Prologue

"Come on, Sammy, pick up!"

Stranded on the side of the road was not the ideal place Dean Winchester wanted to be at the moment. With his baby, a '67 Chevy Impala, smoking from the hood on a deserted street in the middle of a non-existant town on the map, he wasn't very happy. Growling, he ended the hundreth call to his brother Sam, throwing the phone on the seat next to him.

After leaving Sam at the motel they were staying at to go look up some information on a case they were doing, Dean was in such a hurry that he never realized the the check engine light was on in his dash and now he wished he'd been more observant. Of course, at the most opportune time, Sam decided that he wasn't going to pick up his phone. He didn't really have anyone else to call. Bobby was in Vermont, states away and there was no way he was going to get his wheel chair inhabitied ass out of it to come and save his.

"Well... I guess I have to leave you here Baby." he said quietly speaking to his car. With a sigh, he got out of the car, grabbing his duffle bag out of the back seat and shoving his phone into his pocket. After locking up the car, he looked at his surroundings, trying to see where he should go to find somewhere to sleep and a place to get some good warm apple pie. Deciding to go right, he followed the paved road that seemed to go forever. After what felt like a good hour, with no call from Sam, he reached a small bridge with a sign reading "WELCOME TO MYSTIC FALLS"

Why did that sound so familiar? Dean thought to himself as he crossed the bridge, seeing house developments. Small little cookie cutter houses you'd see straight from one of those Martha Stewart magazines that were given in motels. The large porch with a bench swing and the perfect mowed lawn. It was almost sickening. It had to be around eleven, so most of the people in this town were probably asleep so Dean kept quiet as he passed the homes. Eventually after the long walk through the neighborhood, he came across town square where it looked like all the teens were at. They were scattered across the grass in the park, chatting and looking up at the sky, mumbling incoherant things probably caused by the alcohol in their hands.

Dean spotted a small grill up ahead, with the lights still on and people coming in and out meaning they were open. He practically jogged across the park, catching a few stares from the drunk teens laying in the grass. That really didn't matter to him at the moment. He needed food and some good beer. The first thing he realized is that the place was crowded, meaning this was one of the only resturaunts in town, which hopefully meant the food was good. He walked up to the bar, setting his bag on the floor next to the chair and sat, looking at the back wall of alcohol.

Chattering and laughs were all Dean could hear, other than the sharp clicking sounds as the pool sticks hit the ball and glasses clinking in the back room. A young teen approaching him caught his attention away from the old alcohol collection on the wall.

'Matt' was what his name tag read.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked, wiping his hands on a dish towel before tossing it onto his shoulder.

Dean pursed his lips, looking at the back wall again before nodding. "Yeah, can I just get a beer? Make that two. And do you guys have pie or a hardy burger?" he asked, looking over at the kid.

Matt reached under the counter and materialized two beers and set them in front of Dean. "We have both. Though I wouldn't recomment the cherry pie. Its not very good. Apparently its the chef's grandma's special recipe." he rolled his eyes. "It tastes like stale feet."

Dean chuckled. "Alright. Well how about a good burger and a slice of apple pie." he said, taking a drink from the beer.

Matt nodded as he wrote it down on a note pad from his pocket. "Alright... i'll get that for you as soon as I can." he said before walking away to the other side of the bar. Dean sighed, grateful for the ice cold liquid sliding down his throat. He really needed to work out more. You'd think that with his job, he'd be in better shape to walk a few miles. Nope. He felt as if he just ran a marathon. His legs were burning and his muscles were sore. That reminded him. He'd have to ask the Matt kid if there were any motels in this tiny town. Swiveling around in his chair, her looked around the small grill. Tacky tables and chairs were set around the lower half of the room, people inhabiting most of them. On the upper half were pool tables, with some air hockey and what looked like arcade games. He nodded in approval. Pretty impressive compared to most of the little towns him and Sam had seen. He pulled out his phone to see that there were still no calls or texts from his brother .

"Damn him." Dean growled, shoving the phone back in his pocket.

Suddenly a large place was put in front of him, a monsterous burger with a small slice of steaming, crisp, brown apple pie on the side. Just looking at it made his mouth water.

"There you go, man. Eat up. You look exhausted. Long night?" Matt asked, a smirk on his lips.

Dean laughed, shaking his head. "No. I wish. Hey so are there any places I can stay tonight? Like a motel or something?" he asked as he stuffed his mouth with a chunk of the apple pie.

"Yeah if you go to the other side of City Hall, there's a little hotel. Kinda sketch if you ask me. No one usually visits here. Where you from?"

Dean quickly thought of a lie. "Colorado. Just passing through." he said, giving Matt a smirk.

Matt nodded. "Thats awesome. Be happy that you've been places. I've never stepped foot out of this town." he mumbled, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"You'll get out of here eventually. Don't even worry about it." he laughed. This Matt kid reminded him of Sam. The innocent kid face, the sad looking in his eyes. Quite pathetic but it reminded him none the less.

"Hey Matt, can I get some refills?" a feminine voice asked right next to him.

Turning to her, he barely caught himself from spitting his food out.

She was gorgeous. She had to be seventeen or eighteen. About 5'7, she had long brown hair that was pushed over one shouler, exposing her long neck and dark tan skin. He couldn't really see her eyes but could see that she had eyelashes galore, the perfect amount of makeup to make them pop. She had a pair of black jeans on with a white frilly tank top.

'Oh God. Boots. This girl wore boots.' he thought to himself.

He fixed his composure just as she looked at him, a polite smile on her lips. "Hi there. You're not from around here are you?" she asked, her soft voice music to my ears as she sat down next to him.

He quickly swallowed before answering. "That obvious huh?" he asked, trying to keep his facade on.

Brown eyes. Dark brown eyes with little gold specks in them.

Brown eyes laughed. "Well we don't get alot of tourists to our tiny town.. so you're either lost or confused." she said, studying him.

Dean chuckled. "Well... frankly, i'm lost. My car broke down about three miles off the border line. I just so happened to find this place." he informed her.

She gasped at his words. "You walked all the way here? Thats crazy. You must be exhausted..." she said, concern written all over her face.

Dean shrugged, taking a swig of his beer. "A little. But I'll manage." he said, lifting his glass to salute to that.

Brown eyes seemed to be thinking for a moment, her mind elsewhere before she was distracted by Matt bringing back full drinks. "Thanks Matty." she said, giving him a friendly smile. That told Dean that they obviously knew eachother more than just aquaintances.

She then turned to him. "Would you like to join me? My friends and I are just having a few drinks..." she offered, her eyes hopeful. Dean wondered how she could be so welcoming to a stranger, let alone someone that no one in this town knew.

"Don't you think it would be polite to atleast ask my name first? I mean, this is a large step. Asking me to join you for some drinks and socializing." he teased, smirking over at her.

Brown eyes giggled, the sound music to my ears. "Well of course. How rude of me. What is your name Stranger?"

"Dean Winchester." he said, taking her hand and kissing the top of it, not losing eye contact with her. He knew how to whoo the ladies. It came naturally to him and by the sight of color rushing into Brown Eye's cheeks, he knew he had her. "And what might your name be pretty lady?"

Brown eyes smiled at him, biting her lip before her reply.

"Elena Gilbert."