Chapter 7

Sam had to think, think very long and very hard before even attempting to speak. He had to think very hard about exactly what he was going to say and how he was going to say it. There was no way he could relay that entire story the way it actually happened, not if he didn't want Penny to go tearing from the room like someone had just lit her hair on fire and the only available water source to douse the flames was clear on the other end of the continent. Problem was though, he couldn't tell the story at all without telling her things he just knew she would never understand or believe. She could sense his trepidation and knew exactly what to say to get him to open up all the way and tell her everything exactly the way it needed to be told without holding anything back. She knew quite a bit of the story already, but she wanted to hear it from Sam's lips. She wanted to hear it in Sam's words. She wanted to hear it with Sam's guilt.

"Is something wrong Sam?" She asked when he didn't say a word for the longest time as he sat just staring blindly at his fingers that mindlessly fidgeted with each other like they had a mind of their own.

"I don't know; it's just that what happened that weekend…" he started, and then trailed off as his mind began to wander again, his fingers finding something much more interesting to do as his teeth joined the party, teeth that were now chewing on his already nubbed nails.

"What did happen that weekend Sam? Please, just tell me," she nearly begged in an ostensive tone. She sounded so troubled and sincere yet wanted nothing more than to see Sam's bottomless pit of remorse at what he had done suck him in even deeper than it already had. "I was so worried about you and your brother after seeing him so sick and you so upset, then he was suddenly gone and you made it perfectly clear you weren't talking about it. It's obviously eating at you, isn't it?"

"I just don't know if I can tell you what happened," he replied, desperately wanting to lift the heavy burden off his chest he had been feeling for months now, if not years, but not sure he could.

"Does it have something to do with what your Dad and Dean do? Is it because you think I won't believe you," she led him, hoping he would take the bone she was throwing firmly in his teeth and run with it.

"Maybe…" he started and she cut him off quickly. The tentativeness in his tone told her she had him, and she knew it.

"Sam, I've talked to Rebecca, Rebecca Warren. I had heard about what happened to your brother from a few other people after I got back… you know, that he had killed Zach's girlfriend and that he was now dead. It really upset me to think that you had lost him so soon after losing Jess and she just told me everything to console me, and I do mean everything," she told him, trying to hide her smile when she heard the heavy sigh he let out and watched the way Sam's head fell slightly as the gaze of his eyes landed heavily on the floor again momentarily before turning back up to stare right back into her's with a look of shocked relief on his face. "I know what it is you guys do Sam."

"And you believed her? You believed what she told you?" He had to ask, he himself not believing what he was hearing.

"Africa is rich in supernatural folklore Sam. If I hadn't spent two years there and seen some really strange things, I probably would have thought she was crazy. I know better though, honest to god I wish I didn't, but I do," she answered in a confirming tone. That was it; he was primed and ready to fire.

Had Sam not been so filled with worry, anxiety and grief at what was happening to his brother at the moment and relieved at the small amount of relief she seemed to be giving him as she sat there holding him stroking his head unconsciously with her thumb, he may have actually seen through her well executed guise and she knew it but she also knew he was too consumed with thoughts of guilt, grief and fear for there to be room for much else, including suspicion. Especially considering how much he cared for and trusted her. She had been there that weekend in question, the one and only person he had had to lean on when things had gone way south and something in her tone of voice convinced him that she did at least deserve to know where Dean had gone and how that weekend had finally ended. Knowing he could tell her everything without fear of her calling the men in the little white coats to take both brothers away, he just shook his head and began talking as she began intently listening.

Saturday, December 20, 2003

Sam sat staring carefully at his computer screen, the flicker of webpage after webpage glowing on his face in the overly dark room as his fingers clicked away on the keyboard while and equally engrossed young man stood right behind him and leaned over his back watching exactly what he was doing with a heavy backpack draped loosely over his shoulder. After many minutes of frantic typing and tapping on the touchpad, Sam finally struck the enter key hard with his forefinger and turned to his excited companion that was breathing heavily down his neck, his face smiling wide as his printer started spitting out brightly colored pages one after another.

"Ok, your bus leaves in two hours so you better hurry up. There's your e-ticket, schedule, and confirmation. Dude, you are so gonna surprise her when you get there," Sam smiled even wider, knowing he would be doing exactly the same thing himself in just a few days time.

"Thanks Sam, I couldn't have done it without you," the eager twenty-something kid said as he grabbed his papers from the paper tray and bounded for the door, throwing it open wide. In his excitement to get to wherever it was he was so anxiously heading to, he never saw the man standing in the hall just outside with his knuckles bared, ready to rap on the door in the hopes of gaining welcomed entry inside. He slammed right into him, and not gently either, the impact nearly sending the new arrival to the dorm room squarely onto the floor. Sam didn't need to see a face to know where the unmistakable pained grunt had come from when he heard it, he just knew. Quickly rising to his feet, he turned and made his own way to the door, slightly stunned at who he was seeing on the other side.

"Dean? What are you doing here?" He asked, obviously surprised at the sight of his older brother standing in the doorway trying to brush himself off from his near spill as Speed Racer dragged himself up off the floor where he had indeed been briskly deposited after the collision, his heavy bag underneath him helping to cushion his fall somewhat.

"Whoa Sam, that's Dean…like your brother Dean?" The nameless young man questioned as he stood firmly back on his feet again.

"Jason, this is my brother Dean. Dean, this is my roommate Jason," Sam said, making the hasty introductions.

"Wow, the legend in the flesh. I've heard a lot about you, Dean. Somehow I thought you'd be taller though," he chuckled. Dean was by no means a short man, but between Sam's lanky frame and Zach's basketball player's physique, Dean was most definitely the stoutest of the group, the fact that he was somewhat hunched over going totally unnoticed by Sam in all the commotion.

"Yeah, well Sammy here is the freak of nature in the family, aren't you Sammy?" Dean asked rather sarcastically with one hand resting firmly on his chest as he slapped him on the back a couple times with the other before squaring his own shoulders and breezing past them both and into the room. Scanning it quickly, he dropped himself into the chair Sam had just vacated and flashed that incredibly charming Dean Winchester grin. "Looks like you were in a hurry Jason. Please, don't let me keep you from the fire."

"Yeah dude, the bus. You can't surprise your girlfriend for Christmas if you miss it. Ticket's non-refundable and you don't have the cash to pay the penalty. You better get going," Sam reminded Jason and as much as he wanted to hang around to see the man Sam talked about like he was larger than life, Jason wasted no time in leaving. Let's face it, Dean may be interesting, but a lonely girlfriend having nothing to look at but her family over the holidays had a much greater appeal.

"Merry Christmas Sam, see ya next year!" He told him as he left, Sam closing the door and locking it behind him.

"So, just hanging out in the dorms for the holidays little brother? You got nothing better to do for your Christmas break?" Dean wryly asked with his trademark smirk still plastered on his face as Sam turned to stare at him, still shocked he was even sitting there.

"Since you mention it, yeah, I got plenty better to do over break but not for a few days," Sam retorted, still wanting an answer to the question burning in his mind and feeling the need to ask it again as it had still gone unanswered. "So, what are you doing here Dean?"

"Is there something wrong with a guy wanting to spend some quality time with his little brother over the holidays?" Dean shrugged mildly as he looked away from his brother's penetrating stare. Mistake number one that Sam caught but made no reaction to. Sam never won staring contests, not that easily anyway.

"Since you hate the holidays, I'd say yeah, something's very wrong with that," Sam shot the comment to his brother before asking the other burning question he was dying and dreading to know the answer to but hadn't had the desire to ask until now. "So, where's dad."

"Not here, if that's what you're worried about."

"If he's not here and you are, then where is he?" Sam simply rephrased the question and asked it again, not liking the first answer his brother gave him, which wasn't really an answer.

"He's on a hunt in Salt Lake City with Caleb," Dean responded rather vaguely and Sam caught it right away. Sam was no dummy though, he knew how to play Dean's twenty questions game.

"And you're not with him why?" He asked the next logical question with a slightly annoyed tone. Dean never left their old man when he was hunting…never.

"Dude, I can do my own thing when I want to. I'm not a little kid anymore," he cracked back in something akin to a whine. Sam caught that hint too. Dean was hiding something.

"Mmm Hmm." Sam sounded, his lips pursed tightly together and his face set in a deep scowl as he shook his head a couple times acknowledging the bullshit his brother was trying to feed him. "Sure you can."

"Whatever…so, you got a cold one stashed somewhere for your big brother?" Dean tried changing the subject, wanting to talk about anything but their dad right now because he knew the subject would just lead to another fight between them and fighting was the last thing he wanted to do right now..

"Uh… no. Did you forget… not twenty-one yet?" Sam felt the need to remind his brother of his chronological limitations as he pointed at himself sharply with his own thumb.

"That's never stopped you before. I know you've got a fake ID lying around somewhere. I know because I made it for you, didn't I, Mr. George Alan O'Dowd," he took a turn at doing the reminding, laughing at himself for the brilliant choice of names. Boy George, how appropriate.

"Well, since underage drinking is frowned upon by the school and would probably get me kicked out of the dorms if I got caught and I can't afford to get an apartment yet, no, I don't have a cold one for you big brother," he dryly stated, starting to get annoyed now that Dean was clearly avoiding the point the had obviously come so far to make.

"What…you mean you don't make enough at the 'Pizza Emporium' to get a real place of your own? Maybe you should start selling term papers like I told you to. I hear there's big bucks in that." He chuckled slightly as he winked at Sam and threw him a nod.

"School frowns on that too Dean and that would get me kicked out of more than just the dorm," Sam retorted, relatively fed up with his brother's dodging of whatever subject it was he wanted to bring up.

"Too many rules around here little brother; don't know how you can stand it."

"Rules…you want to talk about rules?" The comment elicited an unfavorable response in the younger brother when he heard Dean say it as visions of his father's dictatorial raising of them both started swarming his head. "We had more rules than Cujo had rabies Dean and you know it!"

"Yep…and you broke each and every one of them every chance you got, didn't you?" Dean mentioned with no hint of anger in his voice which only irritated Sam even more.

"Yeah, I did. Lord knows you wouldn't buck the old man. No, you did everything you were told like…"

"I'm not here to fight with you Sammy," Dean said rather brusquely, trying to sound apologetic with his tone alone.

"Then why are you here Dean because I'm pretty sure it's not just to spread you lack of holiday cheer."

"I need your help." Dean finally spit out, knowing he'd pushed the wrong buttons on his brother and Sam immediately cut him off.

"I knew it! You're here on a job aren't you? That's why you didn't call first like you always do, because you know I would have said no," Sam nearly yelled, clearly furious now.

"Please Sam, just hear me out," Dean raised a hand to Sam to cut off the start of his tirade before it could get anymore fueled up than it already was but Sam ignored it and continued ranting anyway.

"So, that's why you're here alone, isn't it? Dad's too busy doing his own thing to help you with whatever he sent you after and told you to come get me instead, right? Because someone has to watch your back when he can't. Damn it Dean, doesn't he…"

"He doesn't know I'm here Sam," Dean's voice came out in barely a whisper as he visibly slumped in the chair, the long look on his face quickly hidden as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands, the action immediately shutting his brother's angered tap of words off at the faucet. "I screwed up Sam, screwed up bad, and I need your help to make things right."

Sam was shocked. Not only at what his brother had just confessed but at how dejectedly he had confessed it. "You screwed up how?" Sam asked, a little more benevolently now that his anger was nearly forgotten, his brother's hushed tone and words driving them right from his head.

"Three months ago, dad and I were hunting a werewolf up in Oregon. Nasty sucker. Started chewing on some high school kids at some boarding school tucked away in the woods after chowing down on some of the maintenance workers the month before school actually started. Flippin' idiots thought it was a bear or something, but Dad knew better."

"Yeah, because Dad always knows better, doesn't he?" Sam couldn't help but huffing out at his brother's constant praise of their father.

"Sam…please," Dean begged with his eyes only, needing to finish now that he had finally started.

"Ok…sorry. Go on."

"Well, there was no way in hell we could drive right up to the front door and tell them we were werewolf hunting so we had to go hiking through the damn woods. By the time we finally got there and found a good spot to camp out in, it was nearly midnight. Hell, we didn't even have our shit unpacked when I heard something rustling in the trees in the distance and by the time I figured out where the noise was coming from, it was too late, the son-of-a-bitch was gone."

"No pun intended?" Sam tried joking, hoping to lighten Dean's mood. He failed. Dean just shot him a dirty look and kept talking. He hated spilling his guts to Sam as much as he hated having to ask for his help and knew if Sam interrupted him again he would probably just leave and forget he had ever come here in the first place, desperately in need of his brother's assistance or not. Ignoring the comment as best he could, he just continued.

"We went back early the next night and waited. Waited for a long time too. I'm not sure what exactly happened but when the time finally came…I…ummm…"

"You what? What the hell happened Dean?" Sam wanted to know, somewhat concerned at his brother's constantly changing facial expressions as he spoke but not really sure exactly how to interpret them for how quickly they came and went.

"I missed the shot Sam. I took it and missed it and the fucker got away. We went back the last night of the lunar cycle but it was long gone."

"You missed the shot? You…Dean Winchester? The man who could shoot a fly off a horse's ass a hundred feet away and not even hit the horse?" Sam asked, his shock at what his brother was telling him growing even more than the shock of seeing him show up at his door unannounced in the first place. "You NEVER miss a shot Dean, what the hell happened?"

"I got distracted, ok? What difference does it make why I missed the shot? I just did. All that matters is that at least six more people are dead because I wasn't paying attention and let it get away."

"What did dad say?" 'Hmm, dumb question there Sam.'

"Nothing. He said absolutely nothing to me for three days. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing. Something else came up and we took off like business as usual, but I knew he was pissed. He never said another word about it again."

"That still doesn't explain why you're here and why you need my help."

"Check this out," Dean told him as he pulled a folded up, partially crumpled newspaper article from his back pocket and threw it at Sam then returned to his stiff seated position waiting patiently for him to read it, shaking his head up and down with his eyebrows raised high on his forehead to wordlessly insinuate the obvious when Sam stared at him with a million questions forming behind his eyes when he was done.

Two Dead In Separate Animal Attacks

December 19, 2003

Two people have been found dead in as many days and authorities are on the search for a large, rogue animal before it can kill again. Police say that the bodies of two unidentified hikers were found barely half a mile apart in the deep woods surrounding the Big Sur State Park System in California after being mauled by an extremely large, extremely dangerous animal in separate incidences. These after the discovery of three other bodies in late November of this year have authorities baffled at what could possibly be stalking campers. Sources close to the investigation stated that the bodies had clearly been partially devoured after…

(continued on page 3)

"Dean, how do you know this is the same one?" Sam had to ask, his voice a little wary.

"Trust me Sam, it's the same one. Don't ask me how I know; I just know," Dean replied, his own tone telling Sam not to ask again because he wasn't telling.

"So, why didn't you just tell dad?" Sam had to voice the obvious next question, knowing exactly what Dean's answer would be. Dean had disappointed their father, and to Dean that was worse than death itself.

"Because this was my screw up and I have to fix it myself. It's the last night of the lunar cycle Sam and I sure could use your help on this. I've only got one chance to make this right and it has to be tonight," Dean gave the answer Sam had already expected to hear, the desperation in his brother's voice pretty much making it impossible for him to say no. Sam let out a heavy hearted sigh as he stared at the piece of paper still clutched in his hand, barely making out the name of the newspaper the article had come from. His frown deepened when he realized it was the Salt Lake Tribune.

"Dean, you didn't just leave Dad without telling him where you were going, did you? I mean, if…" Sam started to ask before Dean cut him off. Dean knew how Sam felt about their father and even though he could probably go the rest of his life without seeing him ever again, he did still love the man.

"I told him I had something to take care of Sam, and since he doesn't seem to want me around lately anyway, he let me go," he answered, trying to hide how much the thought hurt him inside. "Besides, he's got Caleb covering his ass and it's not like he can't handle what they're up to himself anyway even without Caleb shadowing him."

"So you just jumped in the car and drove twelve hours on one lousy newspaper report," Sam continued questioning; wanting to make sure his decision was going to be the right one.

"I guess so," Dean matter-of-factly responded.

"What would you have done if I hadn't been here?" 'Was that twenty questions yet? Yep, at least twenty.'

"Come on Sammy; where else would my loser little brother be? So, are you gonna help me or not?" Dean finally asked then sat back and stared at his brother's pinched up face.

"Yeah Dean, I don't know why, but I'm gonna help you, but don't you ever do this to me again. I already told you…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…you're not a hunter anymore, I know. Don't worry, I won't ask you again."

"It's a two hour drive to Big Sur. I sure hope you know exactly where we need to look because that's a lot of ground to cover in a few hours. If we leave now it'll be dark by the time we get there."

"I know exactly where to look, so no time like the present then," Dean stood to leave as Sam motioned towards the door, his slow, stiff movements not lost on Sam's relatively keen 'when it comes to my brother' eye.

"Hey, are you ok?" He voiced his concern as he watched Dean's rather weary, ambling gait that had a slight, barely detectible limp to it. It was so subtle that no one but John would probably have even noticed it as he walked. John and, even after all their time apart, Sam as well.

"I'm fine Sam. It was just a long drive and I'm a little stiff," he mumbled his reply and waited for Sam to exit the room first, wanting to be behind his brother and out of his watchful eye long enough to repair the obvious falter in his well constructed mask. Falling apart would have to wait until later because right now he had work to do.

End Notes: OK, there it is, the start of the story. I'm really sorry for not putting it all down at once but it's going to be a little longer word wise than I originally thought it would be and I just need to take my time spitting out the details so it makes sense. I already know that there wasn't a full moon on December 20, 2003 but hey, I'm allowed to embellish every now and then, right? Let me know if you love it or hate it, I always want to hear the opinions, no matter what they may be.