CHANGING - 2/10
Jul. 28th, 2012 06:33 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
leighannwallace.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ohsamTitle: CHANGING
Author: Leigh Ann Wallace
Rating: PG
Genre/pairing: Gen
Characters:Sam, Dean and Bobby
Word count: 1745
Summary: Sam is bitten by a shapeshifter. Are the legends true, will Sam change? How can Dean save him?
Spoilers: (if applicable) You're safe if you've season eps up to season five. Mention of Lucifer and the apocalypse
Warnings: (if applicable) Shameless Angst
Disclaimer: Pretty clear I don't own anything to do with Supernatural. Written out of love and passionate obsession.
OOOOOOOOOO
Bobby opened the door. One look at the boys and his mouth turned down. "Oh balls, what now?"
Dean shouldered past him. "This story goes better with whiskey." He glanced back at Sam, who was hanging back.
"Get your butt in here, Sammy. If anyone can find a way out of this, it's Bobby and you freaking know it."
Sam obeyed, reluctantly.
"Sam." Bobby closed the door, gave him a hard stare. "You look like crap."
Sam shrugged.
Bobby looked over at Dean, who was already pouring himself a second shot. "What the hell's going on?"
Dean motioned him over, handed him a full glass. "Drink up. You're gonna need it."
Bobby put the glass down on the table, hard, spilling it. "Stop screwing around, boy. Talk."
Dean drained his glass, put it down very carefully. He sat down heavily on one of the worn-out chairs. All his mad drained right out of him. He felt as old as God. Older.
"Sorry, Bobby. It's been a bad week." He paused, hating to even say the words. "We had some trouble. Sam, he -"
"Dean." Sam came forward. "It's mine to tell."
With no hesitation, he took off his jacket, pushed up his sleeve and unrolled the bandage.
Bobby's eyes widened at the sight of the torn flesh, now starting to heal.
"What was it?" he asked in a low voice.
"Skinwalker," Sam answered flatly.
Bobby paled. Fumbling for his glass he drained what was left in it and looked at Dean. "Guess you were right about this."
"No kidding." Dean rubbed a hand across his forehead. "Man, the hits just keep coming, don't they? Bobby, what the hell do we do?"
Seeing the thinly-veiled pain and fear on the faces of what remained of his family, Sam had an epiphany.
He was done. Just done.
Done with the self-pity, the guilt, the fear. All of it.
He was sick of being the weak one, the one who had to be watched, who couldn't be trusted.
He was just freaking done with it.
He would not become something uncontrollable, something savage to be hunted and killed. He wouldn't put his family through that. Hell, he wouldn't put himself through that.
He would figure out how to beat this. If it couldn't be beaten, he would die by his own hand.
He would protect his family.
With that decision, a kind of peace settled over him and he smiled. A very small smile, but a smile nonetheless.
Dean and Bobby were looking at him with identical, carefully expressionless faces. Sam held their gaze.
"Guys - I'm not dead yet."
Over a dinner of fast-food fried chicken, Dean shook a drumstick at Sam. "You know, I wish that bastard Azazel weren't dead. I'd like to kill him all over again."
Sam's brow creased. "What's he got to do with me being bitten?"
"When he fed you demon blood, it's like he drew a big freaking target on your chest. 'Here's Sammy, World, come poop on him!'"
Bobby snorted.
Even Sam had to smile. "Yeah, well, I'm a little tired of getting pooped on." He took another piece of chicken from the bucket on the table. "I think it's somebody else's turn."
Dean popped open another beer. "So what the hell do we know about skinwalkers? We've always used silver on them, bullet or blade. There's not much else in Dad's book.
"Most of what I dug up is Navajo-based," Bobby said. "They're supposed to be witches who use magic to take the form of different animals."
"Well, we know they can do a lot more than that," Sam objected. "They take the form of people, too."
Dean grimaced, remembering St. Louis. "Bastards."
"Thing is," Bobby said, "shapeshifters, skinwalkers, there's so many different kinds of, uh, creatures out there, I don't think there's any kind of hard and fast rule for what they are and what can kill 'em. All we can do is go with what we know and try to find out more."
"Have you ever heard of anyone who's been bitten and survived?"
Bobby shook his head. "People who get bit tend to get dead at the same time."
Sam nodded, trying not to be disappointed. He'd already known that.
"Normally I'd be calling around to other hunters for information. But I don't think that's a good idea in this situation." Bobby went on. He pushed his plate back and sighed. "Hunters can be a bit close-minded about things like this. Some of them get the idea one of us is infected, they might decide to come take care of the problem themselves."
"No, we're not asking for help," Dean said sharply. He knew the other two were thinking the same thing he was. Word was already making the rounds about Sammy releasing Lucifer and starting the apocalypse. They didn't need to give someone another reason to kill Sam.
It wasn't like the two of them were hard to find, after all. Everyone knew how close they were to Bobby.
"I think," Sam said slowly, "I'm going to have to play guinea pig."
Dean frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means we watch me. Watch for changes. See what happens." He looked at Bobby. "If something happens, you can lock me in the panic room."
"Should work. I'll check it, make sure it's panther-proof."
Sam flinched, the food in his mouth tasting suddenly like ashes.
Bobby cursed himself. "Sorry, kid."
Sam shook his head. "It's okay. I can't afford to be touchy. If I'm going to get through this without hurting anyone - " he broke off. "Crap." He stood up, started clearing the table. "We've got to treat this just like any other job."
"Sam -" Dean said, exasperated, "you do get this isn't your fault, don't you? You - Got - Bit! It's not like you walked up to the bastard and stuck your arm in its mouth!"
"Dean, I get it, okay, I get it!" Sam snapped. He drew in a deep breath. "I guess it's just starting to get on my nerves, wondering when I'm going to turn furry."
"You both need some sleep," Bobby said firmly.
Dean rubbed a hand over his face, glad Bobby had stepped in. His nerves were on the ragged side. "You got that right."
"Bobby -" Sam stopped, then continued. "You're always there for us. Thank you. I don't think you hear that often enough - we don't say it often enough," he corrected himself.
"You're family." Bobby reached out, patted Sam's shoulder. "You got that?"
"Yes, sir."
Dean sighed, impatient. "Are we done with our moment now?"
"Not yet." Sam went to his brother, pulled him into a hug. "Thanks, Dean. I know we still have some things to work out, but - thanks."
When Sam stepped back, Dean said crushingly, "You're welcome, Francine. Bed, now. Bobby was right. You do look like crap."
"Let's check out the panic room first," Sam said matter-of-factly. "I'm going to sleep there."
Dean's lips tightened.
"You think you need to this soon?" Bobby asked.
"Why take a chance?"
Dean drained the last of his beer. "Okay, then. Let's go."
Dean sat up on the couch, heart pounding. The living room was dark, the house still. He listened intently, trying to figure out what had woken him.
He could hear Bobby snoring from his bedroom. The clicking of the clock on the living room wall. The steady blast of the furnace; the hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen.
Uneasy, he got out of bed and used the bathroom, then padded silently down the stairs to the chilly basement. Dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, he shivered as he looked through the window of the panic room door, saw Sam motionless under a pile of blankets. His breathing was even, regular.
Things to work out.
Yeah. Damned right.
Sam had chosen to follow Ruby. He'd left his brother, his blood, and followed a demon. It stung.
He couldn't figure it out. What had tied Sam to Ruby so tight? Had it just been the blood? Or the blood mixed with sex?
And see, right there, that was another thing. How the hell could Sam have slept with her? Sure, the body was human, and beautiful, but what was inside her was neither.
How could Sam have stared into those eyes, known a demon was in there, and still slept with her?
Dean sighed. He knew he would get past this eventually. Sam was his brother. He loved him. Always had, always would. Nothing could change that.
But damn.
Thing was, he knew he carried part of the blame. If he'd listened to Sammy, found a way past Ruby's lies.
If he hadn't called his brother a monster.
He regretted that more than anything. If he'd been able to hold his temper, maybe they wouldn't have fought. Sam wouldn't have gone with Ruby, wouldn't have killed Lilith, raised Lucifer, started the apocalypse.
Maybe.
Or, maybe it was destiny. Maybe Sam had been fated to raise Lucifer.
Nah.
It had been a screw-up, that was all. A massive one, sure, but fate had nothing to do with it.
The one good thing to come out of that fiasco had been sinking the knife into Ruby. Now that he had enjoyed.
Hadn't been for Lucifer rising from the pit right after, it would have been a good night.
He touched the amulet his brother had given him so many years ago; remembered the expression on Sam's young face. He'd just found out that monsters were real, and Dad was nowhere around. All he'd had was Dean to protect him.
Dean's hand tightened on the amulet. I'm still here, Sam. I won't give up on you. No matter what. And I won't let you give up either.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-07-28 12:08 pm (UTC)your review to Changing
Date: 2012-07-28 06:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-07-28 01:34 pm (UTC)Hi!
Tag your post, please. Thanks! :)
hello!
Date: 2012-07-28 06:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-07-28 06:10 pm (UTC)tags
Date: 2012-07-28 06:16 pm (UTC)BTW, love your site. I'm moving all my stuff over from ff.net and will be posting all my Sammy-central stuff on your site. I love Dean and hope my work shows it, but most of it is geared toward the Moose!
no subject
Date: 2012-07-28 06:19 pm (UTC)Okay, I added lycanthropy (not quite applicable to you, but a useful tag anyway), bites/bitten, body horror, and transformation, which should work for you. I think you could also make a case for "supernatural injury" in your case.
Glad you're enjoying the site! If you have Dean-centric stuff, I encourage you to post it at
no subject
Date: 2012-07-28 03:53 pm (UTC)I'm loving this :)
your review to Changing
Date: 2012-07-28 06:08 pm (UTC)