Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, Dean or Sam, I'm just borrowing them and I give them back when I have finished

After five years Shape shifter Michael Sheridan still felt the pain at losing a son. He had waited patiently; carefully carving out his plan, the timing had to be right, the place exact for him to carry out his revenge on the hunter who killed is son, John Winchester.

Dean's 16. Sam's 12.

THE LONG HOT SUMMER OF 95

Virginia, Summer of 95

Chapter One

Ex-marine and now local radio DJ Bob Mackenzie could already feel the heat rising in his stuffy soundproof studio as the wall clock struck 9 o'clock, above the clock the red light came on announcing that he was now on air and that his show had started "Good Morning to all of my faithful listeners out there, you're listening to VPRS and as always I'm Mad Bob Mackenzie. And today I'm going to playing you some of the coolest and sweetest music around on this fine hot summer's morning. And as always if there anyone out there who would like to get something off their chests; something that you feel so strongly about that you want to share your views with us on air then just give us a call, we would like to hear from you". His small switchboard immediately lighted up with an incoming call "looks like we have a caller already folks" Wiping the forming sweat from his forehead he put the caller on air "good morning you're live on the Virginia Public Radio Station and what's on your mind this fine beautiful morning?"

Peering through the drugstore window Michael Sheridan's voice was soft and low as he watched the two Winchester boys inside browsing the items on the shelves "children are precious don't you think?"

"They sure are" although children and marriage hadn't been for him, he had always preferred his own company, but that didn't mean he was celibate and as far as he was aware his one night stands hadn't produced any little Mackenzie's which was fine by him.

Seeing the Winchester boys' father Michael Sheridan's voice turned hard and cold, he had waited so long, five years to be exact. Five years of planning every detail of his revenge, this wasn't just about making John Winchester suffer, this was about tearing his world apart, he want him to know what the pain of losing a son felt like "That's why I'm going to murder one of them" Michael Sheridan said before abruptly ending his call.

Bob Mackenzie was struck speechless as the phone connection died and he was left listening to dead air. If this guy thought children were so precious why would he want to kill one? His manager's frantic circular motions with his index finger for him to play some music caught his eye. Pulling himself together he flicked the switch just as his switchboard started going crazy with incoming calls, he ignored them; he couldn't answer his own questions let alone theirs.

Seeing the Winchesters leaving the store Sheridan stepped forward, it would be so easy now to take out his gun and take his revenge, but then all his planning would be for nothing. As he neared he continued to observe the two boys, noticing how close they seemed whilst their father on the other hand was the opposite, more distant, more of an authoritative figure to the two boys. He was so close now as he walked within inches of John Winchester, so close he could smell the hunters' cheap aftershave as his son's murder as continued to load his drugstore purchases into the boot of the impala. He could hardly keep himself from smirking, because in this skin John Winchester would never recognise him; the man had no idea what lengths he had taken in planning his revenge.

XXXX

Hours later and Michael Sheridan had once again changed skins, this time he was Burt Miller, a stressed middle aged company director with greying hair and a growing stomach ulcer; also he was father of his intended victim. While he waited outside the school gates for Burt Miller's sixteen year old son Andrew he looked at himself in the side view mirror of his borrowed Porsche. Wiping away a layer of sweat from his red buffed out cheeks, he disliked how overweight this skin felt, how heavy and uncomfortable it was but he only had to wear it for a few hours then he would take great pleasure in discarding it like a snake shedding it skin. Taking on someone else's skin was easy, the difficult part was maintaining it; now that took practice .

Andrew Scott Miller pulled off his school tie as he walked out of the gates, he wasn't expecting his father to pick him up, more times than not he was working late, but today he couldn't believe his eyes when he saw him there standing next to a shiny new black Porsche "wow dad"

Michael Sheridan turned or rather Burt Miller did to see an excited wide eyed sixteen year old son "You like it then" he asked

As Andrew moved towards the hood he couldn't take his eyes of the car "oh yeah... she's a beauty but where did you get it?"

"A friend of mine loaned it to me" a friend who thought he was someone else, opening the passenger side door he gestured towards the passenger seat "How about we take it for a spin?"

Andrew ran his finger over the shiny hood "you don't have to work late dad" work always came first, he hardly had any time for him.

"Change of plan, my appointment cancelled; so?" downloading Burt Miller's thoughts he had learnt that the guy was an idiot, he took his family for granted; he desired to lose his son, maybe then he would appreciate what he had lost.

Driving them out into the country Michael Sheridan pulled the Porsche to a stop on a lonely dirt road and climbed out. Rounding the back of the car he opened the boot; seeing what he needed he reached in and grabbed the crowbar.

"Why've we stopped here?" Andrew asked as he turned in his seat to see his father getting out and heading to the back of the car; "shouldn't we be heading home, you know what mom's like if were late for dinner" Puzzled when his father didn't reply Andrew climbed out and followed his father to the back of the car.

Hearing footsteps nearing on the dry dust road Sheridan lifted the crowbar and leashed out, catching Andrew across his temple as he round end of the car.

Sheridan watched as the sixteen year hit the floor hard, satisfied with his handy work he looked round making sure that no one had seen before he dumped Andrew's unconscious body into the boot of the Porsche. It was a tight fit but with a little adjustment to the sixteen year olds long limps he achieved it. Closing the boot he checked his watch before climbing back behind the wheel and taking off towards his temporary accommodations, an old abandoned railroad building; it's only occasional passers-by's were the trains heading into town.

XXXX

Four days had passed since the mysterious phone call and mad Bob Mackenzie had convinced himself that it was just some sick nut job playing a joke until he received an A4 sized brown plain envelope in the morning post; on the label his name and address of the Radio Station was printed in bright red ink. He thought it was strange; no one ever used red ink. Opening it he found inside a clipping from a local Virginia newspaper about a missing boy. His heart missed a beat as he read the article. Two days ago sixteen year old Andrew Scott Miller went missing on his way home from school. When he disappeared he was wearing a blue school uniform. He's approx. 5ft 8inches tall and weighs about 142lbs with short blonde hair and blue eyes. His parents are frantic for any information; if anyone has seen him would they contact the number shown below or the local police department. Bob's switchboard suddenly lighted up announcing an incoming call, he looked at the clock 8.45am he hadn't gone on air yet but somehow he knew it was him, the caller. Dry and a little shaky his voice sounded foreign to his own ears as he answered "hello, this is Mad Bob Mackenzie"

From his black van parked outside the school gates Michael Sheridan sat watching the school boys as they arrived for their morning lessons, he spoke quietly into his cell phone "Did you get the envelope I sent you?"

"Yes" Bob answered before his unvoiced thoughts got the better of him, they started to tumbled from his mouth "but why are you doing this, what do you want?" but even then why me when unasked, somehow he didn't want to know why this man had chosen him or was it just the radio station

"To show you'll that I am a man of my word" Michael Sheridan saw the Winchester's black impala pull up outside the school gates, he glanced at his watch, they were right on time, as usual with military precision.

"I'll ring again same time tomorrow; make sure your old marine buddy John Winchester is there" Sheridan watched the two Winchester boys climbed out of the impala before it move off and continued it journey down the road

"John Winchester, but… but I haven't seen him or spoken to him in years, not since I left the marines how am I supposed to find him by tomorrow?" Bob Mackenzie questioned, he couldn't image what John Winchester had to do with this

"That's down to you or the boy's death will be on your hands" Sheridan ended the call, his eyes fixed on the taller of the two Winchester boys, hearing a noise in the back of the van he turned to check on his captive "the kid's coming round give him another dosage" he informed his brother as he turned back to see that the two Winchester boys were now heading into the school yard, starting the engine he headed in the same direction of the impala, he was in no rush to keep up with the impala, he knew exactly where John Winchester would be today.

Sitting next to his younger brother James Sheridan turned to look at the tied up sixteen year old in the back of the van "You sure about this Mickey, I mean killing them, it's one thing getting your revenge on John Winchester but these kids are innocent, they've done nothing wrong?" he wanted revenge for his nephew's murder just as much as his brother but using these kids just to get back at John Winchester, he wasn't so sure about. Loyalty always came first and he would never disobey his brother. They hadn't killed before; until that night they had been part of a small group of travellers wishing to be left alone to travel the back roads. Since then his brother's days had been spent carving out his revenge, but if this was what Mickey wanted then he would do it.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly Michael Sheridan felt his anger rising, snapping back "So was my Tommy, he was only sixteen" he wanted revenge for so long he could taste it now; he wanted John Winchester down on his knees begging him not to kill his son.

James had first-hand experience at not angering his brother; Michael had inherited his father's temper and his right hook "Ok" he replied before obediently climbing over the bench seat into the back of the moving van. kneeling down he turned the sixteen year old over on to his back, as he did he heard a faint slurred drug induced whimper "Please dad, why"

"Shh...shh" James soothed as he injected the needle into the teenager's arm "It's alright, everything's going to be alright"

"No Dad, please don't" James watched as the teenage once again slip back into a deep sleep

The radio had been playing low but now Michael Sheridan turned it up to listen to the male news broadcaster "The search continues for the missing sixteen year old boy Andrew Scott Miller who went missing on his way home from school four days ago. The police haven't ruled out the possibility that Andrew knew his abductor, his parents are convinced that he would never accept a lift from a stranger, they say he was a responsible boy who always told then where he was going if he wasn't going be home on time"

Michael Sheridan smirked proudly as he informed the news broadcaster "Oh he knew him alright"

XXXX

Sixteen year old Dean Winchester climbed out of the impala, slinging his school bag over his right shoulder; he turned to see his younger brother climbing out of the back. Putting on his sunglasses he half-heartedly shouted back "Yeah Dad, I've got it"

"I mean it Dean, straight home after school, that's an order" John bellowed through the open passenger side window. It was going to be another hot day and he didn't relish the thought of working in a hot workshop but they needed the money, paying jobs were scarce in the monster killing world, so he welcomed a couple of weeks work at the Hoffman's Garage. He was hoping that as soon as school ended for the summer Dean could get a job which would bring in some extra cash.

Dean did a quick salute to his father as the impala pulled away from the curb, looking round the school yard his saw his latest conquest Hannah Slade, she was heading towards the main school entrance "I'll see you later squirt" he shouted over his shoulder at his younger brother Sam as he headed in Hannah's direction, he couldn't help but admire her slender body and her long tanned legs.

Sam on the other hand was distracted by the same dirty black van he had seen yesterday and the day before, and as the previous two days it pulled out and headed down the road in the same direction as the impala. Sam tried to take note of the number plate but it was to caked up in mud, turning Sam saw his older brother heading across the school yard towards Hannah Slade "Dean" he shouted after him but he wasn't surprised when his brother didn't answer him. Sam shook his head in amazement, just lately his brother had a one track mind, girls, girls and oh yeah more girls, seeing his friend Dillon coming up from the school bike shed Sam decided to caught up with him "hey, Dillon wait up"

Dillon stopped and turned at the sound of his name, seeing Sam he waited for him "Hi Sam, what you doing for the summer holidays" he asked, his mum was throwing him a pool party before he left for Florida to stay with his dad for the entire summer, which he wasn't looking forward too, he didn't spend much time with his dad, not since his parents split up and his dad had a new girlfriend

"We'll be moving on, dad's work take us all over" Sam sighed he wished he didn't have to keep changing schools, if only he could be more like his brother; Dean didn't get attached to places or friends or even girls, he was a bit of a loner.

"That must suck big time, having to make new friends all the time" Dillon replied as they walked into class, he liked Sam he wished he had more friends like him

"You're telling me" but at least he had Dean, Dean wasn't just his brother he was also his best friend.

"I'm having a pool party, you're coming right?" it was going to be great, especially if Sam was there

Sam had never been to a pool party before; he would have to ask Dean though but he couldn't see it being a problem "Sure"

TBC