Chapter 25

Dean knelt by Sam's side for what seemed like hours just looking at what had happened in only a couple short hours of sleeping. Sam had given up, and now the curse was tearing him apart freely.

Sam's golden eyes peered into Dean's stricken face with what looked like annoyance. How Sam managed to keep his 'bitch-face' intact after such a drastic change was beyond Dean, but at the same time he was grateful for it.

"It'th bad ithn't it?" Sam murmured weakly, suddenly lowering his gaze as his 'bitch-face' shifted into a mask of shame.

"Nah…it's not that bad." Dean lied, instinctively placing his game-face over his worried expression, "I doubt anyone would notice."

Sam released a quick breathy chuckle as he lifted his upper lip slightly, just long enough for Dean to get a better look at his slick white curved fangs.

"We're gonna fix this Sam…there's gotta be a cure or something." Dean said, desperately trying to calm him and his brother down.

"I…I don't th-think tho, Dean." Sam replied hopelessly through his light shivering, "It'th too late."

"Sam, why don't you go back to sleep for a while." Bobby offered with a sympathetic half-smile, "Dean and I will figure something out, and hell – maybe your dad will be back by the time you wake up, next."

"M-my back…hurth." Sam complained lightly as his eyelids drifted closed.

"Alright, son." Bobby replied in a gentle voice, "I'll bring ya some painkillers, but try and get some more sleep, alright? When you wake up, you should be able to walk again."

Sam gave a small jerky nod, but didn't give a verbal reply as Bobby offered him another smile before heading behind him into the other room to fetch the painkillers.

After a short while, Sam sighed and reopened his eyes to gaze up at his brother who was still staring down at him, only instead of looking utterly terrified, Dean looked slightly more composed. But Sam wasn't an idiot; he knew Dean was just putting on an act.

"Do y-you know…when dad w-w-will be back?" Sam asked in a low voice, trying to keep out of Bobby's earshot.

Dean looked a little startled by the question, before looking slightly thoughtful. "Not till early tomorrow…maybe late tonight if the traffics good, and he speeds…why?"

Sam didn't answer right away, but instead he lowered his gaze again. For a moment Dean thought Sam was dropping the conversation, and it would remain silent until Bobby came back in the room…

…Until Sam inhaled deeply, and gave an abrupt reply which sounded alarmingly similar to a growl.

"Jutht wanted to know when to ekthpect the thon-of-a-bitch."

Dean was silent for a moment as he processed his brothers' words, trying to think of a quick translation. But once it clicked, Dean was a bit startled.

("Just wanted to know when to expect the son-of-a-bitch.")

Sure, he had yelled at their dad when he called and said the Jeremy angle was a dead end, and he yelled at Bobby when their dad told the elder hunter that he was bringing the kid back with him. But truth be told, Dean was angrier at the entire situation in general than he was at John.

He knew their dad; he knew he didn't not love him or Sammy. But he had to save the kid, and after a while Dean finally understood how that decision had torn John up.

Dean's own hopeless views of the situation had clouded his common sense, and once he hung up the phone and his head was a little clearer – he remembered distinctly their fathers' tears in his voice. He remembered how completely and utterly defeated John sounded when he told Dean that Jeremy was adopted, and can in no way help Sam.

But apparently Sam didn't seem to get it. He wasn't on the phone with their dad; he didn't hear the complete loss resounding in his voice.

So in Sam's mind…John had chosen a hunt over his own son.

With a new understanding running through Dean's mind, he sighed deeply as he thought of the best way to approach this issue. Sam was pretty pig-headed, once he gets an idea in his head – good luck convincing him he's wrong.

"Sammy…I thought the same thing a little while ago, too." Dean began in a low voice and downcast eyes, "I seriously thought dad was picking this stranger over his own family…but he already went in search of the kid under false pretenses – hell, I went with him at first! Once he found out the kid was innocent in all this, and just being pulled into this demon drama…dad had to make a decision…either come back here, and watch you suffer, or save that innocent kid from a bunch of demons."

Sam didn't say anything; he only kept his eyes fixed on his brother intently – silently urging him to continue.

"He had to save the kid, Sammy…I mean, it would hurt like hell – but if I were in his shoes, I'd probably make the same call." Dean conveyed carefully, hoping Sam would drop his grudge toward their father.

But as Dean thought about it, in all honesty – he wasn't sure if he would have the strength to go out of his way to save the kid, once learning he was innocent in the whole matter. Dean knew he probably would have gone back to Sam. But then again, he didn't think he was as strong as his father.

Still though, Dean sighed deeply as he shook the thought from his mind before he continued speaking.

"Sam – man, you should have heard dad on the phone. You could tell it wasn't an easy decision to make. He was a complete mess about it."

That seemed to catch Sam's attention as his head snapped up to get a better look at his brother, his eyes imploring Dean to continue. "He wath?"

("He was?")

Dean only nodded simply as he made eye contact with his little brother for a split second before dropping his gaze – not being able to keep his eyes fixed on Sam looking like that. It was almost like this curse was mocking him by changing Sam so drastically – mocking him by going after the one person he cared about more than himself. It sent a painful spike through Dean's chest at the thought of some animal inside his brothers' head, just waiting to take control.

"You should try and forgive him, Sammy." Dean muttered with a phony half smile of reassurance.

To Sam and Dean's surprise, there was an abrupt knocking on the wall behind Dean. Sam had been too busy focusing on his brothers' words to notice Bobby appearing in the threshold. His head snapped up at full alert with wide eyes glaring at Bobby curiously at the same time as Dean turned around to face the intruder.

Upon seeing Bobby, the brothers relaxed, visibly deflating. Seeing that as an invitation, Bobby stepped in the room with a small orange bottle of prescription pills in his hand. Once he reached Sam's side, Bobby popped the bottle open, and shook out two tiny red pills into his hand.

He looked down at the awkward structure of Sam's paws, and sighed. "I can't just give 'em to you, I'm guessin'…I could just give 'em to you directly..?"

Sam lifted his upper lip in halfhearted disgust at the thought of Bobby feeding him pills. But at the same time he knew it was the only way to get them in his mouth since his 'hands' were no longer up to such a task. So he gave Bobby a curt nod, and let Dean lift the upper half of his body to make swallowing the pills down easier.

As Sam opened his mouth revealing all of his sharpened teeth, Bobby dropped the pills onto Sam's tongue gently without so much as a flinch…which was more than you could say for Dean once Sam opened his mouth.

Not wanting Sam to have to dry swallow the pills, Dean grabbed the mug of now freezing coffee that Sam had been drinking out of earlier that day and held it up to Sam's lips.

Gratefully, Sam drank down the bitter cold coffee along with the tiny red pills and nodded a silent 'thanks' to Dean and Bobby.

Once he was sure the pills were down, Dean placed the coffee mug back on the table before lowering his brother back into a laying position on the couch.

"Dean..?" Sam said in a muttered question to get is brothers' attention.

Dean looked down at Sam again with a tiny smile present on his face. "What's up?"

Sam closed his eyes and took in a deep breath before his breathing evened out into slow and steady breaths, and for a moment Dean was sure Sam had fallen asleep on him.

But then Sam opened his eyes just a crack before relaying his thought in a murmur. "I wanna thee dad again."

("I wanna see dad again.")

And Dean knew instantly what Sam meant with alarming clarity. Sam was saying he wanted to see their dad one more time before he could no longer recognize him.

And in that moment Dean wanted to do nothing more than to punch his little brother in the face and scream at him for talking like he was dying…but he couldn't bring forth the effort to yell at Sammy.

He looked down at his little brother, and his heart broke. Sam looked like he was on the verge of death – so frail, and broken. His skin was so white it was almost gray as it seemed to be stretched to its limit on his canine features of his face. And Sam's suffering was very clear to Dean in that moment.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat that had formed at the same time his eyes began to moisten; Dean offered Sam another phony smile before replying with a muttered, "You will, Sammy. Just hold on till then."

But Sam was no longer listening, his eyes were now closed completely and Dean was sure – without a doubt that Sam was fast asleep.

Hm...more tomorrow, guys. :)