Hey guys! Having been on an extended rewatching binge of SPN, my brain started spitting out plans for this fic. I hope you enjoy! This is AU – it's sort of a mash up of season 7 and 11 (no Leviathan) so it's not really following canon (basically imagine Amara turning up in season 7). It starts off as a case fic but will develop beyond that.

oOo

Jamestown, North Dakota

"I just don't get it." Rising up from his squatted position on the floor next to the body, Dean let out an exasperated huff.

"Get what?" Sam asked, murmuring a quick thank you to the uniformed officer he had been chatting to before turning back to his brother. He flipped the cover of his notepad closed and slid it back into the left inside pocket of his suit jacket.

"This," Dean said quietly, waving his hand at the body on the ground. "How is this in anyway our type of case?"

The girl at his feet appeared to be in her late teens. Blond hair splayed out across the pavement, matted and lifeless against the black tarmac. Her head was tilted to the left, her right arm raised and resting while her left arm lay at her side. If she wasn't in the middle of the alley, she'd almost look asleep. Except her eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the wall; the rest of her face contorted in a lasting image of horror and agony. Her legs were bent at an unnatural angle as though she had just crumpled to the floor. The streetlight overhead glistened on the liquid staining the ground beside her throat; an ugly jagged cut stood out starkly against the porcelain skin on her neck.

"According to the uniform over there, the forensic guys were muttering about how odd this was; I fits with what I picked it up on the radio chatter" Sam replied, his brows furrowing as his gaze dropped to the girl. He hunched down. Kept his eyes firmly on the body, away from Lucifer who crouched beside the victim, absentmindedly jabbing into her neck wound with a finger. Sam's stomach roiled nauseatingly. "Look." He shone the light from his phone onto the pool of blood next to her head. Dean bent over, frowning. Sam gestured to the substance. "If Annabel had simply just had her throat slit by her killer before they ran, there would be so much more blood. I'd say there's no more than a pint here, tops. The average person has eight."

"Maybe the killer moved her body" Dean offered, although he doubted the likelihood of that himself. Sam shook his head.

"There's no evidence to suggest the body was moved. So if she's here, where's the rest of her blood?"

"Ah man, I hate playing guess who," Dean grumbled as he rose again. Sam fell into step beside him as they moved back towards the Impala. Ignored Lucifer humming 'I just Died in your Arms'. "Or in our case, guess what? Vampire? Djinn?"

Sam frowned over the roof of the car. "Why would a vampire cut her throat? A djinn could've fed on her for days, using that trick that one used on you years ago." Dean grimaced at the memory; djinn were known for using hallucinogens to incapacitate their victims so that they could prolong their 'use'. "It all seems a bit…messy."

Dean grunted as he slid into the driver's seat. The doors creaked as the boys slammed them shut. "We should see the family and get into the morgue but that's gonna have to wait until the morning." Turning the ignition, the Impala roared to life. "God, I'm starving."

"Dinner and lore it is then."

"I get all tingly when you make such romantic suggestions" Dean grinned. Sam rolled his eyes, already moving his attention to his phone, flinching when Lucifer repeated Dean's words in his ear.

oOo

"Ok, thanks Bobby." Sam ended the call, placing his phone back on the stained coffee table of their motel room. He glanced over at the beds; Dean lay against the headboard, his head drooping, fingers still on his laptop. "Dean!" The older Winchester snorted unceremoniously as he jerked awake, glancing at Sam.

"I wasn't asleep!" He mumbled, arching his back as he stretched. Sam chuckled.

"Right. Because you regularly drool on yourself when you're conscious," he teased. Dean wiped a hand across his face. "I just got off the phone with Bobby. He's as stumped as we are. He said to treat it as though it's a djinn, but to be prepared for something else."

"Silver knives and buckshot it is then" Dean yawned, glancing at the clock. 4.30am. "Jesus, Sammy, go to bed; we'll sort this in the morning." He closed his own laptop and slid it onto the table beside him. Sammy knocked back the final finger of whiskey in his glass before standing and stretching. With his arms above his hand, he could've nearly touched the ceiling.

"What's wrong bunk-buddy; feeling tired?" Same winced as Lucifer whispered, almost seductively, in his ear. His arms fell and he clenched his left hand in his right, pressing his thumb viciously into the still-healing wound of his palm.

Make it stone number one and build on it.

Lucifer vanished with a snigger. Sam sighed with relief; he'd managed to ignore the hallucination for most of the day. It felt like progress. He glanced back at Dean as he moved across the room; his brother was half-watching him through drooping eyelids. He knew Sam still hallucinated but he didn't pressure him. He was stone number one and that's what Sam had to cling to. Flopping down onto the dilapidated mattress that squeaked horrendously as he landed on it, Sam kicked his shoes off and curled onto his side, hugging the pillow beneath his head. Sleep came quickly.

The dreams were quicker.

oOo

Please review!