So I wrote the first three chapters of this story last summer before season 8 started. I might be able to mush it into canon, somehow, but at the moment it is AU. Outsider hunter perspective on the brothers.

I met Sam in a small town in the middle of Omaha.

He approached me and started talking ghosts right off. He seemed to have the sixth sense that most hunters have that allow us to recognize each other, or maybe it was just the fact that we'd both been haunting the microfiche section of the library looking through decades of homicides in the local newspaper for the past three days. I hadn't noticed him. Sloppy, I know, and hard to believe if you've ever seen the guy.

Inconspicuous he is not. Sam's tall and all around big—the kind of guy than can make most girls, even hunters like me, feel small and delicate.

Not that I'm into feeling small and delicate.

Not that I'm into Sam.

But he is interesting. Mysterious. And there was something plaintive about him that first day, like he was sick to death of working alone. When he suggested we go out together to the old Walker place to look for the ghost, I agreed.

It's good to have someone to watch your back. I hadn't had a partner since my uncle died. Most hunters are more trouble than they're worth, especially for a woman who is reasonably attractive, which I've been told I am. They're used to loving them and leaving them, and having a female partner is a bit like having a wife for most of them. Not what they're looking for. As for female hunters, well, I hadn't met a female hunter in a long time. I don't much get along with women, anyway.

Hunters don't necessarily tread the straight and narrow path, either, and it's hard to know what kind of hunter you're going to meet. Some hunters take a lot of liberties with the law—'cause they figure they deserve to, seeing as how they're fighting evil and all. I'm not above a hustle now and again myself, but some hunters think they can take whatever they want from the regular people…and that isn't right, no matter how tempting it might be.

And despite his size, Sam didn't seem like any kind of threat. He had an almost childlike sweetness…sensitivity…maybe it was lack of confidence—that changed of course, but I'll get to all that. Point is he seemed like he would be a genuine threat to the things that go bump in the night and leave me the hell alone, so I went along.

Funny, he didn't work like a guy who'd always had a partner. He fought like he was used to having someone watch his back, but he seemed to want to do all the research and leg work himself. Maybe he just didn't trust me to do the job right, after all, he and his whole family are pretty legendary, not that I knew who he was back then. Maybe he'd butted heads just as much with Dean as he did with me. At the time I attributed his tendency to be a control freak to his being a lone wolf, and I thought he'd get over it after a few weeks. He didn't, really, but I stood up for myself and he started to depend on me.

After that first hunt we started to travel together. I sold my car for scrap and Sam told me about the Leviathan.

It was all a bit hard to swallow, but it did explain a lot.

He didn't tell me then how the Leviathan came to escape from Purgatory, or that they'd been so organized. He certainly never said anything about using the word of god to make a weapon to kill their king. I kid you not. That god. The one from Sunday school.

Anyway, all he told me at the time was that the chompers existed and how we could kill them.

We met Jason in Pennsylvania, and he helped us out with a Siren situation. Sam told him about Rufus's cabin—well, he had to, because Jason had a broken leg and he needed a place to get better. Turned out the leg didn't heal right and Jason ended up with a bad limp—his hunting days were over. Sam felt responsible I guess, or sorry for him. Anyway, things worked a lot better with Jason manning the phones. Sam had this whole system figured out where every phone had a separate identity, and we could call the number for the person we wanted to run the con. Jason played the part of the FBI, CDC or whatever without having to be told who the other person on the line expected to talk to.

It was genius.

Brad and Cody showed up next, on the run from the law, then the General and then Mikey. There were other hunters who came and went, but we were the core. Every one of us was happy to have a place to sometimes call home, and for a little while it was almost like we were family.

Things started to get weird when this guy called Crowley showed up. Sam said he was a demon.

It's not like hunters don't know that demons exist, it's just that demons, even the run of the mill ones, are so far above pay grade for most hunters that we don't spend a lot of time in their company—demons are things that hunters run from. I'd never met a hunter who seemed to have a long standing association—maybe even friendship, judging from the things Crowley said—with a demon.

Sam stood his ground but he seemed scared…respectful. In fact, Crowley even complimented him on how respectful he was being.

"I like you, Sam. You know your place. However, our encounters just don't have the same punch they did when Dean was around. Nothing like trading insults to keep conversation lively," he said.

"What do you want, Crowley?" Sam asked.

"What do you think I want?" Crowley asked.

Sam sighed with impatience. "I don't want to play games, Crowley. You took Kevin, Dean and Cas are gone…I can't imagine what you want. I don't have anything that hasn't already been taken from me."

"I don't know Sam. Some might say you have a lot more now than you did before. It seems like you've got a brand new clubhouse and, what, followers? Is this some kind of a cult? Don't drink the Koolaid, kids," he said.

"What. Do. You. Want?" Sam asked slowly.

Crowley scowled. "You're no fun at all. I never noticed how much more fun Dean was than you, and not just because he's a damn sight prettier than you are, Moose. He makes a demon feel truly hated. You just make me bored."

Sam raised his hands in exasperation. "Well, don't let me keep you."

"Fine," Crowley said like he making a huge concession. "I want more of the tablets."

"I don't know how the Leviathan found the first one. And if I did find them, I'd never give them to you," Sam said.

"I'll kill the prophet," Crowley said.

"If you kill the prophet, you won't be able to read the tablets," Sam said.

"I kill a prophet, God makes a new one."

"If you kill a prophet Archangels will obliterate you even if you are in hell," Sam said.

"If there were any Archangels around to protect poor little Kevin Tran I wouldn't have him in the first place," Crowley said.

"You won't kill Kevin. Why kill a prophet when there's no guarantee the next time you get near one you won't get smote to kingdom come?"

"I'll kill Meg," Crowley said.

"Be my guest," Sam said, shrugging.

Crowley looked like he was starting to enjoy the negotiations. He smiled slightly. "I'll fetch your precious brother Dean for you, then."

Sam paused, showed his hand, really, although I guess Crowley knew all along that Dean was that important to Sam. None of us had ever even heard of the guy. "Where is he?" Sam asked.

"He got sucked into Purgatory when he killed Dick Roman. He's probably dead by now. But if he's alive—he's in Purgatory, and I can get him out."

"I don't believe you can. If you could open the door to Purgatory you would have already done it, and not to save my brother."

"Who said anything about opening a door? There are other ways," Crowley said.

"What ways? What about Cas?" Sam asked.

"Not on your life, Moose. I'll only deal for Dean. The angel's on his own," Crowley said.

Sam paused again, looking tempted. "I've done some shitty things in my life, Crowley, but I'm not going to find the word of god so I can hand it off to the king of hell. Not even for Dean."

"Come on Sam, what's the man in the sky done for you lately? He let Cas go power crazy and declare himself god. Bobby took a bullet. Dean saved humanity yet again and all it got him was a one way ticket to Monsterland. God's simply not on your side, anymore," Crowley said.

"Crowley, it's not about choosing sides. It's about what you'll do when you get even more power," Sam said.

Crowley scowled. "Dean would have made that deal."

Sam raised his chin stubbornly. "I don't think so."

"No matter. I'll find them myself," Crowley said, disappearing abruptly.

"What in hell was that all about?" I asked.

Sam ignored the question. He was thinking hard about something, and I gave him a moment. Mikey, the only other person who'd been witness to the exchange, was not so patient.

"Was that the goddamned devil? Was the goddamned devil just in our house?" he said, his voice edging into panic in a way I hadn't even imagined possible for the muscle-head.

"He's not the devil, he's the king of hell," Sam said absently, obviously still thinking about Crowley.

"What's going on, boss?" I asked.

"We have to find those tablets. If Crowley wants them, there's got to be something he can use on them. Something bad. We need to keep him from getting his hands on them," Sam said.

And that's when I started my illustrious career as an amateur archeologist, looking for tablets containing the word of God.

I guess if my mother hadn't been murdered by a vampire when I was two, she'd have been proud.