Chapter 18

The remainder of that day was spent with furious arguments between the men and Ellen on who should go on this escapade to Wisconsin. They needed a few people to stay behind to hold down the fort while the others searched out Jeremy.

The obvious choices on who should stay behind – which Sam pointed out were Bobby and Ellen. But John and Dean seemed rather reluctant. Neither of them really wanted Sam along on this particular mission.

Sure, it made sense to bring him because this was his future that was on the line. But still, it was a few hours stuck in the Impala. A few hours stuck in the Impala with his and Dean's father.

Normally, Dean still wouldn't mind bringing Sam along although he still hated the constant fighting and would always come between his father and brother just before they started eating each other alive…but under Sam's current condition, if egged on just enough – Dean feared Sam may literally eat John alive.

Therefore, it also made sense to leave Sam behind. They weren't going to kill Jeremy like Sam requested. But they did have to check him out. And Sam didn't need to be there for that.

"I'm coming!" Sam exclaimed with his arms crossed over his chest, his golden eyes glaring daggers at John, "This argument is stupid."

"No it isn't, Sam! It's logic." John snapped, his voice rising slightly, "You get overexcited – hell, even just hungry enough, you could kill Dean or me."

"So you don't trust me to stay in control?" Sam questioned rhetorically.

"You couldn't when that girl was hanging in Bobby's yard…" John reminded, his voice suddenly lower and guilt-ridden.

Sam didn't have an answer to that. He had tasted Kelly's blood after Gordon had left her in the Salvage Yard for him. And if he were being completely honest, he wanted more. As the days progressed, he had gone from eating his usual healthy foods such as salads to meat - not that he didn't eat meat before, but he never ate it so often. Now he ordered his meat rare every day, though the thing in his mind constantly requested his meat be raw. But Sam luckily still had enough reserve to know that, that was disgusting.

Surely if pushed too hard, the thing in his mind would take control again and gorge itself…starting with John and Dean.

Sam then took in a deep breath and nodded solemnly. His father and brother put up a good argument. One that Sam couldn't exactly counter because he was just as unpredictable to himself as he was to his family.

"So what do we do if Jeremy's evil?" Sam asked sounding calmer, though not completely at ease as his nerves still ran high.

"Well…" Dean answered with a shrug, "We can't kill him, 'cause it wouldn't do you much good. So we'll bring him back here."

Sam scoffed, a tight smile curving over his mouth as his eyes fixed on Dean curiously. "How do you expect to do that? If he's evil he's not gonna let you get within five feet of him…and not to mention his mom and stepdad."

Ash had informed Ellen that Jeremy lived with his mother, and her new husband. Apparently, Jeremy's father died when Jeremy was only an infant in some kind of fire. It was a rather suspicious looking fire actually, if Sam was being honest. The coroner's report said that Jeremy's father had suffered third and even forth degree burns throughout his entire body. It seemed that his father had fallen asleep with a lit cigarette in bed while his wife – Jeremy's mother was working the night shift at her job as a nightly nurse in the local retirement home.

But during the police investigation, they found traces of sulfur in the room. That peaked the hunter's interest. Sulfur meant that a demon was probably involved.

And of course if a demon was involved in that family's lives, it couldn't mean anything good for any of them. So maybe Jeremy was evil.

A small part of Sam desperately wished that he was. If Jeremy was evil, he would feel a little better about killing him. But if he wasn't…he swore he wouldn't touch the kid, and either his father or his brother would have to put a silver bullet in his head to stop him before it's too late.

"I dunno…" Dean admitted with a playful smirk meant to mask his uncertainty, "But we'll figure it out. You're gonna be okay, Sammy."

Sam kept his eyes fixed on Dean and inhaled deeply, before nodding sharply. He knew that Dean and their father would be heading out soon, and they'd be taking either Bobby or Ellen with them. Sam only wished they would hurry. He didn't want to think of their reaction if his other side decided to take control permanently while they were away, and came back to him in that state.

It would kill all of them.

xXx

John and Dean had decided to take Ellen with them at the last minute. She understood how dire the situation was, and knew that she would have to be fast acting if things were to go downhill.

Now the sun was sinking low in the sky, casting an orange almost pink glow around the farmland landscape around them. The cows and horses in the fields were grazing in their herds without a care in the world, even though the air around them smelled of manure and other bodily waste. They didn't even so much as glance upward upon hearing the loud grumble of a car engine as the lone black Chevy Impala sped down the road toward its destination.

Dean, John, and Ellen had been on the road for almost four hours and were finally closing in on Pleasant Springs. John sat behind the wheel, his eyes fixed on the road with a look of determination plastered on his face. Dean understood his fathers' feelings toward this situation…this was Sammy after all, and no one understood Sam better than Dean. But upon seeing that look on John's face, Dean wished he could play 'Eye of the Tiger' without getting his head bitten off.

Hell, it would definitely ease the awkwardness of the silent car ride, Dean thought to himself from the backseat.

Ellen sat up in the front with a tiny flashlight in her hands pointed at the open map in her lap as she silently tried to figure out where they were, and how to get where they were supposed to go.

Dean couldn't bring himself to look over at Ellen. Nothing against her, but that was Sammy's seat. Dean could recall him and his little brother in the car blasting classic rock with the windows down. Sam always sat in the passengers' seat with the flashlight and the map and always told Dean where to go. Those were the good ol' days, Dean reminisced silently.

He only hoped that Sam would get better so they could relive those days again. At that thought, Dean sat back against the seat and stifled his tears; he needed Sam to get better.

xXx

Sam tried to keep himself busy, he really did. But it seemed he couldn't sit still long enough to do any sort of research or just read or anything. So he resorted to pacing back and forth in the living room silently.

Bobby sat on the couch with at open leather-bound brown book in his lap and a rifle in his left hand with the butt of the gun on the ground with his feet. His eyes scanned the words on the page tiredly, but was perfectly aware of Sam's tension.

"Sit down boy, you're makin' me dizzy." Bobby called half-heartedly without looking up from his book.

Sam ceased his pacing and looked down at Bobby curiously before sighing deeply to calm his nerves. "This is stupid."

"What is?" Bobby asked, finally looking up from his book – his eyes now trained on Sam.

"Why did they leave just you with me? I mean if I…wolf-out or whatever, I could kill you before you could get me to the basement."

Bobby quirked his left eyebrow as he kept his curious gaze on Sam. "You underestimate me, boy."

"No offense, Bobby…but I think this thing in my head could take you if it really wanted to." Sam admitted sounding guilty.

"You'll be fine, Sam. Your dad and brother should be back by morning." Bobby assured with an eye-roll. Maybe he couldn't get Sam down to the basement in this state, but still – if it really came down to it, Bobby had a few tricks up his sleeve.

The older hunter averted his eyes from Sam's for a moment and noticed that the kids' naked rat-like tail was poking out from above the elastic of his sweat pants and swishing behind him back and forth signifying to Bobby just how uneasy Sam really was.

"Now you should get to sleep, Sam. Dean, John, and Ellen will be back by the time you wake up." Bobby promised with a small nod as his eyes went back to Sam's quickly.

Honestly, Sam doubted he'd be able to get much sleep. But he figured he'd try, at least. If he couldn't bring himself to read, then sleeping would definitely pass the time and keep his mind off his dad and brother. And it would definitely give Bobby a while to rest as well.

xXx

Finally, after what seemed like forever – Dean, John, and Ellen finally reached Pleasant Springs. It was a small yet quaint little community that seemed out of reach of other towns. It was surrounded by miles of farmland.

The moment they pulled up to Jeremy's house, Dean got out of the back seat of the car dressed in a fresh suit that he had just slipped on while still in the car. Once out of the car, with the door closed behind him, he smoothed the front of his suit out, and treaded up the steps onto the front porch.

The house seemed small, but nice for a small family of three. The house seemed relatively new, like it was built within the last few years or so. This house definitely stuck out, Dean noted as he saw that the neighboring houses and all the houses on the block seemed rather Victorian. He knew though that it was because after Jeremy's father died, his mother had the house rebuilt after the fire. And they continued to live there in the old town.

Surely it would have looked just as old as the other homes if the original house hadn't burned down.

It wasn't even eight-thirty yet, Dean thought to himself as he knocked on the front door sharply and plastering a polite yet fake smile on his face, waiting for someone to come answer the door.

No one came.

Dean glanced over the porch swing toward the driveway, and saw that there were indeed two cars in the driveway. So the kids' parents were definitely home.

Maybe they hadn't heard him knocking, Dean wondered as he decided to ring the doorbell instead.

Still no answer.

Dean turned his head to glance over at the Impala where his father and Ellen were watching him intently. Confusion swept John's features as he turned the car off, and stepped out of the drivers' seat before slamming the door closed behind him.

"The cars are in the driveway." John noted in a whisper as he climbed the steps onto the porch where his eldest son stood.

"Yeah, I noticed that too." Dean muttered as he reached into his jacket and withdrew his lock-pick. He knelt down on the fresh wooden porch, and skillfully picked the lock on the front door open with a look of straight concentration in his bright green eyes.

After only a few moments, the lock clicked and Dean knew they had access. He then got up to his feet and placed his lock-pick back inside his jacket, and opened the now unlocked front door.

John walked into the dark house first and was immediately met with the unmistakable scent of rotten meat, and decay. He coughed and sputtered trying to erase the smell from his mind, but found no relief. Realizing what this probably meant, John withdrew his pistol from his waistband and clicked the safety off before holding it at the ready.

Behind him, he heard Dean have the same reaction to the smell as he followed his father as quietly as possible.

John turned to face his eldest son in time to see Dean pull his own pistol out, and click the safety off. He motioned to Dean to follow his lead, to which Dean nodded obeying wordlessly.

Quickly and quietly, John swept through the house with his gun held out in front of him defensively. The living room was clean, and so was the hallway and both of the bedrooms and bathroom. Doubling back with Dean still behind him, John searched the rest of the house and found the smell got stronger the moment he passed the threshold into the kitchen.

He and Dean choked on the smell as it hit them like a tidal wave. For a moment, John lowered his defenses and used the arm that held his gun to mask his coughing fit.

Not being able to take much more of the smell, John reached over and flipped on the lights in the kitchen to see two bodies littering the floor.

One older heavy-set man with a brown mustache lay on his back with his wide terror-filled brown eyes fixed on the ceiling with his throat slit wide open. Blood continued to gush from the open wound, down his neck and onto the floor beneath him – pooling around the upper half of his body.

The older woman next to the man was rather plump with brown hair and green eyes, and was by far the cleanest body. Her head was at an awkward angle, suggesting a broken neck. Her wide eyes and open mouth told John and Dean that she had been screaming up until the moment of her death. Her arm lay reaching out away from the man at her side.

"Jeremy's mom and stepdad…but where's Jeremy?" Dean wondered aloud, deciding that breathing through his mouth was his best option.

"I don't know." John admitted, deciding to cover his nose with his armed hand after realizing there was no threat here.

"You're thinkin' the kid flipped and killed his parents?" Dean pondered, his eyes fixed on his father almost hopefully.

"No." John murmured as he stepped passed the couples' bodies toward the open kitchen window.

"What is it?" Dean demanded sounding almost worried as he followed his father curiously.

There in the windowsill, lay a yellowish powder which Dean knew immediately just from looking at it. But his father still dipped his fingers into it, and brought it up to his nose.

"Sulfur." John confirmed as he rubbed his fingers together to remove the residual powder from his fingers after putting his hands back down at his sides.

"Demons." Dean muttered curtly with a tiny detached nod.

I know, I know - It's been too long since I've updated this story. Hell, it's been a while since I've updated period. But I'm pouring my focus into one story at a time. This week is dedicated to this one, so let's see what happens guys. :)

Tell me what you think!