Inheritance

A/N: This story relies heavily on original characters. I hope you guys don't mind. I've just had this plotbunny hopping around in my head for weeks and I just had to write it!

I'm not exactly sure about the timeline of this, but I know that they do have the bunker, if that helps.

I hope you guys enjoy, and please leave some feedback.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. They belong to Eric Kripke.

A/N 2: I noticed a slight continuity error in this chapter, plus some typos and other errors in the other chapters, so I went ahead and fixed them.

Chapter 1

Dean pulled into the motel parking lot, with Sam asleep in the passenger seat. He parked the Impala, slamming on the brakes in the process, startling Sam awake.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean exclaimed, pounding on the steering wheel in his frustration.

"Hm? Wuz that?" Sam said, still groggy from his nap. He sat up and rubbed sleep from his eyes with a yawn, stretching as much as he could in the small space of the Impala's cab.

"Ya know, it's probably just going to be the same damn thing at this place too!" Dean nearly shouted, gesturing around him, referring to the town in which they had just arrived.

Sam, having woken up a bit more, seemed unconcerned with his brother's outburst. "Yeah, well. At least we can check it out." He opened his door and climbed out of the car. Once he was able to stretch and fully extend his limbs to their maximum reach, he leaned back down to look at Dean, who was still fuming in the driver's seat. "Why don't you get out, take a stretch and try to cool off while I get us a room?"

"I don't need to cool off, dammit, I need to hunt something!" Dean snapped, striking the steering wheel again.

"Dean!"

Dean finally looked up at his little brother with a huff. "Yeah, alright." Dean begrudgingly agreed and climbed out of Baby.

This was the fourth town that they had come to on the heels of some supernatural whatsit in the last 2 weeks. The first town they went to had, as the local newspapers described, "a wild animal epidemic". Victims turned up with their necks torn out and a mysterious lack of blood to boot. Sam and Dean of course came to the conclusion that vampires had nested somewhere in the vicinity.

So, of course, they high tailed it to the small Nebraska town. They did their usual research: FBI get-ups, witness reports, examining dead bodies, etc. Eventually, they got out a map and marked the places where the bodies were found. They then discovered that all of the bodies were in a bit of a circular pattern and right in the middle was an old, rundown sawmill that had gone out of use a few decades before. That seemed like the perfect place for vamps to nest.

As soon as they discovered it, the brothers stormed the place one bright afternoon, machetes drawn, dead man's blood at the ready, only to discover that the nest had already been cleared. They didn't see any vamps, but there were obvious signs that the mill had been inhabited: a few dusty old mattresses, some empty liquor bottles, and of course streaks of blood on the walls, and puddles on the floors. They checked the whole building from top to bottom, but didn't come across any vamps.

Once the two made sure that there were no surprises lurking anywhere inside the building, they decided to do a quick sweep of the surrounding property. That's when they discovered it, behind the building about 30 yards out: a mass grave. Bodies had been piled up and burned to cinders. There were a few skulls and a some other smallish bones that survived the blaze, and upon further inspection, they found that the skulls did in fact have fangs.

The boys had no clue who could have done this. If Gordon were still alive they would have suspected him, since vampires were his specialty. As it was, they were just grateful that some other hunter, or hunters, had the courtesy to do their job for them. They left the old mill, but stayed in town for another day, just in case one or two vamps had escaped the massacre of their nest and started killing again. Once the brothers were satisfied that there was nothing left to do, Sam found them another hunt and they were on their way to Connecticut, for what appeared to be a windego.

However, when they got there, it was the same story: they took their time to investigate, only to find that the creature had already been destroyed, and its hostages released. Dean and Sam where a little frustrated that they wasted their time again, but at least they didn't have to deal with it. Sam found them another mission and they were off.

However, once they got to the third location, only to find that they were once again a day late and a dollar short, that's when Dean decided to start taking it personally. Sam on the other hand was just glad that he and his brother weren't the only ones risking their necks trying to keep people safe. Their job wasn't exactly the safest, and as a result other hunters were few and far between and sometimes it seemed like he and Dean were the only ones still left in the game. Sam knew that wasn't true, but it still felt that way sometimes and he was just happy to see evidence that he and his brother weren't the only ones left fighting the good fight.

So now here they were in the fourth town, somewhere in Oregon. Dean was positive that they were just going to run into another dead end. He was pacing in the parking lot, his breath puffing out of him in great clouds from the chill of the late October evening.

He was so engrossed in his own musings that he didn't even notice the huge, black Dodge Ram barreling through the parking lot, heading straight for him. The honking horn and blinding light caught his attention and he dived out of the way before being mowed down. The truck came to an abrupt stop in front of one of the rooms and the engine cut off.

"Hey, asshole, watch were you're going!" Dean shouted at the driver before they even got out of their vehicle. He stood up, brushing gravel from his elbows as he did.

The driver hopped out of the truck and turned to Dean. "I don't have time to deal with morons, alright buddy. Just do me a favor and go screw yourself, huh?"

Dean was taken aback for a moment. He hadn't expect someone so small to be driving a vehicle so large. The woman couldn't have been more that 5 foot 5. Dean watched as she quickly stepped up on the back wheel of her truck and hefted a duffle bag out of the bed that looked to be nearly the same size as she was. With her burden slung over her back, she stormed to her room, unlocked the door and slammed it closed on her way in.

Dean, finally having regained his composure and shouted, "Yeah that's right. Walk away!" Of course he realized he'd said it too late for his retort to have any effect. He was just happy that no one was around to witness his minor blunder.

"Uh, Dean?"

Dean paused before he swung around to find the cautiously confused face of his brother staring at him. "Hey Sam."

"Hey. You okay?"

"Yeah," Dean said, a bit abashedly. He knew it must've looked like he was just crazily shouting at the open air. "Just some... jerk... nearly ran me over!" Dean said, with a bit of a huff.

"Oh. Well, you sure you're okay then?" Sam asked, his brow knit with a bit of concern, looking his brother up and down. Dean didn't look like he was injured, but he just wanted to be sure.

"Yeah, yeah, Sammy. I'm alright." Dean waved his off his little brother's concerns and gave a quick glare towards the door that that woman had gone through.

Sam's eyes darted to the door that Dean was eyeing and said, "Alright... you wanna help me with the bags?"

"Yeah, okay," Dean agreed and popped the trunk. The two grabbed their bags and headed for the room that Sam had procured for them. Dean was happy that they were a few doors down from the woman that almost killed him, so that they wouldn't have to share a wall with her. Who knows what kind of noises a woman like that could make during the night. Dean grimaced when he realized that he could've worded that better.

He was still pissed, dammit, and he didn't want to think of her like that. Yet. He didn't want to think about how smooth her rich, caramel-colored skin looked. Nope. He also didn't wanna think about how her jeans stretched so perfectly over her legs and ass as she stepped up on the wheel of her truck to grab her duffle from the back. He also didn't want to admit that, even thought she was only a little over 5 ft, he had felt just a bit intimidated by her. Uh-uh. He couldn't think like that. The woman almost killed him after all! No, Dean really wanted to know was who the hell was poaching all of their hunts. He voiced his concern to Sam.

"Dean, I doubt it was the same guy, or guys, at every location. There are other hunters out there. Not just us, and not just one other guy."

Dean of course knew that Sam was right, but he wouldn't be placated just yet. "Look, Sammy, I don't need your friggin' logic, okay?" Dean said with a scowl, bobbing his head a bit as he stressed the word 'logic'.

Sam raised his hands in defeat and walked away. He knew from experience that there was no talking to his big brother when he got into one of his moods. So he just headed to the bathroom for a quick shower to wash away the grime of the road before heading to bed. It was late, and he figured they could get a fresh start on the case in the morning. He also figured he could get a bit of revenge on his brother for being such a mopey brat by using up as much of the hot water as he could before Dean got his turn. Sam knew that probably wasn't the best tactic to use, since it would most likely just cause Dean to be even more irate. But Sam figured, what the hell? Why not have a little fun at his brother's expense? Maybe the jerk would lighten the hell up!