Thanks for reading! The cover was art made by linneart on tumblr, but I did some editing as well! The post is post/79376851821 on linneart's tumblr blog. Please enjoy my story :)

Sammy was fast asleep in the back of the Impala, his cheek, still a little chubby from baby fat at eight, pressed onto the soft leather seat as the car rumbled over a few bumps. Dean had a small frown plastered on his face as he watched the woodsy landscape go by, gripping tightly to the flowers his little 6th grade girlfriend had given him as a goodbye present. The plastic crinkled in his hands as he pressed the flowers close, he felt anger rolling off him like heat waves.

They'd stayed at this last place for almost seven months, actually giving him time to make friends and get a girlfriend. And now his dad was tearing him and his brother away once again when he finished the hunt.

"We're almost there, Dean. Stop moping." John's eyes slid over to look at Dean from the rear veiw mirror. "We're here for you and your brother's safety, Dean. We're in the middle of nowhere, we can chill out in safety for a little before the next hunt, okay?" He said gruffly.

"I liked my old school better," Dean shot back moodily.

"Your old school wasn't safe anymore." John pressed his lips together angrily.

Dean looked down. "Dad, my flowers are dying! Just like my dreams of being with Katie!"

John rolled his eyes. "None of this chick-flick stuff, Dean, I've told you that before. Just quit smothering them, we'll put them in water once we get to our new motel."

Dean shut his mouth tight and just watched the trees roll by. He saw his new school and stuck his tongue out at it. Life on the road sucked ass. When he was big and old he was going to live in one place and never, ever, ever have to move again.

Dean let himself get lost in a daydream, thinking about what life would be like when he was older. He'd have a house with a lawn he could mow every week, it would have a white porch and a red door and his neighborhood dads would come over for beer and football games and Sammy would be his neighbor too of course..

He was jerked out of his daydream as the car suddenly shuddered to a stop. Dean blinked and looked out the window; he saw piles and piles of grey stones shaped like squares. No, he took that back. They were tiny little stone birdhouses, made of stone and cracked and dotted with moss.

"Dammit. I think I took a wrong turn." John mumbled under his breath, scrutinizing the map as he folded it all out to its full volume. "Where are we? This can't be right."

"Hey, dad?" Dean asked, pointing to the tumble of stony birdhouses outside. "What are those? They look like little birdhouses. Maybe that can help you with the map?"

John tore his eyes away from the map to look out his window. "Oh. They're shrines, they're like birdhouses because they are supposed to worship the bird spirits, the angels. We must be in a very superstitious town." He frowned and looked back at the map again. "Huh. Maybe we should just keep driving. We'll find it again, Dean. Just hold on to those flowers, kay kiddo?"

Dean nodded, and the car began moving again. His eyes followed those strange little birdhouses until they were out of view. Who were the bird spirits? And why would they need to be worshipped?

The road began to get bumpier and bumpier and the forrest more woodsy as the trees soon formed a huge, leafy tunnel around the car. Sam woke up with a gasp and clung to Dean's arm as they rattled violently.

"Dean! What's going on?" Sam insisted, almost hitting his head on top of the car with another harsh bump.

"Dad's being stubborn again," Dean shot back quickly, so that he wouldn't bite his tongue on the next bump. He looked out the window and saw a strange statue just in the middle of these woods, abandoned. He only got a quick glance of the mossy stone before the greenery swallowed it up again, but he could have sworn it was a statue of a person with wings, their heads bowed. Was that the bird spirit his dad had mentioned earlier?

The car slammed to a halt, and Sam finally let go from his tight grip on Dean's arm. Dean had a sharp intake of breath- that little statue he'd seen in the woods, another one was here in front of the car, blocking it from going any further.

"Crap." John muttered under his breath and wrenched the car door open. Behind the mossy statue of the angel with a bowed head was a very dark, very long tunnel cutting into a dilapidating red building, round at the top like those mouse holes from Tom & Jerry (Sammy's favorite cartoon).

"This looks suspicous. Look, Dean, Sam, come here. It's not even a real building. It's made of plaster, see?" He knocked on the rusty red, peeling building a few times with his knuckles.

Dean brought his eyebrows together. "I didn't hear anything about a fake building in this town."

John frowned, reaching for his pistol. "Good observation, Dean. Neither did I. This town might not be as safe as I originally thought." He pulled out his gun and cocked it, staring into the deep black void that was the tunnel.

"I need to check this out. Maybe this isn't the town for us, boys. Dean, take your brother and wait in the car."

"But-!" Dean immediately protested, and John put up an irritated finger to stop him. "No buts, kiddo. I'm checking this out, it could be dangerous. I'll be back in ten minutes."

Dean was about to say something but stopped himself, biting the inside of his cheek. "Fine." He bit out, tugging Sammy along by the sleeve back to the Impala. "C'mon, Sammy. Let's go to the car."

They'd been waiting for ten minutes, Dean couldn't tear his eyes away from that dark, dark tunnel that he'd seen his dad disappear into last.

"Dean, I don't like that statue." Sam complained for the tenth time. "It's looking at me."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sammy, quit it. It can't be looking at you, it's head was bowed."

"Dean, I'm serious!" Sam shot back. "Dude, look!"

Dean shuddered. His brother had been right. The angel, wings stretched up to the skies, was now looking directly into the car with stony eyes. "Gaa. Gross." Dean voiced, opening the car door. "C'mon Sammy, this place is giving me the creeps. Let's go find dad."

Sam agreed without protest, tightly clinging to Dean's arm as they stood in front of the arched tunnel. A wind picked up, as if pulling them inside. Dean could have sworn the old red building groaned.

"I don't mind the statue anymore, Dean!" Sam whimpered. "Let's wait in the car, please! Like dad said!"

"Dad said he'd be back in ten minutes, too. We have to find him." Dean said with determination, pretending to not be scared so Sam wouldn't be. But truth was this whole thing was scary as hell to him.

Their footfalls clacked hollowly as they began making their way through the tunnel, darkness swallowing them up.

"Sammy! Don't cling so hard, I'll trip!"

They finally made it out, into a bright, sunny feild. More stone statues lay in the blowing green grasses, most of them were more angels or bird spirits or whatever they were, but some were strange creatures or faces or frogs. Huh, Dean hadn't remembered the sky being this blue from the car. Lush white clouds glided by, and yellow flowers bowed and dipped in the warm breeze. It was almost hard to think of this place as being dangerous, it was so beautiful.

But still, Papa Winchester was nowhere to be seen, so something had to be wrong.

And so their journey began.