CHANGING - Chapter 10/10

[leighannwallace.livejournal.com]

Title: CHANGING

Author: Leigh Ann Wallace
Rating: PG
Genre/pairing: Gen
Characters:Sam, Dean and Bobby
Word count: 3200
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

We cannot destroy kindred: our chains stretch a little

sometimes but they never break.

Marquise de Sevigne

OOOOOOOOOO

Suddenly aware of how much time had passed since the gunfire, and the fact that someone might have heard the shots and reported it, Dean said, "We gotta get the hell out of here."

"Yeah." Sam's voice was faint. "Oh. Hey."

Dean's eyes went to his brother's shoulder, then down to his thigh. Blood was flowing sluggishly from both wounds. He cursed himself silently. Skinwalker blood or not, his brother wasn't bulletproof.

"I forgot." Sam sounded puzzled and, somehow, very young. "Got freaking shot."

His older brother quickly crossed the short space between them. "Keep it together, okay? I don't want to have to drag your gigantor ass back to the car."

Sam's rueful grin gleamed white in the darkness. "Do my best."

Dean helped his brother limp over to a nearby tree and propped him against it. "Try not to fall down, okay?"

Sam nodded, trying to shake the fog from his brain.

Dean gathered their gear and then, burdened with both duffels and the shotgun slung over his shoulder, and keeping his revolver in hand in case Bill's jackass buddies decided to come back, took his brother by the arm. "You going to be able to stay on your feet?"

"I'm good," Sam said woozily. "The one in my leg went all the way through, and the shoulder's not that bad."

Dean grunted noncommittally. He put an arm around Sam's waist, took some of his weight. "Okay, kiddo. Time to get the hell out of Dodge."

By the time they reached the Impala, Sam was barely able to lift his feet from the ground. He slumped against the hood of the car, breathing hoarsely.

Dean tossed their gear into the trunk and put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "You still in there, dude?"

Sam tried to smile, failed miserably. "Tired," he finally managed.

"I'm gonna get a few miles behind us, then we'll stop and I'll take care of you. It looks like the bleeding's stopped, so you'll be fine."

Sam looked at him blearily, clearly not getting much, if any, of this, so Dean just opened the car door and maneuvered him into the back seat. Sam was so tired he didn't fight it, just folded in, asleep before the door closed.

Dean stared in at his sleeping brother, frowning. He didn't like this. He did not like this.

What the freaking hell was going on?

He couldn't get it out of his head - the look on Sam' face when he'd killed the hunter, and when he'd explained his reasoning afterward. He hadn't looked angry, or crazed. He'd looked calm. Practical. Like it made perfect sense to kill the guy.

One plus one equals Kill Bill. Like it made sense.

And, Dean supposed, it kind of did. But killing an unarmed man? That wasn't Sam. His brother had always been about mercy and second chances. It had nearly gotten them killed on more than one occasion.

Had the demon blood changed him that much? The skinwalker poison?

And when he'd sworn to say yes, if Dean died. Was Sam really unbalanced enough to believe that Dean's death justified the death of the entire world? Dean's life against six billion?

Getting moodily into the car, he started up the Impala and pulled her out of the cemetery's parking lot. Once they were out on the road, he took out his cell phone and hit the speed dial.

"Bobby?" he said grimly. "We gotta talk."

OOOOOOOOOO

Sam was floating, warm.

Safe.

Lucifer looked down at him, sprawled out on the grass in a pool of warm sunshine. He sat down beside him, reached out and caressed his forehead, ran a light finger down his cheek, ghosted across his lips.

"Sam." He smiled fondly. "The more you fight, the more I want you."

A butterfly flitted by on an errant breeze and Lucifer warmed at the reminder of his Father's wondrous creation.

Sam stirred and Lucifer gentled him with a glance. "So strong, so stubborn. So like me." He cocked his head, frowned slightly at the sleeping man. "Did you mean it, Sam? If Dean were gone - if I reached out and stopped your brother's heart - would you be mine?"

Sam stirred uneasily. Lucifer leaned over and kissed his forehead comfortingly, sent him deeper into sleep.

"No, no, dear love. Don't worry. I won't do it - you'd never forgive me."

He sat brooding, running his hand through Sam's hair, studying his young King's face. "I heard what you said about staying changed, Sam," he whispered, "It does sound like fun -" his eyes held much the same expression Sam's had, thinking about freedom and the mountain - "but it doesn't really fit in with my plans."

He ran a hand up Sam's arm, over his chest, and shook his head sadly. "I hate to take the cat away from you, but I have no choice. You're mine - my only one - I won't risk losing you."

Leaning in, he kissed Sam gently on the mouth. "I'm afraid this might hurt just a little." He pressed a hand over Sam's heart, sent a low pulse of energy into it.

Sam moaned, thrashing under his hand. As Lucifer increased the pulse, Sam struggled up toward the surface.

Lucifer's features shifted as Sam opened his eyes.

Smiling, Jessica leaned over and kissed him lingeringly on the mouth. "Darling."

"Jess!" Stunned, Sam pulled her close. "Oh God, Jess."

"Sam," she breathed. "My one. My only."

"Jessica." Was this real? Was she really here? Closing himself to doubt, Sam stroked her golden hair, kissed her sweet lips. His beautiful Jessica, his sweet girl.

He could never love another.

Skin to skin. Heart to heart. In the timeless way that dreams have, they clung together.

After a eternity, Jessica pulled away from him. "I have to go."

Pain filled Sam's eyes. "Jess, no."

"I love you, Sam," she said sadly.

"Jess, please," he begged. "I'm so sorry. I'd give anything to bring you back."

"It's all right, sweetheart. It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have saved me." She started to fade.

Frantic, he tried to hold her, but his hands passed right through her.

"Jess, no!" he screamed, frantic.

She disappeared, but he could still feel her arms around him, comfortingly.

"Go back to sleep, Sam," Jessica whispered. "I'll stay."

Held by her, content, Sam sank back down into sleep. Into dreams.

Silent laughter rumbled in the chest of the Prince of Lies.

OOOOOOOOOO

Dean drove through the rest of the night, Sam insensible on the seat behind him. When they got to Bobby's he was still asleep.

Dean shook Sam by the shoulder. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty! Wake up!"

Sam blinked groggily. "What?" He sat up, rubbing his eyes and looked out of the car window. "What're we doing here?"

"You got shot, bro. Figured you could use some down time," Dean said matter-of-factly.

Sam looked down at himself. His shirt hung open, the bandage on his shoulder plainly visible. His pants were still on, but he could feel a bandage on his thigh underneath them.

Moving slowly he pulled himself out of the car and stood still for a moment, feeling himself out.

Dean watched him warily. "How do you feel?"

"Good," Sam answered, in some surprise. "I feel pretty good." He looked at Dean, saw him frown.

"What's wrong?" he said, confused. "Why should it worry you that I feel good?"

"I'm glad you're feeling good, Sam," Dean said, annoyed with himself for being so transparent. "I guess I'm just still a little freaked out about -"

A shadow fell over Sam's face. "Bill," he said flatly.

At that point Bobby came out of the house. He saw the tension in their faces and divined the reason for it immediately.

"Are you still goin' on about that?" he snapped angrily at Dean. "Stop sweating goddamned Bill! I would have killed the bastard myself if Sam hadn't of done it!"

Dean nodded, but the uneasy look on his face remained.

Sam's throat closed. "I'm going to go take a shower," he said thickly. Waving away Dean's tentative offer of help, he limped heavily past Bobby with his head down.

Bobby watched him go, then looked at Dean. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Bobby," Dean protested. "You didn't see it. He broke Bill's neck - he didn't even have to use both hands. One hand and Boom! The guy was dead."

"Would it make you feel better if he'd used a gun. Or a knife?" Bobby asked sarcastically. "Damn it, boy, did Bill hold a gun to your head or not?"

Frustrated, Dean nodded.

"And correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't this his second shot at killing Sam?"

"Yes, but -"

"Dean," Bobby interrupted him. "Think. What would have happened if Sam had let him go?"

"He'd have stayed on our asses until he killed us," Dean admitted. "But Bobby, it's just not Sam to do something like that. He -"

"Damn it!" Bobby shouted. He stopped, fighting for control. "When are you going to stop treating your brother like a goddamned monster!"

Dean went white. He opened his mouth, closed it. "I'm not - I don't -"

"No?" Bobby asked acidly.

Dean turned away from him, confusion warring with anger. Of course he didn't treat Sam like a monster. He'd never thought of him as a monster, not even after the skinwalker bit him.

Except - when he'd found his brother with Ruby, before he'd killed Lilith. He had called Sam a monster then. But he hadn't meant it, he hadn't. He was just upset about Sam going to Ruby, about him drinking demon blood. He would never hurt his brother. He loved Sam. More than himself, more than anything else in life.

Dean looked at Bobby. "Is that what I've been doing?"

Bobby sighed. He hadn't wanted to hurt Dean, knew how the boy felt about his little brother. But it needed to be said. "When you keep expecting the worst from someone, sooner or later they're just going to oblige you."

Dean closed his eyes. "Crap. I'm sorry."

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to, bonehead."

OOOOOOOOOO

Sam pulled himself up the stairs. In the bathroom, he pulled off his clothes and started the shower, turning the water as hot as it would go. When he climbed in, he stood slumped against the wall, head bowed, letting the scalding water pound into him.

I can't take this any more.

His belief that he was absolutely doing the right thing in killing Bill hadn't shielded his heart from the pain over the path he'd chosen. He could still see the fear in Bill's eyes, still feel the crack of his neck as he'd killed him. Another death on his conscience. Another nail in the coffin of his supposed humanity.

And the way Dean had looked at him when he'd killed the hunter - the way he was still looking at him. That hurt. It shouldn't - he knew he deserved it, and worse, after this last year, but still. It hurt.

Dean had said he'd forgiven him for what had happened with Ruby, with Lilith, but that had clearly been a lie. He was still waiting for Sam's dark side to appear, for Azazel's plan to come to fruition - for Sam to say yes to Lucifer.

Tears started and he turned his face into the water. He felt raw, flayed. How much longer could he bear it - knowing that the person he loved most in the world, the one who'd raised him, the man who'd been a father as well as a brother, thought he was a monster?

There was a loud knock on the door, and it opened. "Hey, Sammy, don't use up all the hot water!"

Sam didn't answer, just leaned down and wearily turned off the water. He tugged down the towel he'd draped over the top of the shower curtain and started drying off.

"Sam." Dean's voice was hesitant. "Listen, I'm sorry about before."

Sam sighed. "Don't, Dean."

"Don't what?"

"Don't apologize just because Bobby ripped you a new one." Sam wrapped the towel around his waist, pulled open the curtain and stepped out. "Shower's yours. There's plenty of hot water."

"Sam, I mean it, I'm sorry," Dean said again. "Yeah," he admitted when Sam shot a look at him. "Bobby did rip me a new one, but he was right. You were right. I was being an asshole. Bill was like Gordon, just without the fangs."

Sam turned away from him, pulled a clean pair of jeans out of his duffel. "Whatever."

Dean touched his arm. "Sam -"

Sam jerked away. "No!" A tear ran down his cheek and he brushed it away angrily. "I'm not a monster!"

"Sam, I am so freaking sorry I ever said that to you. I don't think you're a monster."

"No?" Sam challenged him. "Is that why you watch me all the time? Is that why you keep calling Bobby to talk about me?"

He saw Dean's guilty start and said bitterly, "I can't keep apologizing forever. And I can't take you blaming for what I might do some day. If you can't trust me, just leave me. I'll be fine on my own."

As Dean stared at him, stunned, Sam hastily pulled on his jeans, and pushed past him out of the bathroom.

Sam hurried down the stairs, Dean close behind him, calling for him to wait.

Drawn by the ruckus, Bobby met them at the foot of the stairs. "What the hell is going on?"

Sam tried to get past him. Bobby grabbed his arm, then stopped and did a double-take. "Jesus H. Christ!"

Sam shrank back as if expecting a blow.

Seeing that, Bobby let go of him and said gently, "You idjit, look." He pointed to Sam's forearm.

"What?"

Dean put a steadying hand on his brother's back. "Holy crap!" he breathed. "I didn't notice before!"

"What?" Sam said, baffled.

"The scar, Sammy, the scar!" Dean said excitedly. "It's gone!"

Sam looked down. His arm, though criss-crossed with faint scars from other, earlier battles did not carry the scar from the bite of the skinwalker. Sam gasped, the blood rushing from his head. He fell back against Dean, who lowered him quickly to sit at the bottom of the stairs. "Easy, Sam!"

Head swimming, Sam sat, fighting for air.

Dean sat next to him on the stairs, grinning madly. "Son of a bitch, Sammy! Son of a bitch!"

Sam turned to him. "It's gone? Is it gone? Does that mean it's over?" He tried to calm his racing heart, afraid to believe, afraid to even hope.

"I'm a moron!" Dean shouted with excitement. "The scar was there when I dressed your shoulder wound, I know it was. And now it's gone, just freaking gone! That has to mean it's over. Cas - maybe it was Cas!" He jumped up, grabbed Bobby by the arm. "Has Castiel been around?"

"I haven't seen him," Bobby said. He looked into Dean's beaming face, then down at Sam's dazed expression. "I don't know, it - let's not get too excited. Be a hell of a let down if we're wrong."

Dean shook his head emphatically. "No, this is good, it has to be. A scar like that doesn't just vanish, it takes years to fade. You can't even see where it was anymore!"

Sam leaned back against the banister. He felt sick. Can't. Can't keep doing this. Can't.

Almost frantic to take that lost look away from his brother's face, Dean said, "Let's test it, like before! Come on!" He pulled Sam up from the stairs and dragged him into the kitchen, Bobby close behind. He opened the refrigerator, got out some cold fried chicken and raw bacon, then pulled the vodka out of the freezer.

"You stay here," he instructed Sam and Bobby. "Stay here! I'll be right back!" He raced out of the kitchen.

Sam stood still in the middle of the room, almost afraid to breathe. Could it be? Was it even possible? He jumped nervously when Bobby soothingly patted his shoulder. "It's okay, kid. It's okay."

After a couple of minutes, the kitchen door slammed open again and Dean rushed back in. "Okay, let's go! Same drill as before. You find where I hid the stuff!"

They all trooped outside, Dean bouncing up and down excitedly, Bobby a steadying presence at a very nervous Sam's side.

"I'm gonna close my eyes so I can't give it away," Dean said. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. "Go, Sammy! Fetch!" You're not gonna find anything, Sammy! You're not, I know you're not!

Hearing nothing, after a minute Dean opened his eyes. Sam was standing still, head raised to the air, eyes closed.

"Sammy?"

With a gasp, Sam turned to him, eyes wide with astonishment and joy. "Dean! It's gone! I can't track you. It's gone!"

Bobby pounded Sam on the back, grinning like a madman. Dean grabbed his brother in a rib-cracking hug, tears shining in his eyes.

"Thank you, God," Sam said fervently. "Thank you." He raised his face to the sun, goose pimples rising up his bare chest, and spun in a slow circle. I'm free again - I'm free!

OOOOOOOOOO

Later that day.

The three hunters sat around the kitchen table, eating huge amounts of scrambled eggs, bacon and French toast. They ate until they were full to bursting, talked about nothing that mattered a damn, and laughing about everything that did.

Sam finally pushed himself back from the table with a groan. "One more bite and I'll explode."

Dean nodded, rubbing his stomach with satisfaction. "Damn, Bobby, you make the best french toast in the world."

Bobby raised his cup of coffee in a toast. "Thanks to years of cooking for you two galoots."

Dean groaned. "Damn, Bobby, who the hell says galoots! What the hell is a galoot, anyway!" Bobby cuffed him playfully and Dean laughed.

Sam watched contentedly as his brother and Bobby bantered back and forth. He was tired, but it was a good tired. He could almost believe that when he slept tonight there would be no dreams, no visitors - no torment.

Almost.

And if Lucifer did come? Screw him. Screw fate, screw destiny. He would just say no. He could always say no, if he had Dean standing beside him.

He knew that his brother still had reservations, no matter what he'd said earlier, no matter how happy he was now. There was nothing to be done about that. They were only human - there were no absolutes.

Dean turned to him, gave him a heart-stoppingly happy smile. "You okay, Sammy?"

"I'm good, Dean." Sam smiled back at his brother. "I'm great."

For right now, that was true for all of them.

For right now, it was enough.

THE END

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

This is the very first fan fic I ever wrote, about a year and a half ago. Reading back over it, I can see so much room for improvement, but it's what got me started on what is arguably the happiest time of my life. I have no quarrel with it.

Comments

[monicawoe.livejournal.com]

Nice ending! I figured Lucifer wasn't going to risk Sam staying changed ; )

your review to Changing

[leighannwallace.livejournal.com]

Thanks! Glad the ending worked for you!

[ayane42.livejournal.com]

great story!!

your review to Changing

[leighannwallace.livejournal.com]

Thanks! I can never hear that too much! :)

Edition 2,294

[livejournal.livejournal.com]

User dephigravity referenced to your post from Edition 2,294 (http://spnnewsletter.livejournal.com/639286.html) saying: [...] by (G) Changing 10/10 [...]

Re: Edition 2,294

[leighannwallace.livejournal.com]

I get your comment alert, but I am never able to see what you're saying. Not sure why. Sorry, just didn't want you to think that I'm ignoring you. Appreciate your reading Changing. :)

[catnthecradle.livejournal.com]

Great story, I've really enjoyed it. Glad Sam's back to normal, but he was HOT as a shapeshifter.

Thank you for sharing.

your review to Changing

[leighannwallace.livejournal.com]

Thank you. :) I loved Sam as a shifter, too.

[mentholpixie.livejournal.com]

I liked this very much! And it's miles better than the first fanfic I ever wrote (lets not even go there). Great work!

your review to Changing

[leighannwallace.livejournal.com]

Thank you! That means a lot to me. :)