Chapter 32

The hunters in the dark basement watched in awe as the demon before them buckled to her knees as a brilliant yellow light ignited just beneath her skin, illuminating her skeleton against the pale flesh. A gray smoke rose from her mouth and nostrils as her unseeing eyes finally closed as the demon finally succumbed to death.

Finally, her body went lax, and fell to the cold floor beneath her with a loud crash.

Dean lowered The Colt, or the now useless shell of what the weapon used to be, as he stared ahead at the demon he had just killed.

He wondered what this meant, he knew everything was going to be fine now – it had to be. But how?

Curiously, Dean passed his father and his friends as he peeked ahead into the panic room with wide eyes and a breath that he didn't realize he was holding.

But his hopes suddenly dropped, and his eyes glossed over when he noticed that The Beast still remained. It sat in the panic room with its head held low, looking Dean directly in the eye in a challenging sort of manner.

Dean felt his father approach him from behind, he too looked ahead toward The Beast.

John released a shaky breath, as his eyes shifted from the creature in the adjacent room, to the back of his eldest sons head – accusation clear in his gaze. "Elizabeth is dead."

Dean didn't reply, instead he only lowered his head as he readied himself for his fathers' screams.

"Elizabeth is dead." John repeated in an eerie calmness, "And Sam is still..."

John couldn't bring himself to finish his thought as he swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. The one who had started this whole nightmare was finally dead…and Sam wasn't changing back.

"Why…why didn't you wait for my signal? W-we had a plan, Dean." John stammered, his anger beginning to rise as The Beast growled at them angrily.

"I…I…" Moisture gathered in Dean's eyes as realization struck him hard between the eyes…he had failed. "I don't know."

"S-Sammy?" John called out brokenly as a tear slid down his cheek, running past his shattered guard.

The Beast responded by gathering itself to its feet in a rush, only to charge at the large iron door – resuming its attempts to bust down the door.

This time, John didn't flinch. He just continued to stare ahead at the monster that used to be his youngest son as it began flailing like some rabid animal with renewed strength as it attempted to find a way out of its iron prison.

For a moment, John was almost tempted to release it. It wasn't like this thing would ever turn back into Sam, anyways. As far as he was concerned…Sam Winchester was dead.

A cold fear gripped the pit of Dean's stomach hard as he too stared at the animal in the panic room. It was over now, and they had lost.

Sam was gone.

xXx

The next morning was a slow one. Dean had fallen asleep in a lumpy chair in Bobby's library the night before, but unlike the other night, he didn't fall asleep while doing research.

There was nothing left to research. No, Dean fell asleep in the library to give his dad some space.

John hadn't slept that night; he had been up all night talking with Bobby and Ellen in the kitchen. Their friends had attempted to pull John from his mood, telling him they just had to think of something else – and that this wasn't over.

But John had been adamant that this was over.

So instead, John decided he would pack his belongings – and by the afternoon, he'd be back on the road to find some other weapon to work against the Yellow-Eyed Demon.

Maybe he'd be able to avenge his wife's death, and Sam's girlfriend's…since Sam wouldn't be able to.

Immediately, John wiped the thoughts from his mind and turned back to backing his duffel.

Ellen was talking about taking off that afternoon as well, and taking the kid with her. Ash had found that the boy has some distant relatives who have been looking for him. Ellen offered to drop him off with them.

Dean got up, and stretched the kinks out of his back tiredly. Once his back cracked loudly, he stood up straight and headed out to the kitchen, where it looked like Bobby was waiting for him.

The gruff older hunter nodded a curt greeting, but didn't say anything as Dean passed him and pulled a mug from the proper cabinet gingerly. He wasn't sure he was ready for Bobby to tear into him just yet, even though he knew he deserved it.

Once Dean began pouring the coffee from the pot into his mug, Bobby cleared his throat and turned his sympathetic eyes toward Dean.

"I don't blame you, son." Bobby said simply as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Dean placed the hot pot of coffee back on the burner once his mug was filled enough for his liking, and turned his curious eyes toward Bobby. He hadn't expected him to be so understanding.

"Well, you should." Dean replied before sipping at the hot contents in his mug, "I do."

"We all thought killing that bitch would work, Dean…you were just doing what had to be done." Bobby offered with a half shrug.

"She said she would cure him…but I didn't listen." Dean reminded Bobby, trying to keep himself from crying again. He had already mourned his brother last night. He didn't want to spend any more tears on the matter.

"We'll find somethin' else." Bobby said, trying to sound encouraging.

"There is nothing else." Dean muttered brokenly, "My brother's…gone."

Bobby sighed deeply as he bit back an angry retort. Dean sounded like his father right now, and it was enough to drive Bobby crazy. But he knew that Dean was just talking out of grief. He knew Dean wouldn't let this sit.

"You know your dad's leaving this afternoon, right?" Bobby asked with a quirked eyebrow, trying a different tactic.

Dean shrugged as he took another sip from his mug before bringing it back away from his face to reply. "I overheard you guys talking, last night – yeah."

"You goin' with him? He's going after the demon." Bobby wondered.

"No." Dean answered with a deep breath, "I'll help dad kill the Demon…I won't let moms death go so easily…b-but…I dunno…it's j-just…"

Bobby nodded in understanding, halting Dean before he finished his sentence. Dean was saying it was too soon to just leave. He would need some more time.

"You don't mind if I stick around here for a little bit?" Dean asked politely, even though he was sure he already knew the answer.

"Of course not, ya idgit." Bobby responded with a halfhearted smile and a curt nod.

xXx

Later that afternoon, John stood in front of the front door with his hands full of his belongings. He glared at his eldest son for a quick moment before Dean leaned in and stole a hug from his father.

John instantly relaxed against his son and sighed. He knew he was being harsh with blaming Dean for this…but the demon was dead…and there was no one left to blame.

"Call once you catch wind of that bastard…I'll come help you." Dean offered as he released his father and took a step back.

John Winchester nodded sharply as he cleared his throat. "You know…you can come with me." He offered, uncertainly - his eyes still locked on Dean's.

Dean shrugged before replying. "Nah, I think I'm gonna hang back here for a little while…um…you know…get Sam's a-affairs in order and all."

John nodded curtly, not giving any other sort of answer. By 'affairs', John knew Dean meant he was going to go through Sam's belongings and keep what he wanted, and throw out what wasn't needed. It was going to be a long healing process for Dean…him too, honestly.

Which was why John was leaving. He didn't want to sit here and wallow in the loss of his youngest son. He didn't do that when Mary died either, do why would he now?

He gave Dean a pointed look, but kept his mouth shut. Dean understood the silent look, and immediately shook his head and became defensive.

"No, dad. We're not discussing this again. I'll deal with this my way, damnit." Dean snapped.

After Dean had woken up and talked to Bobby about staying, John had cornered Dean about what they were going to do about The Beast. It wasn't like Bobby wanted to keep a monster in his basement, so what John was getting at was…killing it.

John had argued with Dean, saying that Sam was still trapped in that body – and needed to be freed so he could rest. But Dean had been adamant about keeping The Beast alive for the time being.

He told his father that when the time came for him to leave Bobby's, he would put the silver bullet in The Beast's head – no one else. He wouldn't leave the monster with Bobby, but he wasn't ready to let go of it just yet, either.

John nodded curtly, before opening to front door and walking out without another word to his son.

Dean sighed and felt about ten times lighter once his father was gone. He turned around to face Bobby and saw the elder hunter was watching him curiously.

"So, now what?" Bobby asked.

"I'm uh…I'm gonna head downstairs for a little bit." Dean replied, his voice thick with emotion.

Bobby nodded simply as Dean walked past him, heading toward the basement.

Dean headed down the steps quickly, his mind completely blank. He didn't want to think of anything, because everything made him want to die right then.

His father, his idol – was ashamed in him, and wanted him as far away from him as possible. And his little brother…his best friend…was gone forever.

But once Dean reached the bottom step, he paused. Something was different, Dean realized with a quirked eyebrow.

Usually, The Beast would hear someone coming down the stairs, and would start growling and making other animalistic noises…but today it wasn't. The only other time it had been this quiet was when The Beast had escaped.

Dean hoped that wasn't it as a sense of alarm filled his being when he suddenly rushed his way toward the large iron door and slid the sliding peephole open.

To Dean's surprise, The Beast was there in the room…only instead of stalking for a way out like it usually was…it was laying on top of the cot in the center of the room with its head resting gently on its paws and its eyes closed.

Worriedly, Dean paid attention to its chest, but instantly relaxed when he noticed that its breathing seemed very normal.

It just looked tired.

Honestly, Dean didn't think that these things even slept. It wasn't like they were actually natural animals, anyways. Just monsters.

Actually, if Dean were being completely honest – in this state, The Beast looked more like a regular dog than a monster, but kept his silent chuckle to himself.

"Well, glad someone is able to relax around here." Dean joked with a sigh.

The Beast cracked open a golden eye and looked over at the peephole to where Dean was staring at it. But strangely enough, even after noticing its viewer…The Beast did nothing hostile or aggressive.

Instead, it only turned over so that it was no longer facing the door with a tired grunt and went back to sleep.

Strange, Dean thought to himself as his eyebrows knit together.

His attention was then suddenly drawn to the cot beneath The Beast, and the floor surrounding it. Large clumps of thick dark fur littered the floor and cot surrounding the creature.

"What the hell…" Dean muttered to himself.

He didn't think this thing would shed either.

What the hell was going on with this thing? Dean had to wonder.

Suddenly, Dean's eyes widened and his eyebrows relaxed when a strange thought suddenly occurred to him. He wasn't sure if he was right…but it was worth a shot.

"Sam? Sammy?" Dean called out in a silent mutter.

But that was enough, he noticed. The Beast's right ear flicked backwards at the sound of Dean's voice, and then the animal raised its head gently – almost as if it wasn't sure of itself and turned its large wolfish head toward the door, and Dean.

In its golden eyes, Dean saw an entirely new realm of agony's and sorrows he's never known, as if all the weight of the world rested on this things shoulders. But what caused Dean to gasp and lose control of the tears that had been building in his eyes was the conflicting conscious in the golden wolf eyes.

For the first time in a long time, Dean saw a conscious reflected in those eyes – and he knew that it was Sam who was looking back at him.

Sam was there, and he was hurting…badly.

"How…h-how are you in control right now?" Dean asked, sounding hysterical.

Sam looked down at his body, now looking genuinely surprised. He was in control…as a matter of fact, as he searched his mind curiously, to be sure this wasn't some kind of trick – he didn't feel The Beast in there anywhere. It was gone.

He offered his brother a small shrug as he slunk off the cot, feeling hopeful for the first time in what felt like forever.

But as his four paws hit the cement floor, Sam looked down at himself again and whimpered. Why wasn't he changing back if The Beast was gone?

As if reading his mind, Dean sighed deeply with a look of something akin to fear on his face. "Look at the fur around you, dude. It's falling out…maybe you're gonna change back the way you changed. Slowly."

…And painfully. Sam added silently as he hung his head, not knowing if he was able to handle any more of this kind of pain.

More tears spilled from Dean's eyes as he looked down upon his brother. He was right. He hadn't messed anything up. He was getting his brother back, slowly…but that was better than not at all.

"I'm so glad you're back, bro." Dean choked out as he stopped himself short of just full on sobbing.

Me too. Sam thought back to his brother as he sat purposefully on the cement floor, looking up at his brother.

His hope finally renewed.

We all happy now? Haha. I'm bringing Sam back. :)

Oh, come on! Did you really think I'd really kill off Sam?

I think I can coax a couple more chapters outta this thing, let's see. ;D