Hello readers. This is a bored person writing a shitty story. All the info about loc8ions is true, the hotel they're in is real, and I actually did some digging around. I also used to live in Kaysville, so this is pretty damn accurate.

Sorry I'm a perfectionist. and yes, the park they are going to floods after any heavy rainfall and is great for screwing around in

The Wendigo. An ugly little bastard who has a thing for human flesh. Sam and Dean thought this would be a nice break from all the demons and angels running around, so they took the case. They knew where it was, they knew how to kill it, and they knew how to not get slaughtered by the ugly son of a bitch.

Sam and Dean had just found one in a small Utah town, not far from where they were in Colorado at the moment. After a few nights' research and a several hour long drive, they arrived at the town where it was.

They went through their usual routine, asking questions while posing as FBI agents until they gathered more info, bit by bit. They soon found out where the bastard was.

Armed with guns to hold it off, a silver dagger, and a flare gun, the Winchester brothers kicked down the door to the run-down house and propped their shotguns on their arms as they surveyed the place. Sam gave his older brother the all-clear, and they began making their way to the basement where the rotting door flung open easily when nudged.

Quirking an eyebrow, Dean took the lead and trudged down the stairs. Both boys nearly gagged when the vile stench of rotting flesh hit their noses like a train driven by an angry sociopath with a need for speed.

Sam ran his finger over a dusty picture frame, regrettably picking up the dirt that had been collecting on the golden frame for many years. Pressing his lips together, he turned around only to see the angry-looking pasty-faced Wendigo creeping up behind his brother. Eyes widening, Sam let out a cry and ran forward, tackling the beast just before it leapt onto his older brother.

Dean drew in a sharp breath and whipped around to see the beast dig its long claws into Sam's shoulder and rip him off of itself. Sam grunted as he was thrown off, not having any time to react before the Wendigo clambered on top of the younger hunter and raked its claws across his face before Dean fired a shotgun shell full of salt into its face.

Growling when he realized that he had packed the wrong bullets, Dean tossed the near-useless gun to the side and drew the silver blade he had hidden inside his coat. The monster simply made an odd clicking noise before wiping the blood off its face and tearing into Sammy's throat and chest. Dean let out an outraged cry and leapt forward with the long blade in hand.

The oldest Winchester brother dug the silver blade into the Wendigo's chest and threw it to the side as he knelt to cradle his moose of a brother in his arms. Sam's eyes were closed and blood had turned his new white shirt a sickening shade of red.

Dean placed two fingers on his brother's neck to check for a pulse, a wave of worry and fear rushing through him when he found none. His jaw trembled as he failed to find the faint rise and fall of Sam's chest.

Growling, Dean fired up the flare gun and lit the Wendigo on fire, rage obvious in his green eyes. Minutes after the corpse had been burned to a crisp, realization hit him and he let out a strangled groan, grief clouding his vision as he stood and began dragging Sam out of the old shithole.

He can't be dead. It was only a Wendigo. He can't be dead, were the constant thoughts of the eldest living Winchester as he dragged his baby brother's dead body out of a shack that had only contained a Wendigo.

Denial. That is what Dean felt for the next few months. After three days, Castiel had convinced him to bury his brother. It hurt like a son of a bitch, that was one thing that he was certain of. That, and the fact that Cas sucked at comforting people.

"It wasn't your fault, Dean," the trench-coat clad angel spoke softly, jolting Dean out of his memories. The taller of the two sighed.

"I know, Cas-but would you please stop doing that weird-ass mind reading thing that you do? It still creeps me out." Dean murmured, tilting his head back and downing the glass of whiskey he had poured himself. He poured more of the golden-colored liquid into the cup before handing it to Castiel, who accepted it gratefully and swallowing the bitter drink without hesitation.

Shuddering slightly before placing the cup back on the desk the hunter was sitting at, he cleared his throat and began speaking; "I have a new case, most likely a Skinwalker. It's been killing pets and posing as them until they're vulnerable. It has been leaving a trail, so it's fairly new to this line in work. Should be easy enough to track down and gank. Are you in?" Dean nodded before asking where it was.

"It's in Kaysville, Utah. Its next destination should be somewhere near the big park near Laurelwood Drive. It's been targeting families who bring their pets to parks like that." Dean stiffened. Utah. The very name stirred the buried rage and grief that he had buried shortly after Sam's death.

He shook his head and relaxed. So what if it was the same place? Sam was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it. And according to Cas, he had made it to Heaven this time. So Sammy was just fine as he was, no fireballs and constant torture were in it for his moose of a little brother. Unless Cas was lying to make him feel better. But Cas sucked at lying, so he doubted that.

"I'll do it. Let's hit the road!" Cas nodded and grabbed his few possessions, heading towards the door. "Cas. One thing." The angel turned around. "Thanks." A faint smile touched Castiel's lips before he nodded and did that weird ass teleportation thing-hopefully to the car.

Several hours later, they pulled into the driveway for a four star hotel in Layton. It was a bit more expensive than usual, but it was worth it. The only real downsides were that it was a few miles away from the Hill Air Force Base, and that it was flooded with tired tourists just coming in from a day at the huge-ass amusement park not far off.

It was a ten-minute drive from the hotel to the park that the skinwalker was likely targeting, so that was good. And the food and wifi were free, too, thank god.

Cas had taken over the research after Sam had died, and he was currently stepping out of the Impala with laptop bag in hand.

Mere minutes later, they were trudging up the stairs to their room on the second floor. They had, of course, been mistaken as a couple, but Dean had quickly put a stop to it. Cas took the keys from the taller hunter and unlocked the room, shoving the door open and laying the laptop case on the little coffee table and his few other things on the floor next to one of the beds.

Dean found himself staring and quickly adverted his gaze, dropping his bag on the floor next to his bed and plopping down on the white-blanketed queen bed to the right of the room, groaning when he realized how tired he was. Cas lifted an eyebrow before plugging in the laptop's power supply and opening it to do some research. The taller of the two sighed. This hotel really deserved its four stars.

Castiel shook his head before turning to the computer in front of him. There was actually a lot of lore about skinwalkers in Utah, mainly in the Skinwalker Ranch to the southeast of where they were now. The angel found himself on a shitty .org website about the ranch and clicked on the "research" button.

Wow. There were a lot of books on these ugly little things. Pressing his lips together, Cas opened each book's page on a new tab and began digging for any real information.

Dean woke about an hour later. Sitting up, he was slightly confused about where he was, but that only ever lasted a few seconds before he remembered he was on a case. He rolled his eyes when he noticed that Cas was gone, neglecting to notice the note the angel had left stuck to the laptop.

"Mornin', sunshine" Dean murmured as he sat up yet again. Cas ignored him and dumped the armful of books he had most likely stolen from the library on the bed. "Cas, why did ya grab all those? We already know about these things, remember?" The angel hummed, but otherwise ignored him and plopped down on the bed, choosing a book at random and beginning to read it.

Cas tossed the last book aside just as the dawn light was beginning to shine through the curtains. He sighed, slightly disappointed but not surprised that almost all the books were absolute bullshit on the lore. Yeah, some of the stories were good, but the lore was crap in the plot-heavy ones. The only accurate thing in all the books was the shapeshifting.

One of the local Native American tribes, the Navajo, were high believers in the Skinwalker. They used to call it the yee naaldlooshii, literally translating to "with it, he goes on all fours". A popular belief was that the skinwalker had to wear the pelt of the animal, but that died out as it was an obvious tell of their species.

Their lore was actually pretty accurate. Before evolving, the skinwalkers did have to wear at least a fragment of the animal's pelt that they wished to turn into. Some still did that, if not for stronger abilities than for fashion. Some of the foxes and wolves that roamed had a thing for fur scarves and coats.

Dean yawned and checked his watch again. 7:35. At least he got some sleep while Cas was throwing those stupid books around. The angel glanced at Dean before gathering the books in his arms and flying off, probably to return them. The hunter rolled his eyes and stood, stretching, when Cas came flapping back into the hotel room.

"Damn, boy. You ready to hunt some monsters?" Cas nodded and they were off to the car. The angel did his stupid teleporting thing, where Dean just gathered his bag and the laptop and met Cas in the car.

Five miles and ten minutes of arguing about Mormons later, they arrived at the park which was full of white-bread families who had brought their kids and their pets along with them to the soccer-field-park-thing that looked like it would be fun to live around after a rainstorm.

But there were no benches. What kind of park didn't have benches? But that didn't seem to matter to all the families who were around, playing fetch with their dogs and the parents watching their kids making sure they didn't get kidnapped.

Dean scoffed at the scene laid out in front of him. These guys were about to have their lives saved by him, and if they were lucky they would have no idea about it. Those innocent assholes.

The two hunters surveyed the area, watching for any dogs (or the occasional cat) straying out of anyone's sight.

Both men decided on staying in the car, with Cas popping out every once in a while to get a bird's eye view. After almost an entire day of spying on Utahn families, they finally spotted something. Cas narrowed his eyes at a single German Shepard who had wandered into the brush and pointed at it.

"Jackpot," was all Dean uttered as he cocked his gun and stepped out of the car. The angel proceeded to abandon him with his teleport-y powers and fly directly to the dog, invisible to everyone but Dean.

The hunter jogged towards the dog, gun tucked under his belt. Cas tailed it, glancing around as the dog ducked into someone's backyard through a hole in their fence. The trench-coat clad angel turned to Dean and gave him a stopping motion and pointed back to the car. Dean tilted his head, but turned tail and headed for the car anyway. Cas could handle himself, he was sure.

Castiel continued to follow the dog, across the street and into some other family's garage, where it proceeded to shift and enter the home, presumably as the father of the family. The angel slipped through the door, still invisible, and watched as the skinwalker greeted the family's mother. He heard her ask where the dog was, but the shifter simply shrugged and gave her a quick kiss before heading upstairs.

Cas continued following, raising an eyebrow when he saw the glint of a knife in the shifter's hand. The man turned to a door in the right side of the hallway, knocking twice before opening it revealed a small girl, no more than six. She grinned when she saw what she assumed to be her father and ran up to hug him.

Just in time, Cas saw the man raise the knife and try to bring it down on the girl. The angel regained visibility and dashed over, grabbing the skinwalker's arm and twisting the knife out of his hand, sliding it away before the shifter could get to it again.

The girl let out a terrified scream as she wrenched herself away from the shifter she had assumed to be her father and ran to the corner, eyes wide as she watched this strange man in a trench coat wrestle the taller man.

Castiel grunted as the skinwalker shoved him away, fear flickering in its green eyes as the angel pulled out the silver dagger he had sheathed on a belt loop (it looked stupid, but it worked well enough). Cas lunged at the shifter, plunging the blade into its chest before it could react.

It fell, dead, and Cas turned to the girl. Tears streamed down her pale freckled cheeks, and the angel approached her only to place two fingers on her forehead and erase the memories of what had happened. He took the body and with a thought, was back in the Impala.

Dean jumped when Cas appeared in the back seat of his car, a dead body resting in the seat next to him as if it was asleep. "We need to burn it," was all he said as he watched Dean's eye twitch.

"Yeah, and while we're at it we should go to Unicorn Land where the horses have toilet-paper rolls taped to their heads and shit rainbows. Let's go." the hunter murmured, starting up the engine and driving to the nearest isolated place they could find.

Dean had paid for three nights at the hotel, but the case had washed over faster than he had expected so he figured they should stay for the two days they had left. Cas had no problem whatsoever with it, and actually stayed in the car with him the whole drive to the hotel.

"So whaddya wanna do, angel boy? There are Mormons and Christians literally everywhere you look and two huge ass amusement parks within fifty miles of one another. One of them puts up new rides every year, I think its called Legoloon or something like that." Dean said as he slammed the hotel room's door shut. Cas shrugged, tossing their things on his bed.

"Dean, we came here for a job. I had no intention of doing anything else except that. But if you want to do something, I could just 'tag along', as you would put it." Dean scoffed. Man, angels were boring.

"Mkay. Legloon it is."

"It's called the Lagoon."

"Whatever."

It was an annoyingly long drive. Dean took the long way, just to screw with the GPS and ended up pulling over after almost running over a cat and scaring the shit out of Cas when he swerved. Scoffing at the angel's little freak-out, the hunter got back on the road only to be caught in a traffic jam five minutes later.

And then it started snowing. A lot. In October. Dean groaned and pulled over again to check if the park was still open, which it wasn't. Great.

Almost half an hour later, Dean pulled back into the parking lot of their hotel and walked back to the room, irritated that the snow had cancelled their short-term plans. It was coming down heavy now, the afternoon sun completely blocked out by the angry grey clouds.

Cas hadn't said a word the entire time, not counting the squeal that had escaped his lips at the cat part, and was currently staring at Dean, waiting for him to say something. The hunter glanced his way, raising an eyebrow. "Cas, stop starin' at me. Whaddya want?"

The angel shrugged. He was waiting for Dean to make a suggestion. "Dude, seriously. Do you wanna get some food or someth-nevermind, you don't eat. We have free wifi and a TV. Wanna dick around with the computer or play a shitty movie?" Castiel shrugged again.

"Cas, what's with you? You haven't said anything since we left. What's up?" Another shrug from the stubborn angel. Dean groaned and rested his face in his hands. "Castiel. Stop this stupid silent treatment and say something! Was I something I did?"

Cas sighed. "No, it's nothing you did. I just haven't really been… talkative, lately. I apologize." Dean let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and relaxed his tensed shoulders.

"So, you are alive. Not just some weird-ass feathered zombie." A head shake from Cas. "Dude, what do I have to do to get you to talk?" Shrug. "God dammit Cas. It's three o'clock, so I can't really go to sleep for a while without screwing up my sleep schedule even more than it already is, so what do you wanna do?"

Castiel sighed. There was no way in hell they were actually going to do what he wanted to, because Dean would almost certainly not be 'down for it', as he believed the term to be. Dean repeated his question. "Dean, I will do whatever you want. I don't really know what I want to do. It's up to you."

Dean sighed and shook his head. "Fine. I say we watch shitty romcoms until we fall asleep. Well, until I fall asleep."

"I am capable of sleeping. I just choose not to." Dean cracked his neck. "That's nice. Now; what sounds better; Titanic or Reinventing the Wheelers?" Castiel almost cringed at the second title, causing Dean to laugh and put on Titanic.

Three hours later, Dean was choking on his laughter from the bad acting and Castiel simply sat there, not really giving a shit at all.

"Ah man. This movie is shit. And I could go for some shity fast foo-Cas god dammit" Cas had flown off in search for the nearest McDonald's and bought Dean a couple burgers before returning minutes later. Quirking an eyebrow, Dean thanked him and grabbed the bag.

Twenty minutes later, yet another movie had been put on the TV. Instead of watching the movie, Castiel often found his gaze drawn to the hunter on the opposite side of the room. He always averted it just before Dean looked over, but it always wandered back to the infuriatingly attractive Winchester. He hated to admit it, but he was crushing on the bastard.