I don't own Supernatural. This is just my interpretation of how it would be in the old west, enjoy!

Noah Carpenter was a young man of around 23. He was taller than most men and definitively slimmer as well. Noah had procured a rather large mop of sandy blonde hair on his head, as well as some peach fuzz on his face to match. His hazel eyes were often glazed over as if he had not gotten enough rest. But if there was one thing in the world Noah Carpenter loved more than warm bed to sleep in, it would have been the sleep he gained in that bed. In fact, Noah was notorious for being lazy and sleeping when it was uncalled for.

Noah Carpenter was currently sleeping in the cool shade of a giant tree which was split in two at the center by a bolt of lightning, safe away from the hot afternoon sun on a hill overlooking the farm at which he was currently staying.

"Hey boy," came the voice of the old man, "you told me that you was gonna work for all them hot meals, and the bed we gave you. You weren't lyin' to me, now were ya boy?"

Noah listened to the grumblings of the older gentleman who was kicking the sole of his boot every time he said the word "you". Lifting the brim of his hat from overtop of his eyes, Noah squinted at the shadowy figure of the man in front of him.

"Shoot, no," yawned Noah, "I a'int never lied to you old man, I was just catching a quick nap is all."

"Yeah, yeah, a quick nap…" grouched the old man, "boy, you are lazier than a dog on a hot day- you understand!"

"Calm down old timer," shrugged Noah, "I'll get to work, no worry. So, what is it you need me to do exactly?"

The young man stiffly rose to his feet, taking his time to stretch every limb he could, and yawning rather loudly in the direction of the old man a few more times.

"What you can do is take the herd out to pasture, seein' as you missed out on all of the other chores due to your 'nap'," snapped the old man.

"Alright, alright," yawned Noah once more, "Consider it done, old man."

Noah sauntered down the hill still feeling groggy from his nap. It had been a wonderful nap. On the list of naps he had ever taken, it was definitely high on the scale of ones he had never wanted to wake from. Yet here he was, woken from his nap, and being forced to do a job he never wanted. He climbed into his saddle and stroked the cream splotched horse's neck a few times, allowing himself another yawn.

He moved his horse towards the herd, being that there were only seven or eight cows in this particular herd, he assumed he could handle them by himself by simply guiding them from the back. Noah called out for them to get a move on and the cows started to cling together like frightened children as they were moved out towards the open pastures. Clouds thundered in the distance. Noah raised the brim of his hat and squinted at the sun. It definitely looked like rain was coming, and fast too.

Noah started moving the herd faster and over the rustle of the stamping hooves he thought he could hear someone shouting in the distance, but he was too lazy to take the effort to turn around and see who it could be.

The rain had come in faster than expected, but that wasn't woke Noah from his nap, it was the thunder which brought him out of his coma-like trance. He had brought the herd out to pasture and found himself a nice boulder on which to lean his back and return to sweet sleep, as he had tipped the brim of his hat down over his eyes. Now Noah was frantic, seeing that the rain was coming down in torrents and the cows were scattered.

The cream splotched horse which Noah rode was neighing and kicking frantically as though it were being attacked and Noah, for a moment, considered bringing the herd in on foot, in case he broke his neck on the bucking horse. However, as he walked over the horse began to calm down, and climbing into his saddle he realized he could barely see where the cows were to begin with through the dark and the rain which drenched Noah to the bone with its cold.

Noah steered his horse in the direction of where the cows were when he last saw them, although that could have been hours ago, Noah wasn't really sure how long he had slept. However, as Noah neared the area he thought he could smell something foul through the humid rain. It was then that he came upon the mutilated corpses of two cows: they had been disemboweled, split from the neck to their utters. Noah held his bandana over his mouth to block to the now obvious stench and looked around. He didn't see any poachers in the area, but through the rain it was hard to see at all. And since when did poachers kill cows? They usually just stole and sold them.

Something in Noah's gut told him something was definitely wrong. The usual sleepy Noah was now on high alert as he drew his double barrel revolver and cocked the hammer back, looking in all directions trying to find the culprit. Noah knew now, he was being watched. Then, alarmingly close to Noah's left side, he heard footsteps in the grass. He wheeled his horse around and held the revolver in the direction of the footsteps.

"Who's there!" Noah demanded of the darkness. There was no reply.

"Answer me dammit, are you the one who's responsible for this!" Noah again demanded. Yet again, there was no answer. It was then that Noah realized the footsteps had abruptly stopped when he had spoken.

"Who me?" came a disjointed voice.

Noah spun to his right to see a pair of glowing yellow eyes piercing straight into his own.

" 'Cause if you're talking to me, then the answer to your question is yes, I did this." The man smiled with teeth so white they looked like pearls in the dark and rain.

Noah brought up the revolver and fired off three bullets straight at the man with the yellow eyes. Hearing the resounding splats of bullet meeting flesh, Noah felt reassured that he was now safe from this man with crazy eyes.

"Sonny," sighed the man, rain dripping from his short white hair, "you shouldn't play with guns."

With that, Noah's revolver was ripped from his hands, as if by unseen forces and flew in the outstretched palm of the man. Noah's horse had again started bucking in fear, and Noah himself was having trouble controlling the bile which had risen in his throat. When the horse reared up again the man flicked his hand in an upward motion and Noah heard the tearing of flesh and could smell the horse's intestines as they spilled onto the ground and Noah was flung from his horse.

There was a crack as Noah's leg broke from the fall and he cried out in pain. Noah knew that his only chance to survive was to crawl for his life, so he started in the direction of the house. Although, in the back of his mind, he knew it was to no avail. The footsteps of the man were right alongside him as he crawled.

"What's the rush?" asked the yellow eyed man, "why don't you rest a little while."

With that, the man kicked Noah's shoulder so that Noah rolled over onto his back, and dug his spur into Noah's ribs. Pain exploded, and the sleepy young man cried out in agony and protest. The spur removed itself from Noah's side and he felt the rain lighten up as he noticed the man standing over him was slightly shielding him from the downpour. Noah couldn't help but take notice that the man was not armed. Not even with a knife. How had he killed his horse then?

"Who are you?" Noah coughed in pain.

"Me? I'm nobody special," smiled the man, "but you, partner, are someone quite special. You are, a prototype."

Before Noah could question the man further he heard a hissing noise from the wound in his ribs, and soon he felt a burning hotter than fire in his side as he screamed out in pain, louder than he had ever screamed. And then the world went black.

Noah stared out over the open plains from underneath the shade of the tree split down the center by the lightning bolt. The brim of his hat was up, yet his eyes were still glazed over. It had been a week since Noah last slept, and if he had known that the last time he had lost consciousness was the last time he would sleep for the rest of his life, he would have savored it more.

The man with the yellow eyes had cursed him to never sleep again.

He had even branded him.

Noah unbuttoned his dress shirt to look at the mark once more, and there it was, branded into his skin on the right side near his ribs:

SLOTH

Noah looked back to the horizon. He would find that demon man, and he would kill him.

And then he would sleep.