It was getting worse. Sam sunk deeper into the tub, allowing the water to rise up to his nose. The cold water wasn't helping him anymore, his skin was still burning up and he could only stay in the tub for so long before Dean was knocking and asking if he were all right and telling him he really needed to get laid instead of jerking off in the bathroom. There was a part of Sam that wished it were that simple. There were times when he was fine, but other times, it hurt to even move.

He sat up and tugged on the drain to let some water escape before replacing it and turning on the full blast of the cold water. He held his hand under the flow, feeling more heat than he did cold. Disgusted, he switched it off and pulled the plug, standing and snatching a towel from the rack. One step out the tub and pain shot up his leg, keeling him over and bringing him down to the floor curled in a ball. A second later, the pain split up, running through every nerve, every bone in his body, making his body rigid and every movement feel like his skin was splitting and peeling from his body. The notion to just grab chunks of his flesh, grab it and pull it right off sounded really good to him. But the pain kept him from moving.

Sam bit his lower lip, trying to hold back the scream that was building up in the back of his throat, but fear kept it back. Fear that Dean would burst through the door and find him on the floor in pain. Fear that one look at Sam and he'd realize what was wrong with him, what he was turning into. Sam didn't need to look in the mirror to know what his eyes looked like - they had been turning yellowish in color ever since…

"Oh God!" Sam bit his lip again - wincing when he found his teeth sharpened - and grunted, reaching up to grab hold of the cabinet knob, but stopped when he caught sight of his arm and hand. Thick hair had sprouted up to his fingertips, his nails pointed and sharp. There was a wet snapping sound going on inside him followed by more pain as his legs rearranged themselves. He rolled over onto his stomach as his knees snapped and jutted out other way round, his muscles stretching-straining-flexing under his skin.

A knock at the door made him slam his hand against the tiled floor as a low growl settled in his throat.

"Sam, you all right in there?" There was genuine concern in Dean's voice, Sam could hear it. Sam opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when he noticed Dean's scent wafting from under the door. The smell of meat, of food. It smelled so good to him that he licked his lips, his body shivering in greedy anticipation.

"Sam? What's going on in there?"

Sam watched as the door knob turned slowly, waiting.

The End.

© 2006