Chapter Twenty-Three

Bobby and the Winchesters occupied the tiny kitchen the next day, the grizzled hunter peering at the collection of ingredients for the Professor's potion.

Silver shavings, the finger bone of St. Francis, Wolf's bane leaves, and a flask of holy water sat atop the worn counter, looking rather out of place next to the breadbox and kettle.

It's now or never, the grizzled hunter thought and set to work preparing the potion.

The Winchesters watched silently as Bobby put a pot on the stovetop and poured holy water into it, setting it to boil. Next he coarsely chopped the Wolf's bane, the leaves releasing a scent similar to fresh-cut grass. Bobby added the plant to the boiling water and stirred it quickly with a wooden spoon.

"Are you sure that's the amount you're supposed to use?" John asked.

Wolf's bane was highly toxic and the father felt unease at the prospect of his son ingesting that much of the poisonous plant.

Bobby nodded, "That's what Abigail said. Of course, Sam won't be actually eating any of this. All the ingredients need to boil together for six hours and then go through a strainer so that all that's left is liquid. Sam's gotta drink that."

Silver shavings were added next. As they hit the water and Wolf's bane leaves they hissed, sending a plume of metallic-smelling steam into the air.

Lastly, Bobby carefully used an old cheese grater to add a bit of saint's bone to the pot, merely a dusting really.

"That's it?" Dean asked skeptically.

The potion didn't really look like a potion. It was more like some strange soup, greenish-yellow and bubbling furiously.

"Yup," Bobby said, "Now it's gotta boil."

He put the lid on the pot and cleaned up the countertop as casually as if he had just been preparing nothing more than another meal for his hungry hunter friends.

"What're y'all standing there gaping at?" he grumbled, turning around to find all three Winchesters starting at the pot on the stove.

"It ain't gonna cook any faster if you look at it," Bobby told them and Dean shook his head slightly.

"C'mon Sammy," he said, taking his brother by the elbow, "Let's go outside."

John however, didn't move. He sighed and ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair.

Bobby gave the man a sympathetic look.

"I wouldn't have done this if I didn't trust Abby," he told the younger man, "She may not be much of a hunter but she knows what she's doing."

John nodded, "I just hope it works, Bobby."

"I know. We all do."

SPN

Sam sat on the ground, picking at bits of grass as Dean shot cans.

The eighteen-year old didn't really need to practice shooting, it was really just an excuse to get out of the house and release some pent-up anxiety.

Sam didn't call his brother on it though; he didn't really want to be inside either.

The idea of drinking the potion made his stomach churn but he would, if it helped stop his transformations.

He was scared though. He wished he'd been more careful on that hunt in Devils Lake. If he had been faster he might have avoided all of this.

"Sam? Are you listening?" Dean's voice jolted the teen from his thoughts.

"Huh?" he muttered, blinking up at his brother.

"You want a go?" Dean asked, waving a hand in the direction of the empty bean cans.

Sam shrugged, "No. I'm okay."

Dean didn't move.

"It's going to be alright, Sammy."

Sam swallowed. He was getting tired of his brother saying that.

"I know."

It was his own fault he had ended up like this. He just wasn't as good a hunter as his brother. Dean never would have been bitten. Dean would have been able to get out of the beast's way in time.

But he hadn't and now all their lives were messed up because of it.

What would it be like to be back on the road again? Hunting? Keeping their secret?

Could they do it?

Would others find out, like Coslaw, and come after him?

What if they shot to kill and didn't miss like he had?

"Okay Sam," Dean's voice announced, "Get up."

The fourteen-year old peered up at his brother, confused.

"You are not going to mope all day," Dean told him and grabbed his arm, pulling Sam to his feet.

Sam didn't struggle and followed his brother as Dean led him out of the small copse of trees they were in and headed towards the junkyard.

Dean released his brother's arm and pulled the Impala's keys from his pocket.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked.

"We are going to town," Dean amended.

Sam blanched.

"What! No! I can't!"

Dean stopped and turned to him, "Why not? It's not like your going to wolf-out in the middle of Main Street."

"But… I…" Sam stammered, heart jackhammering.

"But what?" Dean asked, one corner of his mouth turned up, "C'mon. You need a change of scenery."

Sam followed his brother and climbed into the passenger's seat as Dean took the driver's.

Dean cranked the volume on the stereo and Meat Loaf's "Everything Louder Than Everything Else" came blaring from the speakers.

SPN

John watched from the front window as the Impala pulled out of Bobby's driveway, the base from whatever song he was listening to could be heard pounding in the air around the vehicle.

Marmalade scratched at the man's leg and meowed. John glanced down at the animal. Whatever that cat was- whether it was even a cat- it had helped defend his boy from Martin Coslaw and the hunter could no longer look at the yellow feline the same way.

"They leave you behind too?" John asked the cat and reached down to scratch behind her ears.

"You want a cold one, Johnny?" Bobby asked from the kitchen doorway, a beer bottle in one hand.

"Sure," John replied and took the offered beverage.

Both men walked out onto the porch and sat on the two folding chairs leaning against the wall of the house.

Marmalade sat between the two hunters on the wooden porch boards, her keen blue eyes tracking some unseen prey across the landscape of the Salvage Yard.

SPN

Sam frowned when Dean pulled into the parking lot of an ice cream shop called 'The Dairy Barn'.

"We haven't been here in forever," Sam said and looked at Dean.

His brother just smiled. It was true. Whenever John had left his boys with Bobby while he went hunting- when Sam and Dean were only little- the grizzled hunter would treat them to ice cream at this shop. The brothers loved it; they didn't have a lot of money for many things- including food sometimes- and getting an ice cream cone or a sundae was something special.

As Sam and Dean had grown older though, John dropped them off at Bobby's less and less. Dean was starting to train as a hunter and John wasn't going to make the trip to Sioux Falls for only one of his sons. Sam often stayed in the motel room either with his brother- if John thought the hunt was too dangerous for his eldest- or on his own when their father wanted his boy to put that training into practice.

"I had a craving for something sweet and this is the best place in town," Dean replied as though he had completely forgotten about their trips here with Bobby.

W

The shop was just as Sam remembered it. The floors were tiled in a black-and-white checkerboard pattern, the boots and seats upholstered in red vinyl. The bar was faux-beige marble and a chalkboard overhead showed their menu. The walls were painted in a large mural showing a heard of dairy cows and a smiling farmer with a green tractor. The waitresses wore blue-flannel print shirts and jeans to keep with the farmyard theme.

Not only an ice cream shop, the Dairy Barn also boasted a wide selection of burgers, milkshakes, two kinds of French fries and pie.

Dean and Sam went to a booth near the back and sat down. Both brothers, without even really thinking about it, knew what they wanted already.

"I can't believe this place is still here," Sam muttered, "I thought they would have turned it into a Dairy Queen or Baskin Robins by now."

Dean shook his head. Sometimes the small-town, family-run businesses were better than chain restaurants and this was proof. The place was packed with people, talking, laughing and eating ice cream or burgers.

A curly-haired waitress approached their table.

"Welcome to the Dairy Barn," she said with a smile, "My name's Maryann, would you like menus?"

"Actually," Dean said, "I think we already know what we want."

"Do you still have those awesome Banana Splits you use to make?" Dean asked and Maryann nodded, "We sure do. One of our best sellers."

Dean smiled. Besides what was in pie and the Dairy Barn's famous Banana Splits, he rarely ate any fruit. He made exceptions for those two desserts though.

"And you?" Maryann asked, turning to Sam.

"Vanilla milkshake," the fourteen-year old replied.

Dean smirked. Of course, how could he forget?

When they were younger, Dean would pick on his brother for ordering something as plain as a vanilla milkshake, especially when there were flavours like blueberry and butterscotch and mint chocolate chip to choose from. Sam though would ignore him and ask for vanilla. It was boring, yeah, but in their crazy life, sometimes boring was good.

"Coming right up," Maryann told them and left.

W

Sam and Dean enjoyed their ice cream in silence. They were content just to eat and listen to the civilians around them talk, happy in the knowledge that monsters did not exist.

Although the brothers said nothing to one another, the quiet between them was not strained.

They could communicate just as easily without words.

Sam knew why Dean had taken them here. Dean was telling him that he didn't have to be scared. Telling him that there was no bogeyman Coslaw hiding among the patrons or staff of the ice cream shop. No one was even paying them attention.

Sam felt the stress and worry begin to melt away with the dredges of his milkshake.

Maybe they could do this. Maybe it would all be alright. Maybe he didn't have to be afraid that someone- somehow- would look at him and know.

Dean sat back with a satisfied sigh, the boat-shaped dish in front of him clean.

"Ready to go back, Sammy?" he asked and the fourteen-year old nodded.

Dean left the money on the table and left the shop, feeling relaxed knowing that Sam was calmer now.

SPN

Abigail Noonan looked at the phone on her desk and bit her nails. She wanted to call Bobby, ask him how it was going with the boy but she didn't want to intrude.

She glanced at the clock on the wall and decided that she might as well.

It should be about nighttime in America anyway.

Picking up the phone, Abby dialed the hunter's number and waited as it rang and rang and rang.

Frowning, the Professor set the phone back down in its cradle and sighed.

"Maybe they've just gone out," she muttered, "Perhaps the time is off."

Abigail fretted and bit her nails for a few seconds before dialing Bobby's number again.

This time the phone was answered and Abby opened her mouth to ask if everything was alright.

"What the hell did you give us?! You've poisoned the boy!"

SPN

The light was fading from the sky quickly.

Bobby and the Winchesters were standing in the panic room- just in case- waiting.

Sam looked small and vulnerable with only a blanket draped over his shoulders, the shackles weighing heavily on his wrists and ankles.

Dean hadn't wanted to see Sam like that ever again but Bobby had decided that until they knew if the potion worked or not, it was better to be prepared. John had agreed.

Bobby handed Sam the mug with the strained potion inside.

The fourteen-year old took the cup, his fingers shaking slightly.

Sam sniffed the drink and wrinkled his nose.

"I hope it doesn't taste as bad as it smells," he tried to joke.

John glanced at his watch, "Better drink, Sam."

The teen nodded and brought the mug to his lips.

Sam drank deeply with his eyes clenched shut. He didn't stop until the mug was empty. Shuddering at the foul taste, like rotting vegetables and pennies, Sam looked up.

He didn't feel any different. The only thing that had changed was the now awful aftertaste in his mouth.

Frowning, Sam held the mug out to Bobby, "I don't-"

His words were cut off as agony ripped through his abdomen, a searing pain that reminded him of when Coslaw had shot him and the mug slipped from slack fingers; ceramic shattering on the cement floor.

Sam heard three voices calling his name as he doubled over, feeling as though someone had shoved a red-hot poker into his stomach.

He felt hands gripping his shoulders and realized that he was on his hands and knees.

The pain gnawed at him and clawed upward, spreading.

"Ah!" Sam cried and collapsed on the cold floor.

SPN

Dean jumped into action as soon as Sam gasped.

Something was not right.

"Sammy!" Dean cried and grabbed at his brother as Sam doubled over, knees buckling seconds later and he landed on the ground.

"Sam! Sammy!" Dean clutched his sibling's shoulders and tried to force him up.

Dean was aware of Bobby and John calling his name, calling Sam's name, tugging at the both of them but he only had eyes for his brother.

"Get up, Sam!" Dean begged and wrenched Sam out of the fetal position.

His brother's face was pale as wax and twisted in pain. Tears streamed unchecked from his wide, staring eyes and his mouth was open in a silent cry of agony.

It was the most horrifying thing Dean had ever seen.

He pulled Sam against him, hugging his brother, shielding him from Bobby and John's clutching hands.

He didn't know what was happening but he knew that he wasn't going to leave Sam alone. No matter what happened.

Sam's body twitched uncontrollably as though he were having a seizure. Sweat beaded his brow and dripped down his face, mixing with tears.

Dean was vaguely aware of the telephone ringing upstairs.

SPN

Stop! Please! Make it stop! Dean! Dad! Mom! Make it stop!

The pain was tearing him apart, killing him.

He couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't feel anything but agony. Every nerve ending raw.

The pain was never going to cease. He would remain this way, suspended in this torture until the end of days.

Sam had no sense of time. It could have only been seconds that passed, or years.

He almost didn't believe it when, just as suddenly as it had began, the pain faded.

His senses came back, clear and sharp. He could feel his chest pressed against someone else's. He could feel the fierce heat poring off that other body, feel the heart beating strong and quick in the chest. He felt arms like vices wrapped across his back. He smelled sweat- his or someone else's- and the faint, coppery tang of blood. His ears throbbed, every sound suddenly too loud: harsh panting breathing and a grinding sound.

"Sammy?" the whispered voice asked and Sam knew exactly who it was now.

Dean.

"D'n," Sam tried to speak but blood filled his mouth.

He felt his brother pull him away; hold him at arm's length.

Sam swallowed. The inside of his mouth stung. He must have bit himself.

"Sammy," Dean murmured and pulled him into a hug again.

"Jesus Christ," a deeper voice from above said and Sam lifted his eyes to see his father standing nearby, his face flushed with panic.

Stomping footsteps caused Sam to flinch in pain and he felt Dean tighten his grip.

"He's… he's okay," John said quietly and Bobby muttered a curse.

"Damn Abby," he swore, "I was about to book a flight to England and wring her Limey neck!"

"I think its over," Dean said, "Can we get Sam into bed?"

Sam's eyes were already closing, exhaustion creeping in, as the shackles were unlocked and he was picked up, the blanket covering his nakedness.

The fourteen-year old was completely asleep even before Dean had reached the top of the stairs, his head resting against his big brother's chest.

SPN

Dean carefully laid Sam down on his bed, draping the blanket from the basement over him before pulling the sheets up to his chest.

Marmalade, who had been barred from the basement until they knew what the potion would do, leaped onto the bed with an irritated meow at Dean. She crept across the mattress to Sam's side and lay down beside him, her small triangular head resting on his shoulder.

Dean reached out and rubbed between the cat's ears for a moment before turning quietly and leaving the room.

As he came down the stairs he found Bobby and John in the kitchen.

"Well," Bobby said carefully, "Looks like the potion works."

John glared at the older hunter, "I thought Sam was dying."

"We all did, Dad," Dean replied, "But he seems alright now. He's sleeping."

The three men didn't speak for a long moment before Dean broke the silence.

"Is Sam going to drink it again tomorrow?"

W

Sam remained in bed for the rest of the night, fast asleep, and still did not rise when the next day began.

Dean was concerned for his sibling but Sam clearly needed the rest. His face was still very pale and he had dark circles beneath his eyes.

Dean sat on the edge of Sam's bed, playing with his brother's bangs.

"How are you feeling?" he asked his drowsy sibling.

"'Kay," Sam muttered.

Dean chewed his lip for a moment, "There's still two more nights, Sammy."

Sam's green eyes, glassy though they were with fatigue, sharpened at the words.

"And?" he asked.

"And…" Dean hesitated, taken aback by Sam's sudden focus, "Well, Dad and Bobby and I were talking last night and decided that we weren't going to tell you what to do but… You have to drink that potion today and tomorrow so you won't turn… but if not…"

"I'll change," Sam finished for him.

Dean nodded.

"It was really scary Sammy," he spoke again, "I… we… thought you were dying. Really."

Sam closed his eyes halfway, thinking.

"I don't even remember the pain…" he said slowly, "I mean, I know it was there… but it's faded. Like it happened a long time ago."

"I just don't know if I can see that again," Dean confessed.

Sam looked at him, "Than you can leave. I can deal with it. I'm not going to change again."

Dean didn't respond for a long time and then he nodded.

This was what Sam wanted. Really. Now he didn't have to fear the full moon every month. He didn't have to be afraid that he'd hurt anyone. But at what price?

SPN

Sam took the plastic cup Bobby handed him. They were in the living room, not the basement, and Sam was fully clothed since they were fairly sure he would not transform.

Sam closed his eyes and drank down the foul-tasting liquid.

He sensed Dean at his side, ready to grab him if he should collapse.

Sam took a deep breath that hitched in his chest as pain blossomed in his belly.

It squirmed and wormed like insects, the pain red and hot, though not as bad as the first time.

Sam opened his eyes and staggered; Dean reaching out to grab his arm.

"I'm okay," Sam grunted and lowered his head, trying to ride through the pain.

"Sit down," Dean said and lowered Sam to the floor.

"Dean," Sam whimpered and reached out blindly for his brother.

He relaxed as much as he could when he felt Dean's arms wrap around him, comforting.

Dean raised his hand and pressed his palm to the back of Sam's head.

Sam panted as the pain spread, slithering like snakes throughout his insides.

"Shhh," Dean murmured, "I've got ya. It's okay."

SPN

"Must be his body's getting accustomed to the potion," Bobby said as Dean helped Sam lay down on the couch.

"So the pain will eventually go away?" John asked.

Bobby shrugged, "Seems like."

The father gave a worn smile and Bobby returned the gesture.

Poor Sam was down for the count again though. Even though it was clear the pain wasn't as intense as it had been the night before, it had still wreaked havoc on the boy.

But it was lessening at least.

Hopefully, one day, he might drink the potion with no pain.

It made sense though, now that Bobby thought about it. The potion was forcibly preventing a change that now would be as natural to Sam's body as breathing. No wonder it hurt like hell to keep that transformation from happening.

Just one more night of this and they could all breathe easy until next month.

SPN

Sam looked out the back window of the Impala sleepily.

Last night hadn't been as bad as the first two.

Bobby had been right; the pain was fading with each draught he took of the potion.

He knew it still scared Dean- and his Dad- but he would take this over becoming a bloodthirsty monster.

He would never be able to forgive himself if he ever hurt anyone. So, he'd endure the pain if it meant keeping innocent people safe.

Marmalade stepped onto his lap and pushed her head against the underside of his chin.

Sam chuckled and ran a hand down the cat's back and tail.

Bobby waved from the porch. He looked sad to see them leave but John had insisted. He'd gotten a call of a rugaru terrorizing the citizens of a small town in Oklahoma and wanted to go after the creature.

Sam frowned. Rugaru's had once been people. It was the insatiable desire for human flesh that they were unable to resist that turned them into monsters.

Like me.

No, not like me. I am not a monster. Not anymore. I can control myself. I can control this curse.

"Meow," Marmalade interrupted Sam's thoughts and he sighed, drawing the cat towards him and burying his nose against her soft, warm fur.

Releasing the cat, Sam smiled when Kansas' "Hold On" began playing from the Chevy's speakers.

Dean peered over his shoulder and smiled.

"Ready to get back to work?"

Sam nodded.

This wasn't over. His life wasn't over. He could make this work. Would make this work. No one had to know he was a werewolf. He would hide it, could hide it. Now that they knew the potion prevented him from changing, Sam didn't feel as scared as he had before.

They would be careful, cautious and everything would be fine. Sam knew his brother and father would keep him safe.

Safe.

That was a something he thought he'd never be again.

But as Sam rode down the highway with his father and brother and the familiar music blasting from the speakers, the comforting drone of the Impala's wheels on the asphalt, that is exactly what he felt.

Safe.

Author's Note:

Thanks to 3DBABE1999, SPN Mum, Elishab68, BruisedBloodyBroken, L.A.H.H, Gembomz for reviewing.

Thanks to everyone who alerted, followed and favourited.

This is the end… for now. I am planning a sequel but in the meantime I have other stories I am itching to write. I hope that you have enjoyed this fic and will join me for the sequel. Please leave any final thoughts!