This takes place shortly after the events of the Supernatural Season 2 Finale and Stephanie Meyer's New Moon. If you haven't read/watched either of those, I suggest you do so now.

Also, if anyone knows of another crossover between these two fandoms, please let me know. I only wrote this because I got tired of looking.

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BADUM-WHAP. BADUM-WHAP.

Dean Winchester threw his rubber ball a little harder than necessary this time, irritable with the delay. He had been cooped up in a tiny motel room with his brother, Sam, for days, waiting for the uproar caused by their last job to die down or for a new job to surface, whichever happened first. Neither brother was particularly worried that the cops would stumble across their drab room, so neither wanted to risk driving brazenly out of town unless there was a good reason.

Until that reason was found, Dean was discovering just how far that little vein in the side of Sam's neck could bulge. Bouncing a ball off the ceiling and the back wall so it barely missed his brother's head seemed to be doing wonders for his research into this vital matter. Not to mention serving the double purpose of keeping Dean's mind off other matters.

Finally, just when Dean had managed to perfect his throw – and concentration - to the point where he could get the ball within two inches of his brother's head and not think of the gates of Hell at the same time, Sam's hand snaked out, caught the ball, and shoved it into his pocket in one smooth move, spinning in his chair as he did so.

"I have something." The gleam in his eye told Dean this was going to be interesting.

"Finally!" Dean bounced himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, glad for the distraction. "Please tell me it's a good one."

"Oh, it's good all right." Sam sighed. "Forks, Washington. Hikers have been disappearing from the forest around the town. The theory is bear attack."

"Wendigo?"

"Could be. However, the search parties found huge animal tracks around the abandoned campsites and lots of blood. And hikers have reported seeing huge animals roaming the forests."

"Ok, I'll bite," Dean said. "What makes you think it's not a Wendigo? Aside from the funky tracks or whatever."

"Well, for one thing, the tracks have the police stumped – they're not bear tracks, but they're too big to be anything else."

"And…?" Dean gestured for Sam to get to the point.

"And one body has been found." Sam raised an eyebrow significantly. "It was completely drained of blood."

Dean pumped a fist into the air. "Houston, we have a vampire." He rubbed his hands together gleefully as he paced the room. "Ok, the machetes are nice and sharp – hey, do you think we should stock up on dead man's blood, just in case? Guess we should wait 'til dark to leave, just in case the sheriff's better than we think – "

"Wait, Dean," Sam growled. "I wasn't finished."

"Not finished? C'mon, Sam, you just said they were vampires."

"Yeah, it looks like that. But what about the big animals? The weird tracks?"

"Look, if you got a better idea – "

"I checked the local legends," Sam interrupted. "There's an Indian tribe – the Quileute. They have a legend that certain members of the tribe can have the ability to turn into giant wolves. It's not just during certain points in the lunar cycle, either. This lycanthropy only develops when there are what they call 'cold ones' around, and then the guy can turn into a wolf whenever he wants to. From the description, it sounds like the cold ones are vampires, but not any kind we've ever dealt with."

Dean grinned. "Vampires and werewolves? Dude, what are we waiting for?"

Sam pressed his lips together irritably. "Dean, stop looking like Christmas came early. It sounds like we could be walking into a war here."

"Fine, dude, I'm being serious," Dean rolled his eyes and settled back onto the edge of the bed. "So, new breed of werewolf, new breed of vampire. Does it say what can kill them?"

Sam shook his head. "The legend just makes it sound like one can kill the other. It doesn't say anything about humans getting involved."

Dean stood and clapped Sam on the back. "Well, someone in town's gotta know. That's what we've got your big Bambi eyes for. Now, it'll be dark soon, so get your gear together." He began shoving his belongings into his bag, mind already on the hunt ahead.

Slightly more reluctantly, Sam complied.