So... I'm going waaay back because I decided to rewatch all of Supernatural starting from the very beginning in honor of the 200th episode, because I only started watching consecutively this season. Yeah, Imma dork. But whatever. So, I'm kinda completely rewriting everything after season 1. Because in my opinion, if the car crash hadn't happened, then everything would be different.

Everything.

And I know it's a huge risk writing for a fandom that I don't know EVERYTHING about, and so many people are probably gonna be like "but what about this" and "that's not how Dean/Sam would act" and blah, blah blah. All I'm hearing is Charlie Brown's parents from you guys. I accept suggestions, not complaints. There's a big difference between "Well, in this situation so-and-so did this, so maybe add something like that in?" and "Yeah, that's not how that goes. So fix it." Learn it, people. Learn it.

Yeah. Rant over. Any-whoo... Here's this monster I'm starting.

The car raced down the two-lane highway, high-beams reflecting off the yellow road divider. A doe lifted her head from the noise of the muffler, causing her ears to twitch. As the car sped by, her brown eyes became a glassy yellow. Eyes still wide, she lowered her head and continued to graze the grass she was standing on.

In the backseat of the car, a young man lay breathing heavily. Dried blood, which looked black in the darkness, was caked all over him. Faintly, he heard the conversation of the driver and the front seat passenger, both of whom were beat just as badly as he was. They were speaking harshly, but with low voices. Rolling his eyes slightly, he shut them tighter. The speed his brother was going didn't help his nausea. Losing a vast amount of blood would do that to you.

He heard a horn blare, and tires skidding. Flashing his eyes open, he saw his brother and father, knuckles white from holding onto various things in the vehicle. The car was stopped, lying horizontally on the road. Behind them was the faint red glare of taillights as the huge truck continued away.

"That's what you get for reckless driving, Sammy," the man in the passenger seat hissed, gritting his teeth.

The younger man glared out of the corner of his eyes. "Excuse me for trying to save hemophiliac back there."

Who, me? He raised an eyebrow, shutting his eyes as he heard the tires rotate and his brother hit the gas.

Behind his closed lids, Dean could feel the burn of the fluorescent lights in the hospital. He was vaguely aware of the machines and the noises they made, little beeps and mechanical stuff that soon drifted away. He recognized the familiar feeling of needles being inserted, and he also knew of the euphoric sense created when his favorite sedative slipped through his veins. He didn't even know when he was being wheeled to surgery, or when they had to wake his sleeping father to get his blood type because Dean Winchester wasn't listed in any of the hospital records.

But he was awake when the hot nurse came sauntering into the room the next morning.

"Good morning, Mr. Winchester. I'm just here to check your vitals." The brunette smiled, her deeply browned skin standing out in the crisp light.

Dean chuckled. "Oh trust me, my vitals are just fine." He watched as a heavy blush appeared on her brown cheeks, and he smirked at her firm rear when she leaned over the sink in his room to wash her hands. She glanced over the machines hooked up to his arm and nodded to herself. Pulling a post-it pad and a pen from the pocket on her shirt scrub, she scribbled down some numbers and attached it to the dry erase board on the wall. Writing in those same numbers next to the words printed on it, she turned back to Dean.

"The doctor will be in a second to let you know when you can leave. Your dad and brother are in the waiting room. Er, they should be." She smiled at him and left the room, and he closed his eyes. He heard the door shut and started thinking about the previous night.

The demon was still alive. Still alive and probably possessing someone else to come after them. Is it the doctor? Will it take over me? Sammy? Thousands of thoughts were running through his head, and they stopped when the door opened. Flashing his eyes open, he was faced with another hot woman. Except she was a bit older than he liked.

"Good morning, Dean. I'm just here letting you know that we've completed all the transfusions you need. You can leave as soon as you sign the discharge paperwork. Just try to stay away from bear hunting for a while, okay?" She smiled, patting his foot. Sliding his chart onto the edge of his bed, she pulled out some folded clothes from the cabinet in his room. "Here are your clothes from the other day. I had the nurses wash them for you. There's a shower in the adjoined room if you feel up to moving that much."

He nodded, watching as she gave a final smile and walked out of the room. Groaning to himself, Dean limped his way over to the bathroom and started the shower. Once he was finished, he slipped on his clothes and wound his way out to his room. Both his father and his brother were waiting for him. Sam was sitting in the chair next to his bed, reading some old book with yellowed pages, and his father was standing by the window, staring out into the sunlight. Upon hearing shuffling, both men looked towards the sound, and greeted Dean with huge smiles. "I'm fine," Dean muttered.

"Good. Ready to get outta here?" John Winchester had gained a lot more grey hairs throughout the course of two days, but that was beside the point. His eyes and his smile were as young as when he and his late wife had gotten married; Dean remembered this from when he would look at his father's old photos.

"Yeah." Dean grabbed his bag. He followed the two men out, winking at the nurse sitting at her station. She blushed back, rolling her eyes slightly. John gave his son a smirk while Sam shook his head. They clambered into the Impala, with Sam at the wheel. What? Why him? It's my damn car.

"You can drive when you feel better," John murmured, glancing at his son in the side-view mirror.

"I feel better now," Dean grunted. John chuckled.

"Right. Well, rest up, kid. We have work to do."

"What kind of work?"

"Well, we need to find that damn demon. And... we need to preoccupy ourselves as well."

Sam glanced over at his father. "Meaning what, exactly?"

"I'll go back to strict research while you boys get out there and hunt some more. You need to play up your strengths and fix your weaknesses."

"So we're splitting again? We just talked about this at the hospital, Dad. You said no more."

"I changed my mind. I've been taken by that demon once, it means I'm more susceptible to it again. And I'm not dragging you two into this anymore than you already are."

"Excuse me, but I think we're too damn far into it," Dean interjected, venom laced into his voice. "I mean, I kinda just got outta the hospital from excessive blood loss from this thing beating the shit outta me."

"Exactly. And that can't happen again." John stared out the window at the trees flying by. "Where are we even going?"

"I don't know," was Sam's honest response after a few seconds of deliberation. "Anyone have any suggestions?"

"Back to that damn cabin so I can get my truck and go," John muttered. Sam shook his head.

"No way. You're not getting out of this, Dad. We're all in this. Together."

Dean chuckled. If it weren't for the dreading feeling that was making a nest in the pit of his stomach, he would say things were going on just fine.