Chapter 19

Sam awoke with a gasp, his face glistening in a cold sweat brought on by a dream he couldn't really remember. He lay at an awkward angle on the couch in the living room with his left leg hanging over the arm of the couch, and his right foot planted on the ground almost as if his body were trying to sit up while he was asleep. His hands served as a pillow beneath his head, covered in his drool.

He sighed; not knowing what woke him up and folded his body up into a sitting position, wiping the drool on his hands on his gray t-shirt.

That's when he caught notice of his hands, but wasn't the least bit surprised. His thick long pointed nails that tapered into claws at the end of his fingers had actually grown and curved, looking like nothing remotely human. But when he turned his hands over, he found that the palms of his hands no longer held the grooves and lines that he'd memorized since childhood – but instead saw that his palms had thickened and smoothed out into a soft padding, similar to what you'd find on a canine foot.

A cold shiver crept up his spine, and found that he didn't even need to look at his feet to know that they were the same way.

It was getting harder and harder to hide the fact that he wasn't all human.

Suddenly Sam's head perked up when he heard Bobby's muffled voice from the kitchen as he spoke silently on the phone, trying to keep his voice low so Sam wouldn't hear.

But it was hard to hide things from Sam now, especially with his heightened senses. His ears had actually grown to his displeasure. But now the points of his ears protruded from his thick hair, making them hard to hide as well – however, because of this mutation, Sam's hearing had improved exponentially. He knew that if he were standing in the same room as Bobby, he'd hear both sides of the conversation.

"He's doing alright…considering." Sam heard Bobby mutter, sounding worried.

There was a long pause as whoever Bobby was speaking to said his or her piece, to which Bobby replied with muffled yet clearly frustrated sounding 'mhm's or 'nu uh's.

Then Bobby spoke up again. "Sam doesn't have much longer, John. I've been watchin' him all night, and the change is speeding up. You understand that? You're talkin' about a couple days worth of a hunt – if that! Maybe the demons hid the kid in New Mexico for all we know, and you wanna go traipsin' all over God's Green Earth lookin' for him?"

Sometimes like moments like these, Sam's respect for Bobby always increased. The man was ruthless when it came to putting John Winchester in his place, and Sam wished desperately for that ability. Sure he fought his father over everything, but John never backed down for the simple fact that Sam was his son.

Another long pause deafened the room, and Sam held his breath as he waited for Bobby to reply so maybe he could get some clue on what was going on. All Sam seemed to understand was that Dean, their father, and Ellen didn't find the kid and would probably be gone for longer than they intended while they looked for him.

When Bobby replied finally, Sam noticed that his voice was shaky and thick with emotion. "Well when you get back, John…there's a good chance that what you come back to won't be Sam."

Sam heard a loud click as Bobby slammed the phone back into the receiver angrily.

Sighing, Sam figured now was as good a time as any to get up and face his surrogate uncle. He got to his feet, and wobbled for a moment as he was hit with a sudden lightheadedness from getting up too fast. He shook his head violently, before heading into the kitchen to where he knew Bobby was.

Sure enough there Bobby was, with his hands holding him up on the counter as he looked out the window absently. It was apparent that he was deep in thought, and Sam knew that it was about him. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, instantly gaining Bobby's attention.

The older hunter whirled around with wide eyes until he noticed Sam standing in the threshold, and relaxed only slightly – not trusting Sam enough to lower his guard completely. Sam figured that was a smart idea, seeing as he didn't even trust himself anymore.

But Sam offered a lopsided half smile to try and ease Bobby's nerves. "What was the phone call about?"

"Your dad…" Bobby replied instantly, sounding exhausted, "He won't be back for a few days, now. But uh…Dean's on his way back."

Sam's eyes widened, "Dad's letting Dean come back?"

Bobby nodded before replying. "The kid wasn't at his house, but his parents were dead. Your dad doesn't think it was the kid though because they found sulfur too. So your dad and Ellen are gonna keep up the search for the kid. But Dean insisted he come back…he wanted to be here with you…just in case…"

Bobby's voice trailed off, not being able to finish his sentence. But he didn't need to. Sam knew exactly what he meant and nodded in understanding.

"Dad doesn't make it in time..?" Sam offered solemnly.

Bobby hung his head slightly before nodding curtly. In that moment, Sam noticed that this was taking as much of a toll of Bobby as it was on Dean and their dad. He had known Bobby for most of his life after all, so why wouldn't it affect Bobby?

"Ya hungry, boy?" Bobby suddenly asked as he clapped his hands together, obviously desperate to change the topic.

Truth be told, Sam was hungry. His stomach grumbled loudly at that moment on cue, and Bobby rolled his eyes as he went into the refrigerator and fished out the raw hamburger still wrapped in the plastic wrap and Styrofoam tray.

Closing the fridge door behind him, Bobby opened the plastic wrap and began pulling apart the red meat into smaller individual mounds of hamburger. Sam kept his mouth closed and turned away when his hunger suddenly spiked at seeing the raw bloody meat.

Once Bobby put a couple of burgers on the frying pan, and turned the gas stove on, the kitchen was filled with the scent of cooking meat. This actually aggravated Sam because his stomach wanted it raw…hell, if his will was only slightly weaker – he would have settled for eating Bobby. But as long as Sam was still in control, he would never let that happen…ever.

So Sam turned back toward the cooking meat and watched as it sizzled and cackled as the heat cooked its juices out. It wouldn't be great, but he wouldn't die of starvation at least.

"So uh…" Sam began awkwardly trying to take his mind away from food, "W-when's Dean supposed to be back, then?"

Bobby shrugged without looking up from the cooking burgers; he suddenly opened the drawer next to the stove, and dug around for a moment before withdrawing a clean spatula. Once in his grasp, he closed the drawer, and flipped the burgers over with the spatula absently and sighed.

"Within the next few hours, I'd imagine." Bobby guessed.

Sam nodded curtly, and sighed. But that's when he caught Bobby's wandering eye. The older hunter kept his head down, but would peak out of the corner of his eye toward Sam – but not at his face. No…Bobby kept fixing his gaze on Sam's hands – his inhuman and deadly clawed hands.

Honestly, this spiked Sam's frustration quickly. Of course the true hunter in the room had to keep a wary eye on the threat – the monster in the room.

Sam lifted his hands to get a better look for himself and of course saw the more paw-like pads that replaced his palms as he had seen only moments ago. Hate burned through his veins and he didn't know why, or who it was directed at - when suddenly the thing in his mind supplied the answer suggestively.

He hated Bobby for judging him silently with his looks, he hated Ellen for sticking her nose in matters that didn't concern her, he hated the Beast who had done this to him in the first place, he hated Dean for thinking he was a child or an invalid and couldn't leave him for more than a few hours. But most of all…Sam found that he hated his father. He hated John more than anything at this moment.

Here he was, Sam – his youngest son, slipping, losing himself, dying! And what was John Winchester doing? Hunting! Always hunting! Hunting came before everything in John's book…even before being a father, apparently.

"I hate this…" Sam muttered venomously, his gaze still locked on his hands.

"What's that, son?" Bobby asked curiously, suddenly looking up from the cooking food to finally get a better look at Sam.

"I…hate…this." Sam seethed between his suddenly heavy panting as he tried to keep his rising rage in check.

"Hate what?" Bobby asked, suddenly nervous.

Sam smiled, and chuckled upon seeing Bobby's wide eyes and hearing the hunters' shaky voice. "You're scared of me, Bobby?"

"No, Sam." Bobby answered immediately, "I'm scared for you."

Then without even thinking about it, Sam's hand flew out and grabbed Bobby's throat harshly, his sharp curved claws digging into the soft flesh, just enough to draw blood, but not to kill him.

"Don't lie to me Bobby." Sam growled threateningly, keeping his golden eyes on the small beads of blood trickling down Bobby's neck.

Then Bobby did something that Sam didn't see coming. He expected him to kick, or scream at him, or call him something demeaning.

But Bobby looked at him calmly, really looked at him – in the eye, and replied, "I'm not lying to you, Sam…this aint you, boy. Somewhere…you know it."

Sam felt the thing in his mind whisper suggestions into his consciousness, but above all – he heard Bobby's words above the monster. The thing hadn't taken over, but it was definitely stronger, and Sam knew it. He knew that if this thing wanted, it could simply shove Sam out of the drivers' seat and take his body right now if it wanted.

But it didn't.

It lay in waiting, telling Sam what to do, telling Sam how to act, what to eat, how to live. It was unnerving. If this animal wanted control, then why didn't it just take it now? The waiting was enough to drive Sam crazy.

"Stronger than you…yes." The thing in his mind agreed gleefully. "But the body isn't quite up to par with me just yet…almost though. Couple more days…plus…I love to toy with you, Human-Side."

Sam shuddered as a chill crept up his spine. His eyes widened and he suddenly let go of Bobby's throat quickly as if it had burned him.

Bobby took in a deep relieved breath, but kept his eyes on Sam. His golden animal eyes were filled with tears, as realization of what he just did clouded his mind. He – Sam, had almost killed Bobby.

Sure, the thing in his mind had given the suggestion to him, but it would have been Sam who killed Bobby if he squeezed his hands just a little harder. Somehow, that was more terrifying than the thing taking full control of him, while his human-side was lost in oblivion.

"I-I-I'm sorry." Sam stammered as tears spilled down his cheeks.

"It's fine." Bobby replied rubbing his throbbing neck, "You made me burn the burgers…"

"I'm gonna go downstairs." Sam announced between his silent sobs.

"You don't have to, Sam. You pulled yourself out." Bobby replied hopefully.

"I almost killed you, Bobby." Sam countered in a thick voice.

"Almost…" Bobby agreed with a nod, "But you didn't, and that's all that matters."

"Still…" Sam argued dully, "I don't trust myself to not do it again."

Quickly, Sam turned away from Bobby and headed toward the basement door. He unlocked the chain, and turned the knob before heading down the stairs.

Behind him, he heard Bobby slam the basement door closed, obviously mad that Sam was beating himself up. But Sam didn't hear the chain lock.

Fine, Sam thought to himself as he reached the last step descending into the basement. His bare feet clapped against the cement floor furiously as he stormed toward the panic room with a look of determination on his face.

He turned the wheel, and unbolted the large iron door which led to the panic room with a loud click. Once the door was opened, Sam stepped through the threshold and closed the heavy door behind him intently – glad that the door didn't open from the inside without a key.

Here, Sam decided he would wait until the curse swallowed him whole as tears continued to stream down his face as he mourned his humanity.

"Only a matter of time…" The thing in his mind rejoiced.

Oh man...what have I done to Sammy, huh? Hehehe. :D