CHAPTER 12

Sam didn't say anything else during the rest of the funeral. I assumed he was too afraid to say something that might change my mind about turning him. I wanted to tell him that he didn't need to bother, I wasn't gonna change my mind even though I desperately wanted to. But, I was thankful for the silence.

The drive back to the house was just as quiet. Both of us were lost in our own thoughts on what was to come. Sam was staring out his window so I couldn't see his face to be able to tell how he was feeling. But I knew how I felt! I was terrified! How could I live with myself, turning my little brother into a monster? Cursing him with this... this disease?! A disease for which there is no cure?!

"Dean?", Sam finally whispered, turning to look at me.

"Yeah, Sam, what is it?", I snapped a little too harshly. My frayed nerves were really getting to me. It was selfish, I knew, but I really wished he'd keep his damn mouth shut.

"I just... I was wondering... I mean..."

"Spit it out, Sam!", I growled. My patience always seemed to run thin when Sam acted like this and tonight was no exception.

"What... what's it like?" He looked at me with those big puppy-dog eyes like I had all the answers. How could I ever explain to him that I didn't? I'd never truly be able to explain to him what it's like to be what I am.

"It's like trying to hold back a Great White Shark with a dog leash, that's what it's like." That was the closest analogy that I could come up with and even that was miles away from the truth of it. "Just think, Sam! This is what the rest of your life will be like!", I shouted while giving him the most sarcastic smile that I could manage. Sam looked away and out the windshield at the dark road ahead of us. I could smell the sour scent of fear coming off of him and could see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. "You really sure you're up for this, Sam? Because it's not exactly a cake walk."

"I know that, Dean", Sam retorted. "I can take it!"

"You can take it, Sam?! Really?!", I bellowed back angrily. "This is not like catching a cold! It's not something that can be fixed! The rage! The urges! It never goes away!"

"I know that, Dean! I'm not stupid! I..."

"You ARE stupid for wanting this!"

"Dean..."

"And I'M stupid for agreeing to do it!" That caused a very uncomfortable silence that lasted the rest of the trip.

It was passed midnight when we finally made it back to the house. Walking up the steps of that house felt like I was walking to my own execution. This was the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my whole life and I would never forgive myself for it. But it's not like I was a stranger to guilt. In fact, if you asked anyone that knew me, they'd tell you that I was the poster child for self-recrimination.

When we got inside, Sam stood in the middle of the living room, facing away from me, like he was waiting for me to get on with it. When I just stood there staring at his back, he shifted his stance and rolled his shoulders trying to release the tension in his muscles.

"It's OK, Dean", Sam whispered. "I want this." I sighed, stepped up behind him, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You don't know what you're saying, Sammy", I whispered back. "You can't really want this."

"Dean, I can't lose my brother again. I won't. Not if I can help it."

"You're sure about this?", I croaked. "Because once I bite you, there's no going back."

"I know." I felt shaking and it took me a second to realize that it was coming from me. "Just do it." I put my free hand on the side of his head and tilted it to the side. I could see his jugular throbbing on the side of his neck as his pulse raced. No matter how hard he tried to be stoic about this, Sam couldn't hide his fear entirely. I pulled the collar of his shirt back and sank my sharp canines into his shoulder before I could talk myself out of it. Sam grunted and dropped to one knee like he hadn't expected it. Maybe he hadn't expected it to hurt as much as it did, I don't know. I was still latched onto his shoulder and he pulled me down with him. I was leaning over him and when I pulled my teeth from his flesh he gasped and started panting like he had just come back from a run.

"Sam? You ok, pal?"

"Y-yeah... Dean... I'm ok", Sam stammered. "Just hurt like a bitch!" He wobbled to his feet and I helped him sit on the sheet-covered couch before his legs gave out again. I don't know if it was the bite or just sheer exhaustion from everything that had happened today, but by the time his head hit the cushion on the back of the couch, Sam was out. I sat next to him and rubbed my face with both hands. God! I can't believe I just did that! It was so wrong! But I knew it was the only way I'd get Lydia back or even have a chance to get outta this alive. I don't know what was gonna happen from here on out and it seemed like it was getting more and more out of control by the second. But there was one thing I was absolutely sure of...

We were definitely falling down the rabbit whole on this one!