam's shoulder, pressing hard, and coming to stand by Sam. Castiel's eyes landed on Dean and seemed to soften.
"Your friends are alive…" he intoned, around the deep guttural rumble emanating from Sam. At his words Sam cocked his head and Dean stepped forward, a bottle of holy water in his hands.
"That won't do anything to me, Dean Winchester." Castiel said slowly.
"Who are you? What are you?" Dean asked.
Castiel raised his head high, his blue eyes locked onto green. "I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition. I am Castiel. I am an Angel of the Lord."
Sam made an odd choking noise then, his eyes wide. He fell to his knees and squeezed his eyes shut tight. Castiel observed Sam robotically.
"Yes, Samuel. You attacked an angel… if I didn't have a use for you, I'd smite you." Castiel whispered.
"Hey! Don't talk to him like that." Dean stepped in between the two.
Castiel looked to Dean and his whole demeanor changed. He seemed curious. "Dean. I must speak with you. Alone."
Dean glanced over his shoulder at Sam. "Yeah? Well he ain't goin' anywhere so start talking."
Castiel's lip curled, "Is it safe to speak in front of the abomination?"
Sam hunched in on himself, tighter. "Leave. Sam. Alone." Dean growled.
Castiel seemed to not even notice the anger and sadness coming off of the brothers. "We have work for you Dean. God commanded you… and your… brother, to be pulled out of Hell."
Sam raised up at that. "God?"
Castiel peered at Sam curiously while Dean scoffed. "God's not real."
Castiel gave Dean an almost patronizing smile. "You have a job. Your job is to prevent Lucifer rising."
The drive back to Bobby's house was tense. John didn't want to believe that Castiel was an angel. Bobby was itching to study up on Angelic Lore. And Sam and Dean? They dreamt of beaches and a year of simple salt and burns. Why did everything get piled onto them? Sam's agitation was making his demon thrash under his skin. It was desperate for a fight or perhaps a run. It needed release. With shaking hands, Sam texted Ruby and set a place to meet her near Bobby's house. Dean on the other hand was craving alcohol. He needed the mind numbing effects. So, when the family returned to Bobby's house, they split up without much talking. Bobby raced to the library, pulling huge grimoires and scrolls off the shelves. John and Dean emptied the liquor cabinet and began to down shots and beers. While they were occupied, Sam stepped outside. He slipped his shirt off, itching at his hot skin. The skin tore under his sharp nails and he groaned. It was the beginning of September so he knew without a doubt, what was effecting him so much.
He dropped to his knees in the yard, his muscles bunched up and his bones lengthened. His jaws ached and the top of his head was burning in agony. The moon rising up was a bright yellow, just like the dusting of sulfur over Sam's fur bursting from his skin. Sam tipped his head back and howled.
Inside the house, Dean's head shot up when Sam howled. The three men stood and went to the window, watching as Sam thrashed and howled. The yellow moon hanging low and purple and red sky not hiding the transformation. Dean gasped as huge corkscrew horns erupted from Sam's elongated skull. The wolf's fangs glistened in the waning light, saliva dripped from the panting maw. Sam's multicolored eyes shone like beckons, and with a roar, Sam took off running.
"What was that?" John whispered in… was that fear?
"Sam's demon form is bleeding into his werewolf." Dean provided, wincing. He had never seen that level of fear and horror on Bobby or Johns face before. "I'll go check on him."
"Wait!" "Dean!" John and Bobby shouted as Dean walked to the door.
"Oh, calm down, would you? It's just Sam." Dean scolded, marching out the door. After locating Sam, Dean spent the night on top of the house watching Sam run himself ragged. Then just before dawn after Dean nodded off, Sam disappeared, his hunger driving him on.
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