Chapter 17


After what seemed like only seconds, Sam came too on the floor of Bobby's living room with Dean hovering over him with worry clear on his face. He let out a visible sigh of relief when Sam's eyes cracked open and locked on his face.

"Sammy? What the hell happened?" Dean demanded loudly.

Sam groaned and then sat up slowly to get a better look at his surroundings. Sure it had only seemed like seconds to him, but the room under closer inspection was dark except for the lamp on the table by the sofa. It was nighttime; he'd been out for hours.

"Hey!" Dean screamed trying to regain his brothers' attention. When Sam's eyes drifted back to his face, Dean repeated, "What happened? Why are you on the floor?"

Sam made a grab for his head as memories flooded his mind. The demon was here, in the house. And it did something to him, but he wasn't sure what.

Sam looked up at his brother fearfully; he sighed and then made his way to his feet slowly with a bit of Dean's help. Sam nodded with gratitude, and then sat on the old couch and divulged in the story about how the demon came to him.

Sam told Dean everything. Well…almost everything. He left out some finer details like when Azezel said that he would make him "as human as he was." It was obviously implying that Sam wasn't completely human to begin with. But demons lie right?

He then ended his story with Azezel saying something about having some fun with Sam losing control, and then it put his hand on his head…then blank.

Dean rubbed his chin, clearly frustrated. He looked down at Sam, "You think that demon messed with your head?"

Sam shrugged, "That would be my guess."

"So just don't wolf-out, we'll figure this out." Dean promised. Sam couldn't help but catch that Dean looked like he needed to convince himself more than him.

Sam nodded slowly, and then Dean asked warily, "You said he probably messed with your head to lose control, but he wanted you to remember it?"

Sam nodded again, "Yea…I guess its back to the cage, huh?"

Dean shrugged, "I dunno…where the hell is Bobby? We could use his help."

Sam sighed, "He should be back soon."

Dean shrugged, and then walked over to the front door where he had dropped his bags after seeing Sam laying on the floor unconscious. Dean picked up the brown paper bag and the white plastic one and peeked inside the white. He pulled out a packet of raw steaks, and tossed it at Sam who caught it without even thinking twice.

"Eat up Lassie." Dean joked as he made his way to the kitchen with the bags in his hands. Sam glared daggers at the back of his brothers' head.

Sam looked down at the meat in his hands, and played with it for a bit, making the blood swish around the plastic tray. It spiked his hunger, but not in a familiar way. He continued to stare at the plastic covered meat and it nearly made him sick. Why though? Usually the raw steaks weren't so bad in his opinion, so why was it making him nauseous?

That's when he heard it, and it nearly sent him through the roof; the slightly off tempo beating of his brothers' heart from the next room.

The raw meat fell from his hands as he listened to the wonderful noise. It sent an uncontrollable fire through his veins, that made his muscles somewhat relax. He looked down at his hands and realized that his fingernails were growing steadily into claws. He felt a small twinge in his gums as his canines sharpened into fangs.

Sam was changing, and he couldn't bring himself to care.

He stood from the couch, and then stalked over to the archway that led to the kitchen. He followed the sound of the heartbeat with such glee in his own heart, it was almost blinding.

As he stood in the threshold he looked at the person in the kitchen with his back turned to him. Sam's stomach dropped when he realized it was his brother. He couldn't hurt what was his, and this human and the older man were indeed his.

Sam walked back into the living room, and stared at the front door. He needed to go out, he needed to feed. So he walked toward the front door and opened it, and as he left he heard the man in the kitchen yell, "Bobby?"

Sam shut the door behind him, and then stalked off into the night.

xXx

Dean was in the kitchen drinking a beer, and eating his double bacon cheeseburger with extra onions over the counter. He thought about what his brother had just told him. How Azezel probably did something to his mind, but they weren't sure what. And something told Dean that he probably didn't want to know.

Dean couldn't help but feel a little guilty too, he left his brother alone and unprotected. He should have left the colt for him, or something.

This case was getting more and more difficult every day. And Dean couldn't help but regret taking that werewolf case in Dillon. He regretted telling his brother to cover him. When he should have been covering Sammy.

Dean sighed, and then took another swig from his bottle.

Suddenly he heard the front door creak open. "Finally!" He thought. But when he didn't hear footsteps coming in the house, his curiosity peeked. "Bobby?" He yelled apprehensively.

The only response he got was the front door creaking shut.

Dean then got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He placed his beer bottle on the counter, and then hustled into the living room to find it empty with the raw meat he had bought for Sam sitting on the floor…still in its packaging.

"Sam!" Dean called with worry clear in his voice. When he didn't get an answer, he got nervous. Surely Sam knew better than to just walk out right? After all, they were all on lockdown to protect him.

"SAMMY!?" Dean tried again.

His response was the front door opening quickly with Bobby standing in the threshold with a worried expression on his face. His hair which was usually covered by his trucker hat was now slicked back, and he was wearing a nice primped suit.

"What the hell ya yellin' about?" Bobby demanded as he shut the door behind him.

"You stay here in case he comes back, I'm gonna go out and look for him." Dean demanded as he walked over to the couch to where his and Sam's bags were laying on the ground. He unzipped the bag and searched feverishly for something.

Then he pulled out a .45 and loaded it with a silver clip. He knew that if Sam just up and left than he wasn't in his right state of mind. And after what he had said about the demon doing something to him, Dean figured Sam was running around out there with zero restraints, nothing stopping him from killing someone.

Dean tucked the gun away, and then headed for the front door, but was stopped by Bobby. "What are ya talkin' about?"

Dean looked him square in the eye, "Sam! I'm talking about Sam, Bobby! He left, and now I've gotta go get him. I'll explain later alright, just let me go find him before he hurts someone."

Bobby nodded at that, but didn't let Dean pass yet. "What?" Dean demanded angrily.

Bobby rolled his eyes impatiently, "Use sense boy! Did he have his phone on him?"

Dean shrugged, "Probably in his pocket or something."

"So…don't you think maybe you should track the GPS?" Bobby offered as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

Dean eyed him warily, and then nodded. What harm would it do to check it out?

xXx

Sam made his way into an alleyway in the city, he had tracked this heartbeat for almost a mile and he was closing in on it. She was young, and plump with bright green eyes, and short choppy blonde hair that only came to her shoulders.

She eyed the alleyway nervously, as the hairs on the back of her neck rose. She turned the corner that led to another alleyway, which was much narrower, and didn't have the luxury of a streetlight.

Sam smelled her fear as she turned the corner, and used this as his opportunity. He ran into the mouth of the other alleyway, and attacked her. She screamed bloody murder, and all Sam could do was growl at her. He straddled her hips, and then leaned into her face and neck.

This move got her to finally stop screaming, but the smell of her fear soared into his nostrils, nearly blinding him with pleasure. He licked her neck all the way up to her chin, and then sniffed her.

"A-a-are you gonna k-k-kill me?" The girl stammered hysterically as tears poured from her eyes. Sam sat straight up, and looked down at her. He cocked his head as he heard her plead for her life, but the words were lost to him.

Sam then howled with victory as he plunged into the girls' chest as she began to scream again. Blood began to pour from the hole in her chest and around his hands as he continued to dig in. Her screams turned deafening.

Sam then heard a loud crack echo through the alleyway as he broke his way past her ribcage. Then finally, as his clawed hands wrapped around her bleeding heart, her screams stopped and she stared at him lifelessly and accusingly.

Sam pulled his hands from her chest with her heart. He looked down at the bloody mess he had left the girl, and then at the still warm heart in his hands. He growled deep with pleasure as he noticed all the blood on his hands that were dripping into the pavement.

He couldn't take it anymore; Sam buried his face into the heart in his hands and celebrated. He had never tasted human before, until now, and this was the most blissful moment he had ever known in the past few weeks.

The blood exploded into his mouth, as he chewed into the soft heart without a care in the world. He swallowed it down, and continued with it. Raw packaged meat be damned.

Suddenly, he heard the clicking of a gun, and he tore his blood soaked face away from his prey. He looked up and there stood Dean, his brother holding a gun at him.

"Sammy?" He questioned sadly.

Sam listened to his brothers' voice and knew that he was sad, and disappointed. He couldn't quite place why though. Had he done something wrong? He looked down at the bloody mess that was once a living, breathing girl, and then at the half eaten heart in his bloody hands. He looked past the heart into his own hands, and saw dark blood pooled in his palm, and bits of flesh that weren't his imbedded under his claws.

His claws.

Then it all clicked; everything. He looked at the girl he had murdered and then back to his bloody hands. He shook the fogginess out of his mind, and began to whimper.

Dean watched as tears began to roll down Sam's face, streaking the blood that covered his mouth all the way from his nose to his chin.

Sam dropped the half eaten heart on the pavement, and then stood slowly. He turned to face his brother, and relaxed his shoulders. He walked up to Dean, and then grabbed his brothers' hand that grasped the gun. He directed the hand, so that the gun was pointed straight at his heart.

"No, come on Sam," Dean said in a defeated tone. Tears of his own began to fall from his eyes. "Let's just go back to Bobby's."

Sam growled in annoyance, and then continued to whimper pathetically.

"You weren't you!" Dean argued.

Sam nodded slowly, letting his brother know that it was him. He wasn't possessed, he was acting on instinct.

Dean shook his head, as he looked into Sam's animalistic eyes. "No. I can't do it…come on man, don't do this."

More tears fell from Sam's eyes, and it continued to streak the blood that was caked on his face.

Dean then sighed, letting a small sob escape his throat. He then pulled his gun away from his brothers' chest, and looked down at it.

"Sammy…come on…this is the demons fault. Remember?" Dean whispered as he continued to stare at the gun.

Sam only whined in response.

Dean shook his head, and then looked up into his brothers' face. He clicked the safety on the gun, and then tucked it back into his waistband.

"I'm not shooting you." Dean said flatly as he stared defiantly into his brothers' wild and confused eyes.

Dean then turned, and walked out of the alleyway slowly and sadly. How could they possibly fix this? Dean hoped silently that his brother would come with him now, come with him back to Bobby's. The three of them would figure something out. They had to.

Dean heard a defeated sigh, and then even footsteps falling into place in rhythm with his own. His brother was following him he realized with a relieved sigh.

Dean then quickened his pace, as did the footsteps behind him. They made it to the mouth of the first alleyway where the Impala was parked right in front of them. Dean made his way to the drivers' side, and opened the door and slid in his seat as he closed the door behind him.

He looked over and watched as Sam did the same in his seat in the passengers' side. He noticed that during their short walk, Sam had changed himself back and looked entirely human with blood still covering his face and hands.

Sam turned his gaze over to his brother. His hazel eyes were red and puffy as silent tears fell from them.

Dean turned his attention straight ahead, and started the car. He was angry now, angry at himself, angry at this life, angry at the demon.

Especially at the demon.

Dean's tears turned from that of sadness for his brother, to hate for the demon. This was all his fault! All of it, everything that's ever gone wrong in his life was because of that Yellow-Eyed bastard!

Dean pulled the car from the curb and drove silently through the city and back to Bobby's house. He realized with a sad and defeated sigh, that the demon had in fact won this round, but it wouldn't again. Dean was going to make sure that Azezel never hurt anyone ever again.

He swore it.