The Beast Within
- Chapter 2 -
It was an awkward journey all the way to Bobby's house. Sam kept staring out the window into the upcoming darkness of the night and Dean couldn't tell if he was lost in his own thoughts, or if he thought at all. He looked empty, almost numb and now that Dean had a few hours to reflect on everything, he realised, how worried he really was about his little brother. He was always under the impression that Sam could take good care him himself. He was strong and smart and even though he had their mum's gentle nature, he was a good fighter for the right cause. Now Dean could only wonder what he felt on the inside, after having been in dark isolation for 6 months, kept like an animal.
He tightened his grip around the steering wheel, and clenched his teeth as he announced "I can't wait to get to Bobby's and he can take that damn collar off you. Why in god's name has this maniac done this to you?" Dean quickly glanced at Sam, before pinning his eyes on the road again, trying to focus his anger on the drive. Sam slowly lifted one hand and as if he only now realised what Dean was saying, touching the metal around his neck.
"Why would he do that to you?" Dean shook his head "Son of a bitch" he added grumpily and punched the innocent steering wheel.
Sam kept staring out the window as he said in a low voice "I don't know Dean. I guess he was…"
Dean frowned and looked at Sam.
"He was what, Sammy? Insane? He had no right to do that to you Sam! I don't care what you think. Don't you dare to believe that what he did had some sick twisted purpose! You owe that yourself, Sammy."
Sam also frowned now, as he did not know what else he could tell Dean. He couldn't tell him the truth. The truth was just too awful and weird.
"I'm tired" Sam said instead and got comfortable in the Impala's seat, as he used to, when the Winchester brothers were on one of their usual road trips.
When Sam woke up again, the Impala came to a halt next to an old Camaro. He recognised it as Bobby's hunter ride. Ahead, between stacks of old cars and metal scraps, was Bobby's house, decorated with hubcaps and vintage number plates on the outside walls. Sam was nervous now. He just got used to Dean asking him how he was all the time, now Bobby would do the same.
Since their Dad died, Bobby always had been looking out for them like a second father, for which the brothers were really grateful deep down. But at the moment Sam wasn't sure how to behave in company, even though he knew these people. It was weird, it felt strange. He had been alone, by himself for months. Stuck in that dark, smelly place. Now everything felt new again and everything felt more intense. He had to learn to be Sam Winchester again.
"Sam!" Bobby exclaimed as soon as he walked through the door, the old man greeting him with a hearty hug.
"Sam, it's so good to see you again!" The old man smelled of cars and strange hoodoo potions. Sam was so overwhelmed by Bobby's gesture that he failed to react to it appropriately. He just stood there like a tree.
"You look…good" Bobby lied. Sam looked pale, he thought. His eyes, though covered in dark shadows, were red from not being used to light anymore.
"Dean, can I talk to you for a moment?"
"Yup, what's up"
"Is he really okay?" Bobby asked Dean under four eyes when he was sure Sam couldn't hear them.
"Yeeeah" Dean said making a wiping gesture with his hand.
"Dean." Bobby said.
"Okay! No, I think he is not ok, Bobby. I swear there is something strange about Sammy. But I can't put my finger on it." Dean briefly looked past Bobby, keeping an eye on Sam, who still stood where they had left him.
"I don't know what happened to him yet, but I need to find out Bobby. I am just not sure if I can sleep after I found out. Man I feel so bad. And I am so mad!" Dean said angrily.
"I know. But you have to remember that none of this is your fault, okay. Now, let's just focus on something else for a bit, okay? You boys must be starving!"
"We had something on the way, but.." Dean smiled "You know me! I can always eat."
Bobby rolled his eyes and said "I know"
Dean's smiled froze a little. "Yeah, well…uh! Bobby! There is something else I need your help with first!" Dean said pointing Dean towards Sam's collar.
Sam clearly felt uneasy when they both examined him.
"Hm" said Bobby.
"So, what do you think?"
"I cannot see how he had welded it shut around his neck without torching the poor boy. There is not lock, no end or beginning, it's just one seamless single piece."
"Huh" Dean said suprised, disappointed that he hadn't yet noticed this all himself. "Yeah, I know. I thought if someone can do it, it's Bobby" he patted the old man on the shoulder, flashing his winning smile.
"There also seems to be a pattern on here…" Bobby mumbled, squinting and pulling a pair of glasses out of his pocket.
Dean looked surprised, not because he had also missed the pattern, but that Bobby would wear glasses.
"Yeah..pattern.." he said slightly distracted by the metal frame in Bobby's face.
"Any idea what it means?" Dean said.
"Not without getting a closer look. I happen to have a new diamond cutter. It might just do the trick."
"Excellent!" Dean said and patted Sam's back, who wasn't sure if he was okay with this. They both could be a right pair of butchers sometimes.
The operation "collar-removal" included the following: A diamond cutter, which had a small rotating blade and looked like something a dentist might use, a strip of Kevlar fabric squeezed through the collar, to protect Sam's skin from any accidents, lots of cursing (mainly by Bobby who was using the cutter tool and had a though time grinding through the unusually hard metal), 3 tequila shots (2 of which were for Dean) and 4 strong arms pulling the metal ring open, bending it as much as possible, so they could get it off. It was a very long and exhausting operation and Dean was proud that his little brother sat through it all without major complications. Dean probably had no idea, how worried Sam really was.
After the successful operation, the old boy was still energetic enough to cook them all a simple dish Bobby used to cook for himself and his wife when she was still alive. He enjoyed seeing how the orphan boys usually wolfed down his home cooked food as soon as it hit the table, but tonight, only Dean was wolfing, Sam seemed to struggle a bit with the cutlery.
They both noticed, but neither Bobby not Dean wanted to point it out, or bug Sam with any more questions.
After the dinner, Dean helped Bobby dry the dishes and Sam was parked on the sofa in front of the TV broodingly staring at the flickering images. The cold light of the TV engulfed Sam in strange shadows that seemed to dance around him.
Bobby and Dean were talking about him again. They were sure that he couldn't here them, as earlier in the hall, but Sam was able to listen through the noise of the TV and filter between the different sounds.
Dean again stated his concern and compassion for his little brother, which made Sam feel uneasy and somehow guilty that he had become such a burden for Dean and the main focus of his concerns. Dean was very angry inside, about what the old whack-job had done to Sam and he could sense his inner rage beyond the subtle undertone in his voice.
Bobby also was worried, but in a different way. More like a father. Full of sorrow, but less preoccupied with what had happened, but more interested in finding a way to deal with the situation now. Guiding Dean in helping Sam to get better.
Sam didn't pay attention to the TV, but kept thinking about what the old man had said. How he kept calling Sam names, calling him "a beast", a dangerous animal that had to be kept locked away if they wanted to prevent the apocalypse.
Sam played through the images in his head, until Dean suddenly appeared next to him, asking him if he was tired and wanted to go to bed.
Sam nodded and got up. He knew where the guestroom was, that Bobby kept available for the brothers, but he still waited for Dean to lead the way.
Bobby had enough rooms, but only one was dressed as a guestroom. The rest were used as storage for books and lots of supernatural bits and pieces, and of course weapons.
The guestroom contained two old metal framed beds, one put against one wall, the other one next to the window, between them a chest of drawers used as a night stand.
The old bed was squeaking when Sam sat down.
Dean had brought their luggage in and he wished Sammy a good night as he crawled into his bed by the window. He could feel that Sam just sat there for a while, on the edge of the bed, staring into the Antarctic distance, unaware that Sam was despairing over the possibility of an apocalypse dawning on them soon.