Carver is my own character in the story line.

It was swift. A single blow to the back of the head with a iron bar and the task was done. It wasn't elegant, nor pretty, but Carver knew it was the right thing to do.

He had been watching the man since this morning when Carver ran into him. The man wore a suit that time, a blue one with a red a white striped tie that screamed he was single. Single and very much alone. It didn't take Carver long to find the Hunter either.

The stood silently in the backdrop of human living. No one saw them and if they did, it wasn't for a long time. Nobody drew them, no one stopped to take a picture with them. What ever they were, Carver knew that they were bad news for anyone.

Carver glanced around him, keeping a sharp eye on the rooftops and the shadows. All he had to do was making to the van across the street and he would and his hostage would be safe from the creatures. With one more quick glance out into the street, Carver picked up the unconscious man and bolted across the street. A few more steps was all he needed...

Carver hit a wall. Blood sprayed from his broken nose where it collided with the brick. The sharp wail of a siren filled the air and he cringed, though dizziness threatened to overwhelm him. Grabbing his nose, he took a strep back and studied where he was.

Lights gleamed with an almost unearthly quality around him, leaving Caver slightly blinded with color. The smell of alcohol and urine was prevalent in the alley that he stood in, while sharp cries of laughter and voices came from beyond the entryway. He could see that graffiti covered the walls with slang and other more obscene pictures. Carver eyed the art distastefully.

But something was off, very off. Where silence once loomed like a giant bird sweeping upon its meal, noises cried out with happy laughter. Where death had become so commonplace to that the appearance of another body was no issue, now seemed to be sliced by the sound of engines and sirens.

Carver stumbled out of the alleyway, still holding his nose. Blood dripped in slow patterns across his green v neck shirt as he made his way to the nearest bar. Country music blared shrilly from the underneath a broken Coors sign and Carver sighed. Why was it always country music?

Opening the door slowly, Carver felt as the smoky, stuffy air enveloped him and began wading through the crowd top the men's room.

Sam saw him first. The man nearly stood as tall he did, his black hair tied back into a tight ponytail. His green shirt was covered in blood and he was holding his nose carefully. A broken nose must have been the cause of the blood, but. Sam tapped Dean's hand gently and nodded towards the door. Dean glanced up from his beer and following his younger brother's gaze, caught sight of the bear like man move past them. Waiting for the right time, both brothers stood and made their to the men's room as well.

Carver saw them in the mirror as soon as they entered, sizing him up. Suspicion flooded his injured system. The men seemed to be working tag team, the short one probably the muscle. Carver's hand slid slowly to the knife he wore on his belt, the horned handle etched with runes...

" I wouldn't do that if I were you." The tall one spoke. His height would have been enough to intimidate any man, but Carver was not amused.

" You heard him buddy. Just leave the knife alone before things get ugly." The phrase was short and simple. Carver inclined his head slightly, eyes locked onto the reflections of the men behind him.

" I don't want any trouble." He spoke firmly, blood still running in streams from his nostrils. " Neither do we. We were just curious what happened to you?"

" What? Are you two good Samaritans or something?" Carver scoffed. Turning on the faucet, he quickly wiped the blood away and rinsed his hands off. The short one sighed.

" We are tracking a vampire. We were just curious if you were tracking it as well." Carver stared at the reflections hard.

" What year is it?" The men smiled. " Its 2015. How much did you have to drink tonight?"

Carver felt his heart stop. 2015. It couldn't be. He leaned against the sink heavily, gazing at his whitening knuckles. 2015, nearly 40 years into the past. Carver roared in anger and hit the sink with enough force to crack the reinforced porcelain.

" I should have known. They would have been waiting." He began pacing like a caged tiger, every movement supercharged with fury. The other men stepped back, their hands on their own weapons.

" Whoa buddy, what's wrong?" Carver barely acknowledged them. His mind was in his own world.

"40 years. 40 damn years. I should have known. I should have seen them coming." Carver turned and slammed his fist into the mirror. Silver shards flew everywhere, cutting into exposed flesh like razors. The two men were still in the room with him, yet their eyes never seemed to show the fear that he brought along with him. Once more, he looked at the two men before stopping his tirade he leaning his head against the fractured mirror frame.

When he finally spoke, Sam and Dean shivered. His voice seemed to echo from the deepest well, summoning down doom from the heavens.

"Venite, filii, audite me. Stellae angeli venerunt tibi. Circumdato habere lapidem tempore angelos advenisse liberisque omnibus ad finem vitae."

Dean glanced over at Sam who had his eyes closed, listening.

"Come my children and listen to me. The angels have come from the stars you see. Wrapped in stone and wielding time, the angels have come my children, to end all of our lives. "

Sam opened his eyes to find both Dean and the stranger gazing at him in wonder. Dean blinked, breaking the moment. " What was that?" Sam shrugged.

" I was just translating. That is what he said." Dean looked away and shrugged the information away. " Well, next time don't make it so creepy sounding."

Sam went to protest, but Dean's attention was back on the stranger.

" What's this about angels wrapped in stone and wielding time?"

" Its an old nursery rhyme that my father would tell me. He said that it was invented after the first wave came. You see, when the first wave hit, entire cities vanished off the map, it was like they didn't even exist. Some noticed, such as my father and some others. But most people didn't. The only reason I know of them is because that is what we hunt."

" So your're a hunter?" Carver nodded. The two men before smiled broadly.

" Welcome aboard. I'm Dean." The short one held out his hand to shake. " And this is my brother Sam."

" Carver." He shook Dean's hand warmly. " Johnathon Carver."