Disclaimer: Wishin' and hopin' and prayin'…and still nothin'

A/N: This was written for this year's KazCon contest. It's really two missing scenes and two tags for "In The Beginning" (KazCon is held in Lawrence, so the stories had to center around this season's only Lawrence episode). Because they're really four separate mini-stories, I'm posting them separately, even though they aren't very long. They should all be posted over the next 7-10 days. Hope you like them.

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CONCERTO FOR LAWRENCE

BY: MistWraith

1. Allegro Furiouso

Dean floored the accelerator, not that it mattered all that much in a damn Pinto. More than ever, he wished he was driving his baby. This thing wasn't much better than the four-legged kind of horsepower.

He glanced briefly at the weapon resting on the seat next to him. It looked no more dangerous than an ordinary gun. A collector would probably admire the unusual design on the barrel, though he would puzzle over the incised pentagrams and the inscription. "Non timebo mala." "I do not fear evil."

"Glad that makes one of us," Dean muttered.

Elkins had surprised him. The hunter had trusted him, a stranger. Had let him leave with the Colt. Most of the hunters Dean had run across were suspicious by nature. He couldn't imagine any of them letting an unknown walk off with something like this weapon. He'd gotten the impression, back—ahead---in 2006 that Elkins was a hermit, and more than a bit loony to boot. A warning, maybe, about what growing old as a hunter could do to you. Good thing Dean never intended to be an old hunter. Or an old anything, for that matter.

And somewhere along the way, his Dad and Elkins had had a falling out—well, now, wasn't that a surprise!—because for some reason, Elkins wouldn't tell Dad he had the gun. Dean wondered briefly why, but, hell, this was Dad they were talking about and Job probably would have taken a spear to Dad if they'd ever met.

His eyes fell on the dashboard clock and his lips thinned in a grim smile. Too much time already lost. He didn't want to give that yellow-eyed son-of-a-bitch a chance to take off. Finding him again might be impossible, especially as he didn't know how long Castiel would keep him here in the past. His anger flared. Damn Castiel, for putting him in this position and then trying to make him feel guilty about taking action! He didn't need some I-haven't-been-among-humans-in-two-thousand-years angelic dick to remind him about the flip side of stopping the demon. That his family wouldn't become hunters and people would die. But, damn it, it wasn't like the time with the Djinn. This time, there was a balance, because Azazel wouldn't be there to destroy all the people he would if he lived.

And Dean couldn't just let his family pay the price a second time. He'd done it once, but not again. He could give his mother her dearest wish.

"You know the worst thing I can think of - the very worst thing -- is for my children to be raised into this, like I was."

He brushed a shaky hand across his suddenly-watery eyes. One thing he had always held onto was that he was doing good by hunting and his mother would have been proud of that, if she'd known.

He thought of his father. Did you know, you obsessed son-of-a-bitch? Yeah, she probably didn't tell you about her family, but did you ever figure anything out, huh? After the fire, after everything went down? Did you have any idea that what you did was the last thing she would have wanted? That turning her kids into hunters would have destroyed her? Then again, in the end, it wasn't about Mom anymore, was it? It was about you and your vengeance!

Damn you, Dad. Damn you for destroying it all.

The solitary Pinto raced on, toward a meeting with his past and his future.