The roar of the Chevy Impalas engine vied with loud, heavy guitar riffs as Sam and Dean Winchester drove down the highway heading toward Sioux Falls, South Dakota. It had been a long week. They had spent most of it ridding a small town in New Mexico of a ghoul that had been raising havoc in a ghost town which was also the local tourist trap. The boys were tired and a little scraped up, and they were in need of a few days off.

Refuge came in the form of a call from their old friend and mentor Bobby Singer. Also a hunter, and also just finishing a job, Singer had called to tell them of his exploits and to brag about a new book he had found on demon lore during his hunt. One thing lead to another and it was agreed that they would all hunker down at Singer's home for some much deserved R and R; rest and research.

Dean also planned to use the time to work on his baby, the Impala. She'd developed a slight list to the left when he'd struck a gravestone trying to distract the ghoul which had been about to take a chunk out of his younger brother, Sam. Though it had pained Dean deeply to sacrifice his car the tactic had worked. Sam managed to gank the ghoul and the boys rode off into the sunset, no one in town the wiser for their hard work and minor injuries.

As he listened to Boston's More Than a Feeling Dean reflected on how the life of a hunter paid crap and how the rewards were few and far between. He and Sam existed on fraudulent credit cards, handouts and the few dollars they managed to find on the bodies of some of the creatures they disposed of. It was a rough life, but Dean wouldn't have it any other way. It was the family business and family meant everything to him.

Dean listened to the signature line in the song and suddenly realized that he was feeling a little sore. He was exhausted, his ribs ached and the cut along his side, courtesy of the ghoul, burned. He rubbed his tired eyes. Even though he loved his car, and even though he loved being at the wheel, he needed a break from driving.

He looked over at Sam who was flipping through some research and was listening to something on his earbuds while he scribbled notes in a notebook. Sam professed to hate the life of a hunter but he had started to embrace it naturally and Dean was proud of the fact that Sam had started his own Hunter's journal like their father before them.

Sam had slept through most of the night so Dean figured he'd be up to drive for a spell. He slapped his brother's arm to get his attention. "Hey, Sammy."

Sam removed the earbuds. "Yeah?"

"How about taking a turn at the wheel so I can get some shut eye?" Dean asked.

Sam evaluated his brother, taking in the cut and bruise over Dean's right eye. He had put a few stitches in to hold Dean together but a little blood was still leaking through. He shook his head and said, "You look like crap."

Dean raised an eyebrow, winced from the pain and said, "You don't look much better."

Sam had a shiner, a brilliantly black and blue eye. The bruise crept up under his hair; hair that Dean really wished Sam would cut. Dean knew that his brother also had deep scratches along his left leg and that he had developed a slight limp. He might even have a concussion which meant he probably shouldn't be driving.

Worrying a little and feeling bad about asking Sam to drive even though he felt his own exhaustion creeping in, Dean said, "Don't sweat it. I can keep going."

Sam smiled at his brother's concern. Dean always sacrificed for family and that always made Sam feel a little special, not to mention a bit guilty. He shuffled his papers together, jammed them into the notebook and said, "I'm fine, Dean." At his brother's look he added, "Seriously. And you need to get some rest. Have you even slept since we left New Mexico?"

Dean shrugged. "You know I don't need much sleep."

"I also know you've been swerving a little the last couple of miles. Pull over and I'll drive. You can crawl in the back and get some rest."

With more relief than he cared to admit Dean pulled over and the brothers switched places. As Dean settled into the passenger seat Sam asked, "Sure you don't want to get in the back?"

Dean slid down in the seat, wrapped his arms around his chest and leaned against the door frame. "Nah. I'll be more comfortable up here. You can change the music if you want." A sudden thought occurred to him and he asked, "What were you listening to with your earbuds anyway?"

"A podcast."

"A pod what?"

Sam pulled onto the road opening up the Impala's engine. "A Podcast. Kind of like a lecture. You should try one sometime. You could learn a lot."

Dean laughed. "Right. Sounds like just my thing. School, but without the visuals. No thanks."

"No, really." Sam pointed to his notebook excitement lighting up his voice. "Some of them are pretty cool. This one's all about vampires, and they have most of it right! It's like a podcast for hunters."

"Awesome," Dean said with very little enthusiasm. He settled back into a comfortable position and closed his eyes. "More research." He yawned and whispered, "Awesome," and drifted off to sleep.

Bobby Singer was waiting in the yard of Singer Salvage when the boys pulled in. His home was situated in the midst the vast junkyard. Old cars, heaps of scrap metal and car parts surrounded the property. It didn't look like much but cars were a passion of Bobby's and the mess made a fairly helpful defensive perimeter in case of an attack by things that might be holding a grudge for Bobby's other passion, hunting.

Bobby stood with his hands jammed in the pockets of his jeans. He wore a flannel shirt with a vest over it and his ancient baseball cap was jammed on his head. As the Impala pulled to a stop Bobby saw that the front end was leaning low on the left. He glanced at the damage to the fender and then his eyes met Dean's. Bobby shook his head, a grimace on his face.

As Sam and Dean got out of the car Bobby growled, "What'd you idjits do to the car this time?"

"Hit a gravestone," Dean said as if it were something he did every day.

"He was saving me from a ghoul attack," Sam added. He at least had the good grace to sound a little bad about the damage.

Bobby ran a hand along the metal, mentally calculating the repairs that would be needed. "Gravestones ain't made of cotton you know. You'd better get that fixed before your daddy sees it."

"I know," Dean replied. The inflection in his voice showed just how well he knew it. Bobby and their dad, John, were big on details. Pay attention to the details and the big stuff was easier to deal with. They'd drilled that into Sam and Dean from a very young age.

With a pang of regret Bobby wished he could take the comment back. The boys weren't boys anymore. They were grown men who had seen and done more things in their lives than most people would ever experience. And thank God for that. He knew Dean would take care of the car just like he always did. The Impala was more than just a tool to him, it was a legacy. He and Sam had grown up in it and it had once belonged to their dad who had passed it on to Dean.

Bobby finally took a step over and shook hands with each of the boys, his voice softening a bit. "Good to see you both. Ghoul give you much trouble?"

Dean shook his head no. "Sam handled it."

Bobby nodded and took in the boys faces. "You two need to be patched up?"

"We stopped on the road and took care of it," Sam said. "My leg got scratched up pretty good but Dean cleaned it out and gave me some stitches. Then I stitched him up."

Bobby looked at Sam's shiner and then turned to Dean. "You okay?"

"Fit as a fiddle," Dean said. He stood with his hands in his jacket pockets, nearly matching Bobby's stance.

Bobby nodded, noted the blood leaking over Dean's eye and said, "Yeah, well let me know if any of your strings need to be tuned, Maestro." He started back to the house. "Beer is in the fridge. I'll throw some steaks on the grill. By the way, you're still bleeding, Dean. Sam, you better work on your stitches before Dean needs you to patch up something worse."

"Yes, sir," Sam said.

The boys exchanged a quick grin. This was Bobby's way of showing his love and concern for them. He was a gruff old bastard but he'd been a surrogate father to them for as long as they could remember. Hell, they saw him more than they saw their real father and Bobby had taught them a lot about the business.

"You two get cleaned up before you sit on my furniture. You know where the washing machine is. Use plenty of Oxy Clean. It really does get the blood out of your clothes."

"I'll get the laundry going," Sam said. He limped over to the Impala, opened the trunk and grabbed their bags.

Dean followed Bobby into the house. "How'd your gig go?" Dean asked.

Bobby pulled out a couple of beers from the fridge, popped the tops off and handed one to Dean. "Easy salt and burn. Never even had any trouble from the ghost. I think he was ready to go, poor bastard. He'd been a hunter himself, you know."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah." There was note of sadness in Bobby's voice. He pulled a package of steaks from the fridge and continued. "Vampires killed his entire family. Made him watch then let him live. The town that asked him to do the job never thanked him. They never even acknowledged his loss." Bobby took a sip of his beer. "Vamps caught up to him a few months later and finished him off. Once they get your scent you can never shake 'em. You either have to kill them or keep looking over your shoulder. Anyway, he got his vengeance in the end, and like I said, I think he was ready to go."

"Damn," Dean whispered. He knocked back half his beer, leaned against the kitchen counter and felt his body relax. Bobby's was always a place where they could let their guard down. It felt like home and it was a relief to be there. "Sam did a great job with the ghoul. I didn't even really have to help."

"Fender tells a different story," Bobby said. "Looks like you had to save his ass."

"Yeah, well, he's saved mine plenty of times."

"He got his head screwed on all right?" Bobby asked. "He have his head in the game?"

"Yeah," Dean said a little defensively.

"How about you?" Bobby asked. He'd watched Dean take off his jacket. Saw the slow movements and the slight wince from pain. Saw the blood leaking a little through Dean's shirt. He knew Dean's nature. They boy never complained about his injuries and he would mask the pain so he wouldn't get sidelined in a fight. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Mom." Dean's voice dripped with sarcasm. He quickly finished off his beer and tossed the empty into a recycling bin before opening the fridge and grabbing another.

"Suit yourself," Bobby said. He headed for the door and slapped Dean's side as he walked by. Dean folded forward letting out a grunt of pain. With his beer in his hand Bobby pointed down the hall. "Grab a shower, Sunshine. Once I get these steaks going we're gonna take those stitches out and I'm gonna teach Sam how to do it right. Pain meds are in the medicine cabinet over the sink. And clean up any blood you leak on my floors!"

The Impala gleamed in the morning sunlight, freshly waxed and polished, all the damage to the fender pounded out. Dean had smoothed and rounded the metal and had made sure that the patched-up paint matched the original job. Details.

He'd spent half the day before tuning up the engine getting her ready for their next job, wherever that might be. Now he took care wiping up any fluids that had dripped or leaked in the engine compartment. He was just closing the hood when Bobby came out to meet him.

"Looks good as new," Bobby said. He walked around the car giving it a nod of approval. "We ever rid this world of evil and you've got a fine future as a mechanic or a body man."

"I already am a body man." Dean waggled his eyebrows and wiped grease off his hands, a ridiculous grin on his face.

"Why do I even bother," Bobby groaned. He started toward the house. "Breakfast is ready."

Dean followed him into the kitchen and stopped at the sink to wash up. The smell of coffee, bacon and eggs drew him to the table and he sat down next to his brother and started helping himself to food.

Sam's food sat on his plate largely unnoticed. He was thumbing through an old, leather-bound book with obvious appreciation. "Bobby, this is amazing! Where'd you find it?"

"Believe it or not it was in a used book store," Bobby told him. He put a platter of toast on the table and sat down across from Sam and Dean. "It was just sitting there in a half-price bin with a bunch of science fiction and romance novels. Owner must have thought it was some new age junk."

"Wow." Sam shook his head as if he couldn't believe Bobby's luck at finding the book. When it came to hunting Sam was as passionate about lore and research as Dean was about fighting and that was one of the things that made them such a good team. He put the book down, picked up his fork and turned to his brother. "We have to start checking out used book stores on our hunts."

Dean paused, swallowed a mouthful of half-chewed eggs and choked out. "I can't wait."

Bobby laughed as Dean guzzled down half a cup of hot coffee. These were the moments that made hunting worth it. The time in between the jobs where they could relax and pretend that what they did was normal.

"You boys heading out soon?" he asked.

Dean peered at him over his coffee mug. "You trying to get rid of us? No way I'm leaving as long as you keep feeding us like this." As if to prove the point he shoved an entire piece of bacon into his mouth and swallowed it down.

"You're welcome to stay as long as you like. Just figured you'd be getting a little bored by now."

Sam held up the leather-bound book. "I could live in your library, Bobby. There's no way I could be bored here. Have you ever thought of cataloging all this stuff? It would make research a heck of a lot easier and I'd be glad to give you a hand doing it."

"Why waste the time?" Bobby asked. "I know how to find everything in there."

"You have any jobs lined up?" Dean asked, a note of hope in his voice.

"Nope. Had a line on some possible werewolf activity down in Colorado, but I have it from a good source that it was just a pack of wild dogs. How about you two?"

"Nothing here, either," Sam said. "Things have been awfully quite."

"Well, that ain't a bad thing," Bobby said as he carried their empty plates to the sink and grabbed the coffee pot. He topped off their mugs and was just sitting down when Dean's phone began to ring.

Dean wiped his hands on his jeans and dug out his phone. He glanced at the screen, surprised to see the word 'Dad' staring back at him. A surge of adrenaline shot through him as he connected the call. "Dad?"

Sam and Bobby could faintly hear the familiar voice respond, "Hey, Son."

"Everything all right?" Dean asked quickly.

"Yeah, Dean, everything's fine," John said in his usual soft drawl. "You with Sammy? You boys doing okay?"

"Yeah, we're great." The tone in John's voice took the edge off and Dean breathed a little easier as he relaxed back in his chair. "We're at Bobby's. We finished a job down in New Mexico and came here to… well, to do some repairs to the Impala."

"And yourselves," Bobby added in a low voice.

Dean shot him a look. "Dad, why're you calling?"

"What, can't a father call just to say hi to his sons?" John teased.

"Sure, some fathers." Dean became a little uncomfortable with Sam and Bobby staring at him so he got up and walked over to the door. He lowered his voice and said, "But you haven't called in a long time."

"I know, Son." John sighed. "Truth is I could use your help with a job."

"Yeah, Dad. Anything."

"I've been tracking a nest of Vampires down in Enid, Oklahoma. You and I already cleaned out part of their nest once before. Remember Reno?"

"Yeah." Dean swallowed hard as his heart began to pound, images of the fight flashing through his head. It had been a tough battle and they'd barely escaped. Two other hunters were with them and both were now permanently on the sidelines. Dean and John had had to leave the job unfinished to get the injured to safety. By the time they'd returned the nest had fled.

"I want you on this with me, Dean," John said. "We've got to finish it this time. It's too big a job for me to do on my own."

"You know I'll help, Dad." A shiver ran through Dean as he remembered Bobby's comment on Vampires from a few days before. 'Once they get your scent you can never shake 'em.'

"Bring Sam. And maybe see if Bobby will come, too."

"Okay."

"When do you think you can leave?"

Dean glanced back to the table. He'd felt Sam's eyes on him through the entire conversation and saw the look of concern on Sam's face now. "Soon as we get packed."

"Good," John said. "There's a diner outside of town called Ridley's. It's next to a small motel. Meet me there as soon as you can."

"Okay," Dean said. He hesitated, not wanting to let the call go, but finally ended with. "Stay safe, Dad. We'll be there soon."

He went back to the table, sat down and said, "That was Dad."

"No kidding," Sam said impatiently. He couldn't help but feel hurt that John hadn't asked to talk to him. "What'd he want?"

"Help with a vampire nest. He wants us to head out as soon as we get packed." Dean glanced across at Bobby. There'd always been some tension between Bobby and John. "He wanted to know if you'd come, too."

Bobby took his time finishing his coffee. The look in Dean's eye was all he needed to make his decision. "You know I will. This going to be a big job?"

"Yeah." Dean drained his coffee mug, hesitated and said, "A few months ago Dad and I were in Reno to clean out a nest. We'd heard it was big. Jake and Jasmine Tanner were with us. It was bad. Dad and I got to the sire and took him out, but there were so many of them. Every time we took one out more would appear. Jake went down first. They overpowered Jasmine when she went to help him. We barely got them out."

"Jake's in a wheelchair now," Sam said.

Dean nodded soberly. "We got him to the hospital but his back was broken. Jasmine took a pretty serious head injury. They're both in assisted living now."

Sam whistled low and Bobby said, "You know that's not your fault, right Dean?"

"I know. But it doesn't make it any easier."

"Never does," Bobby said. "So, this is the rest of the nest?"

"Yeah. We went back to finish it but they were gone. Dad was furious. I figured he'd track them down eventually."

"Were is it?" Sam asked.

"Enid, Oklahoma."

"That's about a ten hour drive," Bobby said, already in motion. "If we leave within the hour we can get there tonight."

"We'll need machetes," Sam said. He had been running through his internal database on vampires. "Lots of them."

Bobby was already beginning the dishes. "You'll find some out in the garage, Sam. Make sure you sharpen them good before you pack them. You boys get the gear ready and I'll finish here."

Sam started out the door, but Dean hesitated before following. He waited until Sam was out of earshot and said, "Thanks, Bobby."

Bobby didn't respond. He didn't need to. Both the boys knew that as far as Bobby was concerned family ran far thicker than blood.

Under the cover of darkness Dean pulled into the lot of the motel and saw his father's truck. He scanned the area for anything that looked out of place and then parked next to it. Shortly afterwards Bobby's van slid into the spot next to the Impala.

Sam checked the text on his phone and said, "Dad's in room 18."

Dean knocked and was glad to see his father glance out of the window before opening the door. The room was dark and John had a machete in his hand as he stepped back to let them in. He had a few days growth of beard and he was wearing an old, rumpled button up over a pair of jeans. Dean saw the familiar .45 under his Dad's shirttails.

Once the door was closed John dropped the machete onto the bed and pulled Dean into a tight hug. After a minute he let his oldest son go and grabbed Sam. He finally held Sam at arm's length and said, "It's good to see you boys."

There was an awkward pause and then John turned to Bobby. "Thanks for coming."

"Always glad to help," Bobby said. He offered his hand and the two men shook. Bobby and John might not always have seen eye to eye, but this was business, and they never took personal matters into a hunt.

"I got another room next door," John said. "One of you can bunk in here with me."

"Sam and I will take the other room," Bobby said. "Dean snores. Let's get unpacked and then maybe we can grab something to eat over at that diner."

Sam and Bobby headed back outside and John gave Dean a good look. He saw the scar over Dean's eye where the stitches had been. He gave his son a proud grin and said, "Looks like you've been keeping busy."

"Yes, sir," Dean said firmly. There was so much else that he wanted to say, things that he wanted to ask, but he couldn't find the words. He finally fell back on the business at hand. "You scouted out the nest, yet?"

John shook his head no. "I figured I'd wait until you guys got here."

"Smart move." Bobby came through the door having overheard the comment. He set Dean's backpack and a duffle bag full of weapons on the floor. "You think you know where they're holed up?"

"Yeah," John said. "Let's head over to the diner and get some food. I'll fill you in while we eat."

When they were seated at the diner John got a good look at Sam's eye. There was still a yellowish tint where the bruising had been. "That's quite a shiner you got there, Sam."

"Yes, sir," Sam said. He knew that he would never measure up in John's eyes the way Dean did, but he couldn't help trying to impress his father. "It was a ghoul. It put up a good fight but we took care of it."

John nodded. "You have to be careful with ghouls. They're fast and strong. Did you take its head off? You've got to destroy the head to finish off a ghoul."

"Sam took care of it, Dad." Dean said. There was a note of finality in his voice that stopped John in his tracks. He gave his oldest son a look that was equal parts irritated and impressed but didn't push it any further.

After the waitress took their order Bobby asked, "So where's the nest?"

"An old barn on the outskirts of town." John took a map out of the inside pocket of his jacket, slid it to the middle of the table and pointed to an area that he had circled. "There have been a few disappearances in the area. There are also a couple of bodies down at the morgue drained of blood. Coroner is starting to think it's the work of a serial killer."

"He's not wrong," Dean said. He stopped talking as the waitress came near.

She was young and pretty and Dean noted the nametag on her chest that read, Saundra. She had long blonde hair and a very short skirt. She gave Dean a sly smile and then sidled over to their table, leaning next to him. "Your burger will be out in a minute. Is there anything else you want?"

John saw the look in Dean's eye and knew danger when he saw it. He was glad that he'd be able to keep an eye on his son for the night. "We're fine with what we ordered," he told her.

She glanced at John, smiled at Dean and sauntered off.

"Keep your focus, Dean," John warned.

Dean's eyes followed the waitress until she stepped into the kitchen. "Don't worry, Dad. I'm focused."

When Dean continued to stare in that direction Sam snapped his fingers and said, "Hey! Over here!"

Dean grinned at his brother. "No harm in looking."

"My ass there isn't." Bobby glared at Dean. "We have a job to do and you're dad is right. You need to stay focused. I'd just as soon not end up in a wheelchair any time soon."

The comment brought a serious look back to Dean's face. "Sorry."

The waitress returned with their food and Dean just gave her an awkward look.

Bobby waited until she had left, then asked John, "How do you know the nest is in that barn?"

"I followed one of the vampires back to it. One of the ones Dean and I saw in Reno. I got into town a couple of days ago and I've tracked him there twice."

"Why didn't you take him out?" Sam asked.

"They're never alone, Sam." John ate a couple of french fries and downed part of his coffee. "You see one of them and you can be sure there are at least a half dozen more close by. They almost always travel in a pack, no matter where they go. That's what tripped us up in Reno."

"I never saw so many of them in one place," Dean said.

"And that's why we have to stay sharp," John told him, maybe a little too harshly. "We're going to have to watch each other's backs. We can't afford any slipups on this job, Dean. You got that?"

"Yes, sir," Dean said, a hard edge to his voice.

"When do you want to check out the nest?" Sam asked.

"Tomorrow morning," John told him.

Bobby glanced across the table at John. "You think they know you're in town?"

"Maybe," John said. "So we hit them fast. Recon in the morning and clean out the nest tomorrow night."

Saundra hesitated in the wood line, checked a final time to make sure that she hadn't been followed, then crossed the parking lot and knocked at the side door of the barn. When the door opened she slid inside. She saw Drake across the room, dropped her apron on a table and went to speak with the group's leader.

Most vampire nests had a sire as their leader. This nest had lost their sire when the Winchester's had confronted them in Reno. Though the nest had taken out two of the hunters the Winchesters had killed their sire, Adam, before fleeing with the wounded. Drake, the longest surviving member of the pack, had taken over, moved them around for a while and had finally settled the nest in Enid where they had started to regrow their ranks.

He watched as Saundra approached and when she was near enough he asked, "How are our old friends, John and Dean Winchester?" His southern drawl dripped with malice.

"They look just fine, especially that Dean. He's a handsome one." Saundra smiled at Drake and draped herself around his shoulders. "When we kill the others can I keep him? Please?" She sounded like a little girl asking for a pony for Christmas. She slid a finger down Drake's cheek, flashed her fangs and said, "I would love to turn him while his daddy has to watch."

Drake leered at her. "You are insatiable." He watched as some of the pack took turns drinking from an elderly farmer. He loved the moment of the kill. He waited, watching for the change in the man's frightened eyes, and when he saw death come he turned back to Saundra. "Dean dies with his father, and I want them to die slowly. If you want you can keep one of the others."

"I don't want one of the others," Saundra pouted. "I want Dean."

Drake grabbed her by the face, all pretense of the kindly leader gone. "Dean and John Winchester killed Adam." As if to drill the point home he squeezed her face until she gasped in pain. "They killed our sire and they will pay for that."

Drake pushed Saundra away from him and then stalked to the center of the barn. "Children," he called. He waited until he had the attention of his entire nest. "The Winchesters have returned. They plan to kill us all just like they killed Adam." His eyes gleamed and he waited a moment for his words to sink in. "I want revenge. I want them captured and brought to me and I want them to suffer! I want John and Dean Winchester to kneel at my feet to watch while we kill the other hunters, and then I want them to feel every imaginable kind of pain that we can inflict!"

He turned back to Saundra. "And then they die. Go back to the diner and keep an eye on them. If they leave call me."

"Don't make me go back there alone," Saundra said. "I hate being out there alone."

He nodded to three males by the door. "Go with her." He turned back to Saundra, pulled her close and whispered in her ear, "If you get the chance lure your precious Dean away from the others if you like. Bring him to me and I will let you play with him for a while before I get my turn."

Saundra smiled. "Promise?"

He kissed her on the forehead and said, "Promise."

Dean slept poorly. He had dreams of hunting. He saw vampires, demons and werewolves. He slayed them with machetes and guns, with silver, with holy water and with Latin incantations. He saw blood and fire and he was sure he could smell the sweet smell of death.

When he awoke in the morning he was still exhausted, physically as well as mentally. Deep in every part of his existence he was tired, like he had actually been out hunting all night. He lay on the bed, kept his eyes closed and took a moment to wonder if he was supposed to smell anything in a dream. Weren't dreams supposed to be more static? Weren't they supposed to be silent, in black and white, and with no disgusting smells?

Then a new array of smells hit him, the oddly comforting smells of coffee, stale bourbon and sweat. These were the smells Dean associated with his dad from as far back as he could remember and they shook all thoughts of the dreams from his head. His mind quickly shifted to the events of the day before; Dad had called. Dad needed help with a job, and therefore Dad was here.

The idea of hunting with John lit a fire in Dean's belly. He loved hunting with his father. It was uncomplicated, all black and white, pure adrenaline. They went, they saw and they slayed. Dad always took charge and Dean could just settle into the zone, confident that John had a plan. Most of the time anyway. In their line of work there was always the chance that something would go wrong, but when he was with his dad, if something did go wrong Dean could look to John to set the new course. He didn't have to worry about anything more than following orders.

Hunting with Sam was a little more difficult. When he was hunting with his brother Dean always felt a weight of responsibility and worry, and that sometimes wore Dean down. It wasn't that Sam wasn't a good hunter, because he was. But Sam wasn't as committed as Dean and John. He wasn't fully behind the cause and he questioned everything. Dean knew that wasn't always a bad thing, but Dean ran on instinct where Sam ran on knowledge. He knew that Sam's caution balanced out his recklessness, but hunting with Sam was never going to be as natural or as much of a rush as hunting with their father.

The smell of coffee finally drew Dean out of his thoughts. He cracked his eyes open and saw John across the room at the small desk pouring over his hunter's journal. As Dean started to sit up his father looked over, grabbed two Styrofoam cups and the hotel room coffee pot and then crossed the room and sat on the bed across from Dean's.

John was clean shaven and was dressed in a fresh t-shirt and jeans. An old army shirt hung open and loose covering any weapons John might be carrying. He poured them each a cup of coffee, held one out to his son and said, "Good morning. Made the coffee just how you like it. Thick and rich like good motor oil."

Dean took the coffee, raised it in a mock salute and then closed his eyes and let out a contented sigh. He sat with the cup resting against his upper lip just enjoying the smell before taking his first sip.

John smiled, knowing exactly how much Dean needed his morning coffee. It was a trait they both shared and it was kind of a joke between them. Coffee before hunting. Always. He let Dean enjoy those first few sips and then asked, "Sleep okay?"

"Yeah," Dean lied.

John didn't call him on it. He didn't tell Dean that he had watched him thrash around in the middle of the night. Didn't tell him that he had called Dean's name and that, no matter how deeply asleep, when Dean heard his father's voice he had settled down, his breathing quieting into a normal rhythm.

Dean took another sip of coffee, then asked, "How about you? You sleep okay?"

John nodded and also lied. "Slept like a baby."

"Seen Bobby and Sam?"

"They left about an hour ago," John said. "They've gone to scout out the nest. Bobby figured it would be better if you and I weren't around, just in case the vampires are onto us being here."

"Is that safe?" Dean asked. He'd gone from wiping sleep from his eyes to being on full alert and there was a note of alarm in his voice. "Shouldn't we at least be in the area?"

"Don't worry, Dean. Bobby knows what he's doing. That's why he took the room with Sam, to keep him safe in case the vampires came after us. They have our scent, not Sam's or Bobby's. And if I know Bobby he and Sam took turns watching our room all night, just in case."

"Okay." Dean didn't like Bobby and Sam being out there alone but he knew that his father was right. He downed the rest of his coffee and, out of habit, grabbed his phone just to make sure there weren't any messages from Sam.

John studied his son for a moment on the one hand marveling at the leader Dean had become, on the other worried at how ragged and tired Dean looked. Hunting was a tough life and even though the boys had gotten a break at Bobby's John wondered if they were healed up enough for the fight to come.

He also knew there was no time to form a Plan B if they were going to have the advantage taking out the nest. He reached over and refilled Dean's coffee then headed back to his journal. "Grab a shower and get dressed, then we'll head over to the diner for some breakfast."

Bobby Singer was convinced that the barn was the place. It wasn't anything he had seen, though he and Sam had seen some sketchy characters enter the place. It was more a feeling; an inner knowing. They had approached the barn on foot, coming through the woods, dressed and geared up like a couple of deer hunters. The ruse wasn't in case the vampires saw them. It was in case the locals saw them.

There were a couple of old cars parked near the barn. Sam had noted the plate numbers and the descriptions. He'd also jotted down some notes on the men who had entered the barn earlier.

Bobby had a pair of binoculars trained on the building and was noting any and all possible entry and exit points, including loose enough boards should they have to force their way in or out. All the windows were boarded up and there was no way to see inside.

He finally motioned for Sam to follow him and they headed back to the van. It was quite a hike and once they got there Bobby put his rifle and equipment into the back and Sam followed suit.

"Wish we could have gotten a look inside," Bobby said as he and Sam stripped off their camo vests. "That place is a tinder box. We could burn the sons of bitches out if we were sure there weren't innocent people inside."

"But we can't be sure," Sam said with regret. "So we do it the hard way?"

Bobby nodded and sighed. "We do it the hard way."

John had forgotten what a healthy appetite his oldest son had. It made sense. Dean was a warrior and he probably burned a ton of calories. He'd always been restless. Even as a kid John remembered Dean rarely sat still for more than a few minutes at a time. That's why he'd struggled so hard with school. He had no interest in books, like Sam. For as long as John could remember Dean wanted nothing more than to be out on the road hunting with his dad.

Dean shoveled an entire egg into his mouth and noticed his father smiling at him. With his mouth still full he attempted to say, "What?"

"Nothing," John said. He stretched one arm across the back of the booth and watched Dean finish his breakfast. "I guess sometimes I just miss things like this; normal things with you and Sam."

"Yeah," Dean said. He wiped a drip of egg yolk off his chin with a napkin and said, "Dad…"

John stopped him, motioning toward the back of the restaurant with his coffee mug. "Your girlfriend is back at work again this morning."

"I saw." Dean was a little irritated that his father had cut him off. He didn't much feel like being lectured again.

"She has some friends sitting in a booth by the door," John added as he casually sipped his coffee.

Dean drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He noted where his father had looked, dropped his napkin and bent over to pick it up, using it as a way to see what his father had seen. Likely a table full of vampires. He sat up again, picked up his coffee mug and said, "Yeah, this is real normal."

"Feel like going for a drive?" John asked.

"Always."

"You have the keys to the Impala?"

Dean just nodded and his father said, "Let's see if we're right."

He slid out of the booth and Dean followed suit. John threw some cash on the table and then headed for the door. Once outside he and Dean went right to the Impala. It didn't take long for the others to follow.

As Dean drove out of town John asked, "What do you have for weapons in this thing?"

"There's a couple of machetes under the seat," Dean said.

John clapped him on the shoulder, glancing down to see the handle of a machete poking out from underneath the seat. He pulled out his cell phone and started to dial. "Good planning, Son."

"It was Sam's idea."

John nodded. "They still following us?"

Dean glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the four vampires. "Yup. Blue sedan. Looks like the waitress is taking the rest of the day off."

"Try to put some distance on them," John said. "Let's find some place to throw them a surprise party. See if we can thin out the herd a bit." He finished dialing Bobby's number and when the gruff voice answered John said, "Dean and I are being followed by a blue sedan. We're trying to lure them out of town, west on route 114. Think you can give us a hand?"

Dean heard Bobby say, "We're on the way."

Dean floored the accelerator, catching the vampires off guard. He drove until he found a wide, deserted, four-way intersection and then he slid the Impala in an arc, blocking the road as well as he could. He and John got out of the car, grabbed the machetes and waited for the sedan to appear. It came roaring around the corner and slid to a stop.

By the time the vamps were opening the doors John and Dean were on them. John took the front passenger's head off before his foot hit the ground. On the other side of the car Dean was dragging the driver out. He planted a boot in the vamp's back, kicked him to the ground and swung the machete down in another clean kill.

Dean started to move toward the female who had gotten out of the car and was backing away. He saw his father wrestling with the other back passenger but he kept his focus on Saundra. She smiled at him and said, "You don't really want to hurt me, do you?"

With a look of determination Dean said, "No. I want to end you."

He heard the screeching of tires and chanced a look behind him hoping it was Bobby and Sam. When he saw more vamps pouring out of the bed of a pickup truck he said, "Crap."

Dean tried to yell a warning to John but Saundra was on him. She was fast and in seconds had Dean pinned against the car, one hand gripping the wrist holding the machete and the other around Dean's throat. Dean grabbed at her arm trying to throw her off. She was strong and his vision was starting to blur. He tried to drag in a lung full of air but couldn't.

She held tight to his throat and leaned in, whispering in his ear. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to get this close to you." She sniffed his neck and ran her tongue along Dean's jawline. "You smell and taste just the way I imagined you would. Like soon-to-be-dead hunter."

On the verge of passing out Dean heard his father yell his name. John had finished off the vampire he had been wrestling with and was rounding the front of the car to help his son. Before he could get there he was grabbed by some of the vampires from the pickup truck.

Dean saw this from the corner of his eye and fear for his father flooded his system with adrenaline. He suddenly growled low in his throat, pulled back his head and smashed it into Saundra's nose. Blood spurted from her face and she stumbled backwards yelling, "Son of a bitch!"

She surged forward again but before she could grab Dean an arrow impaled itself in her shoulder. She pawed at it, whimpered and then crumbled to the ground.

Dean spun around and saw Bobby and Sam fighting with two vampires. The others had dragged John into the bed of the pickup truck. Dean ran forward trying to grab the bed of the truck but John caught his eye and frantically shook his head no trying to warn his son off. As the truck picked up speed Dean made a final lunge for it, missed and hit the ground in a hard shoulder roll.

Bobby and Sam finished off the two vampires and Sam ran over and pulled Dean to his feet. He looked his brother over, checking for wounds, and asked, "Are you okay?"

Dean rubbed his throat. "Dad!"

"We saw," Sam said, his voice tight with worry.

Dean tried to move toward the Impala but Sam had a hand wrapped in the collar of his jacket holding him back. Dean looked at his brother and said, "What the Hell, Sam? We have to go after Dad!"

Bobby came over dragging Saundra with him. She was gagged and her hands were tied behind her back. Bobby shoved her at Sam and said, "Load her in the van."

Sam did as he was told and Bobby turned to face Dean. "Listen to me!"

"We have to get going," Dean said. He turned away but Bobby grabbed his jacket and spun him back around.

Bobby held onto Dean by his lapels. He stared hard at him, shook Dean to get his attention and said, "We're gonna get John back, but if we rush in their now we don't stand a chance."

Dean was stunned. Ice water seemed to flood his veins as he stared back at Bobby. He didn't understand why they were stalling. "Bobby, we have to go after him! They could be bleeding Dad or turning him."

"Don't you think I know that?" Bobby asked. He still held tight to Dean's lapels, afraid to let him go. "Son, if we go in there now John's a dead man. The numbers are against us. We have to get some intel and wait until dark. Right now the only thing we have on our side is stealth."

Silence spread out between them as Bobby held on to Dean, their eyes still locked. He finally felt the younger man's shoulders relax and he let his grip slacken a bit. "Now if I let you go are you going to rush over to that barn and get yourself killed?"

Dean dropped his eyes to the pavement and shook his head no.

"Okay," Bobby said, relief flooding his system. They walked over to the van and when Sam was within earshot Bobby said, "We're going back to the motel to grab our gear. I don't think they'll hit us there in broad daylight. Once we're loaded up we're going to find someplace to have a chat with our friend here." He threw a thumb over his shoulder indicating their hostage in the van. "Sam, you ride in the back with her. Dean, bring the Impala. You're our eyes. When we get back to the motel keep your distance and make sure we're not being followed or watched. Got it?"

They both fired off a quick, "Yes, sir."

John Winchester hung from a rope that had been thrown over an old beam in the roof of the barn. The rope was tied around his wrists and he was suspended, hands high over his head and his feet barely touching the floor. His face was a mess. Blood was matted in his hair and had seeped into the collar of his army shirt from a gash on the side of his head.

While the majority of the vampires watched in interest Drake walked around John assessing him like a prized possession. "John, John, John. So nice of you to drop by," he taunted. He clasped his hands behind his back and kept circling. "I was hoping for a little family reunion, but your boy Dean? He's a cunning one."

Drake suddenly grabbed John and spun the hunter around to face him. John let out a hiss of pain when the rope cut into his wrists. Drake just smiled and said, "You'll be glad to know that your friends all got away. But Dean? He's angry. He's going to come looking for you and he's going to lead them all right into a trap."

"Don't bet on it," John choked out.

"Oh, I would bet on it," Drake told him. "You see, I think your boy is a lot like his daddy. He's got vengeance in his soul and that's going to make him reckless, just like in Reno. You really underestimated us there, John. Nearly cost your friends their lives. But don't you worry. We'll find them one day and we will finish them."

"Like we finished your sire?" John asked.

There was silence in the barn and then Drake punched John hard in ribs.

John grunted with pain, spit out a mouthful of blood and looked Drake dead in the eye. "You're right about Dean." John's voice was low and dangerous. "He is a lot like me and he does have vengeance in his soul. But he's also smarter than I am. He'll come looking for me, but before he does he'll call in every hunter within 500 miles and then he'll come here and he will end you and every one of your blood sucking friends."

Drake's response sounded almost childish. "I'd like to see him try."

"Well, that's the problem." John smiled a chilling look in his eye. "You won't see him coming. But once reinforcements arrive he will come with the fury of God's own vengeance. If I were you, I'd finish whatever business you have with me and then scatter before he gets here."

Drake looked as if he were considering it for a moment and then he said, "No. No, I think we'll wait right here for your boy and his little hunter friends. See, I don't think your son will wait long to come for you. I don't think he or your friends will wait for reinforcements. I think they'll bide their time for a while to keep us off our guard and I think they will stay very close."

He walked over to a table and grabbed a large silver knife with a curved blade and a very sharp point. He held it up so that John could have a good look. "And I do believe that if I make you scream loud enough for Dean to hear, he will come running."

Bobby, Sam and Dean were holed up with their hostage in an old, abandoned cabin. Bobby had taken them to a small town south of Enid, far enough away that he figured they would be off the radar of the vampires for a while.

While Bobby and Dean cleaned and prepared their weapons Sam kept an eye on Saundra. She was tied to a chair in the middle of the kitchen. They had taken the gag out of her mouth but, just for good measure, they had left the arrow imbedded in her shoulder.

She kept a wary eye on the hunters. The arrow hurt, much more than it should. She finally looked at Sam and asked, "What was on this thing?"

He held up an old mason jar filled with a deep, red liquid. "Dean man's blood. Got it from one of your victims down at the morgue. Right now we're dipping every blade, arrow and bullet in it as a surprise for your friends. Doesn't feel so good, does it?"

"It hurts, and it makes me feel weak." She gave him her best smile and batted her eyes. "Why, I'm so weak that you could probably untie me and do just about anything you wanted to me."

"No thanks," Sam said.

She tried another tactic. "What's your name, anyway? I don't think we've been properly introduced."

Bobby shot Sam a warning look and Sam said, "My name isn't important."

"Well then what are we doing here if it isn't to get to know one another?"

Dean stalked across the room and handed Sam a sawed off shotgun. "Go give Bobby a hand with the weapons," he said. "I'll take over here."

"You sure?" Sam asked.

Dean smiled at Saundra. "Dead sure." He offered her a very dangerous smile and said, "Let's talk."

A short while later Dean exited the cabin wiping blood off of the machete he had used to decapitate Saundra. He walked over to Sam and Bobby and tossed the machete into the van on top the weapons pile. As an afterthought he pulled an arrow from an inside pocket of his jacket. It was the arrow that had been imbedded in her shoulder.

Dean looked at his brother, handed him the arrow and said, "Might as well use this again."

Sam took it, grabbed the machete Dean had tossed into the van and wiped both weapons down with the dead man's blood.

"Well?" Bobby asked.

Dean shook his head, a look of unease on his face, his voice hard and flat. "She didn't give me much. Claims Dad's the only hostage in the place, but who knows. I say we head over there and get Dad back. Let's get this over with."

"I say different," Bobby told him. His voice was harsh as he tried to get through to Dean's better judgement. "You're still thinking with your emotions and not your brains, Boy. Damn it, Dean, you're smarter than this. If they'd taken you hostage, and not your dad, you'd be pissed as Hell if we rushed in trying to save you and botched the whole thing up."

Dean didn't say anything. He just stared Bobby down.

Finally Sam said. "Bobby's right." When Dean didn't snap at him, he said, "We made some phone calls. Rufus is only a couple of hours away. He should be here soon. We tried Ellen, Jim, Daniel and a few others. They all offered to come but they're too far away. I think we should wait until Rufus gets here and then make a plan."

"The Hell with that," Bobby said. He looked at the boys. "We make a plan now and act when Rufus gets here. Sam, take the Impala and go see if you can rustle up a couple of gallons of gas. Drive further south. Don't be stupid enough to go back into town. Dean, give your brother the keys."

Dean pulled the keys out of his pocket and said, "I'll go with Sam."

"No, you won't," Bobby told him. "You'll stay here and help me. As long as Sam uses his head he'll be fine."

Dean looked as if he was going to argue but he kept his mouth closed and tossed Sam the keys.

As Sam caught them he said, "What's the plan, Bobby?"

"Molotov cocktails. Dean and I will find some old bottles, cut some rags and get rid of the waitress's body. Once Rufus gets here we're gonna drive over to that barn, drag your dad out, and if there aren't any other hostages we're gonna burn that place to the ground, and every vampire with it."

"And if there are hostages?" Dean asked.

Bobby grabbed a machete out of the van and said, "Then, by God, we will cut through every vampire in there until this job is finished once and for all!"

For the first time in hours a fire seemed to spark inside Dean. As the flame spread he set his jaw, stared Bobby in the eye and nodded his agreement.

At the barn Rufus, Bobby, Sam and Dean knelt in the wood line surveying the area. It was dark but the moon cast enough of a glow that they could see fairly well. Still, Bobby was worried. He knew that the vampires had a much keener sense of sight and smell and he wondered if they didn't already know that the hunters were there. He hoped that they were dumb enough to be drinking, celebrating their capture of the infamous John Winchester.

Rufus took a final look around. His eyes were slightly bloodshot from a lack of sleep and the quick drive to Enid. He sighed, glanced at his longtime friend and said, "Bobby, this just might be the stupidest plan you've ever come up with, and you've had some real winners."

Bobby glared at him. "You got something better?"

Rufus thought for a minute. "Nope."

"Well, thanks for the helpful input." Bobby rolled his eyes and reminded them of the plan. "We take out any sentries outside. Crossbows and machetes, no guns. We need the element of surprise once we get inside."

"Oh, they'll be surprised all right," Rufus groused. "Surprised at how stupid we are."

"You know, you didn't have to come," Bobby growled.

"What, and let you guys have all the fun? Hell no."

Bobby just shook his head. Rufus was a good friend and one of his favorite hunting buddies, but he was such an old hen sometimes.

He pointed across the clearing to an old car parked near the back of the barn. "Dean, once we're done with the sentries use whatever you have to light that thing on fire. Maybe we can draw some of them outside, thin them out a bit."

"My pleasure," Dean said.

"And be careful," Bobby warned. "They're gonna know we set that fire. You light it and then get to cover, understand? We don't need you getting caught in the crossfire."

A genuine smile crossed Dean's face as he said, "Careful is my middle name, Bobby."

"Right," Bobby ground out. He was starting to think that Rufus' assessment of the plan might be spot on. "When they start coming out of the barn Dean and I will hit them with arrows. We can clean up the mess later. Sam, you get inside and find your dad. Once you know where he is you get the signal to Rufus and he'll plow a hole in the side of that barn with his truck. Your priority is to get your dad out of there. Rufus is your backup. Dean, you're with me."

Before they moved out Rufus asked, "Remind me why we're using my truck?"

"Because it's the biggest chunk of metal we've got," Bobby told him. He glanced around once more and then headed off to the right side of the barn with Dean on his tail. Rufus and Sam headed left.

It didn't take long to eliminate the sentries, though Sam had a short scuffle with one. The vamp was big, taller than Sam and broader than Dean. He took a couple of swings at Sam before Sam was able to get him into a throat hold and drag him to the ground. Just about the time the vampire was going to yell for help Rufus thrust an arrow into its mouth with such force that the tip erupted from the back of his neck, barely missing Sam's face.

Rufus finished the job with a machete as Sam crawled to his feet, wiping a few drops of the vampire's blood off his cheek. He gave Rufus a grateful nod and said, "Thanks."

They saw a glow at the back of the barn and knew that Dean had lit the car on fire.

Rufus gave Sam a gleeful smile and said, "Time to go!" He headed for his truck and Sam took cover behind an old log pile.

A half dozen vampires came out of the barn, cautiously heading for the burning car. Dean and Bobby let them get close and then hit them with arrows. Within a minute they were all crumpled on the ground rolling around like newborn kittens, the dead man's blood doing its job.

As Dean followed Bobby one of the vampires made a lame grab for his boot. Dean heel smacked him in the nose and said, "That's for Jasmine and Jake." He reached for his machete and Bobby was about to stop him, but he saw the look of anger in Dean's eye and he decided to let the boy get a little of it out of his system. Dean brought the machete down with a vicious swing and Bobby just gave him a nod of approval.

Sam met them at the door of the barn and without a word he raised his foot and smashed it into the door latch, splintering wood and forcing the door inwards. It caught a vampire off guard. He'd been a little too close, and with one swipe of his machete Sam finished him off. He saw his dad hanging from a rope near the back of the barn so he turned around, let out a shrill whistle and pointed to where he wanted Rufus and the truck.

There was chaos in the barn as the vampires readied for the attack, but at the roar of the engine and the screech of tires most eyes turned toward the sound. Rufus rammed his truck straight through the side of the barn, splintered wood and vampires flying in all directions. It gave Sam the time he needed to run across the barn to his dad.

Rufus jumped out of the truck, grabbed his machete and an old handgun and followed Sam. He laid down cover fire while Sam pulled out his knife and began to cut John down.

John looked pretty bad, but once Sam had cut the ropes John tried to take his own weight hoping to get in on the fight. As he hit the ground his knees gave out on him and Sam grabbed him, holding him upright. "I've got you, Dad."

"Hey, Sam," John smiled. "Better duck, Son."

One of the vampires was coming up fast behind them. Without having to even think John reached around behind Sam, grabbed Sam's handgun and shot the vampire right in the center of the forehead. It was all the energy John had. His arm fell limp and Sam barley managed to grab the gun out of his father's hand before it clattered to the ground.

Sam slid an arm under his father's shoulder and as he shifted John into a better position he was shocked to see the amount of blood covering the shirt under his father's army jacket. Sam gasped and said, "Dad, what happened?"

Before John could answer Rufus came up behind them and brought his machete down on the neck of the vampire that John had shot. He severed its head and then turned to Sam and John. He saw the blood, saw the ashen look on John's face and said, "Sam, we've got to get him out of here. Let's get him to the van so we can stop the bleeding."

"What about Dean and Bobby?" Sam asked.

Rufus glanced across the barn and saw the pile of bodies. "They look like they're doing all right." He slid under John's other arm and they headed out to the van.

On the other side of the barn Dean and Bobby were working back to back, letting the vampires bring the fight to them. It was an easy tactic to help them lessen the amount of energy they had to expend during the battle and it seemed to be working. Still, they had each taken their share of cuts and bruises and they were getting tired.

Bobby had a nasty cut on his right shoulder and he'd had to shift the machete to his left hand. He'd pulled his handgun and was wielding that with his right. As a vampire approached he'd shoot it, then he'd bring the machete down to finish the job.

Dean was slicing into the vampires with a fury that belied the exhaustion that was sinking in. He brought down a vicious stroke, taking the arm off of one, and as it grasped frantically at the stump left behind Bobby said, "You never should have messed with that boy's family," then finished it off.

The vampires' numbers were dwindling and the hunters had gotten a good enough look around the barn to know that there were no living victims left. The place was a mess of splintered wood, bodies and bales of old hay but they were confident that any human victims were well beyond helping.

Drake had retreated to a corner of the barn, a cadre of his minions gathered to protect him. He watched with hatred as Sam and Rufus rescued John and as Dean and Bobby worked their way through his nest. Still, he was confident that they could turn the tide and win the battle against the hunters.

A deadly silence filled the barn when Dean and Bobby had finished off their attackers. Dean was breathing heavily and was covered with blood, some his and some from the vampires. He glared across the barn at Drake and then glanced at Bobby.

Bobby knew what he was thinking and with a brief nod and a deep breath Bobby said, "I'm ready."

They started across the room, Dean reaching down to pick up a backpack that he had brought with him. He slung it onto his back, brandished his machete and stepped forward.

The vampires around Drake steeled themselves for the attack but Sam's yells from outside brought Dean and Bobby to a halt.

A flash of fear flew through Dean and he heard Bobby whisper, "Damn it."

Dean thought for a split second, then dropped his machete and opened the backpack. He pulled out a Molotov cocktail and dug his Zippo lighter out of his pants pocket. As he sparked the flame he told Bobby, "Go help Sam."

Bobby gave him a quick look. "Are you sure?"

Dean just nodded. "I've got this." His eyes never left Drake who was smiling at the turn of events.

Bobby charged out of the barn and Dean and Drake stared at each other like two old west cowboys about to engage in a shootout.

Drake's minions waited for him to give the command to attack, but he just held up a hand holding them off. He took a couple of steps forward as Dean held his lighter near the wick on the bottle of gasoline.

Drake evaluated Dean. He looked at the bales of hay surrounding them and said, "You light that thing and throw it and you'll die in this barn with us."

Dean just smiled and Drake immediately knew that he had misjudged the oldest Winchester boy. As Dean lit the wick he said, "It'll be worth it."

Dean tossed the bottle and it hit, breaking against a wooden beam. Fire started to shower down on bales of hay which started a small inferno. Dean gave them a second to catch and then started to back away. He eyed Drake and waited for the vampire and the last of his nest to charge. When they did Dean tossed the rest of the bottles of gasoline into the fire and grabbed his machete.

Outside the barn Bobby and Rufus were finishing off the last of the vampires that had made it outside. Bobby smelled smoke and saw a look of terror coming over Sam's face. He spun around just as Sam yelled, "Dean!"

Bobby saw the fire tearing through the old barn. He turned back and saw John struggling to get away from Sam. Bobby knew what must be going through John's mind with his oldest boy inside that burning barn. He gave Sam a meaningful look and yelled, "Stay there! We'll get Dean!"

He didn't need to ask Rufus for help. Rufus was already on his way to the barn, coughing from the thick smoke that was pouring from the smashed open door. They were thirty yards away when part of the roof caved in and they were thrown back by a wave of heat and flame emanating from the collapse.

This time it was John's anguished voice that split the night. "No! Dean!"

It was all that was needed for the two older hunters to renew their efforts. They crawled to their feet and were trying to make it to the door when Dean emerged from the wreckage. He was covered in black soot and red blood, a shower of ashes and embers falling around him, his face eerily lit by the fully involved fire of the barn.

The sight sent a chill down Bobby's spine. Dean had his machete clutched in one hand. Blood was thick on the blade and was dripping from the tip. He looked like he was walking out of the mouth of Hell itself. Bobby caught a fiery gleam in Dean's eye that made the barn fire look meek and sent a jolt of fear through Bobby's entire body.

Dean's clothes were smoking and he had a look of fury on his face. Bobby took a step forward and slowly reached for Dean's machete. In as calm a voice as he could muster he said, "Dean. You okay, Son?"

Dean clutched the weapon more tightly and his eyes snapped to Bobby. Bobby saw a focus in Dean that hadn't been there when he had first come out of the barn. Dean looked at Bobby, as if he were looking straight into Bobby's soul, and with steel in his voice he asked, "Where are Sam and Dad?"

"They're safe," Bobby said simply as he pointed to the van. He stood close enough now to reach out and lay a hand on Dean's shoulder. He was afraid that Dean would charge back into the fire like a scared and wounded animal and he was prepared to grab him if he did.

Dean glanced over and saw Sam trying to hold their father back. He stared at them for a long while; saw their fear and concern, and the look of pain on John's face and the blood covering his clothes. Then Dean's eyes slid to Bobby once more. A look of confusion crossed Dean's face and he whispered, "Bobby?" His body suddenly relaxed and without warning he collapsed to the ground.

Bobby and Rufus grabbed him and pulled him away from the barn. The effort pushed Bobby to his limit and he dropped to his knees next to Dean. Though he was exhausted, and the cut in his shoulder was agony, Bobby pulled the boy into his arms and held him tight.

Rufus was sure he saw a tear slide down Bobby's face, though later Bobby would attribute it to the smoke and not to his relief that Dean was alive. Rufus busied himself making sure Dean's clothes weren't burning, giving Bobby a minute to compose himself, then he helped Bobby move Dean to the van.

Though he was barely able to stand John broke free from Sam's grasp and staggered over to Dean, pulling his boy in with his one uninjured arm. Sam didn't stop his father. He knew John needed the solidity of Dean's body as confirmation that his son was alive. Sam shifted aside some of the weapons in the van to make room for John and Dean and swallowed down his own fear for his family. He still had a tight knot of worry in his stomach knowing that getting them away from the vampires was just the beginning of making them safe.

Bobby and Rufus helped John get Dean into the van. John winced in pain as he slid down beside Dean. He rested one hand on his son's chest, felt the reassuring rise and fall of Dean's breathing and then gave Rufus and Bobby a nod of thanks before he shut his eyes and allowed himself to drift off.

With a heavy sigh Rufus looked back at the barn. He reached out and put one hand on Bobby's shoulder and the other on Sam's. He shook his head and said, "You two sure know how to throw a party but we have to get out of here." As they turned around he said, "Damn good thing that truck I brought was stolen."

Bobby couldn't help but give a tired laugh as he dragged himself into the driver's seat of the van.

Rufus stayed at Bobby's long enough to make sure that they had all of the supplies they would need; food, medicine and blood. He was able to get it all. Finding things was a specialty of his.

Before heading back to Sioux Falls Rufus and Sam had gone back to the barn to make sure that there wasn't anything that needed to be dealt with. The place had burned so hot that there was very little left behind. The local authorities attributed the fire to teenagers ramming the stolen vehicle into the barn and setting the place on fire to cover their tracks.

The next morning Rufus got a call from another old friend, borrowed a car from Bobby and headed off to assist on a hunt.

After Rufus had left John settled in at the kitchen table with Bobby while Sam kept watch over Dean. Dean had been in and out of consciousness since the fire, but he'd been settling into longer bouts of normal sleep so they were feeling pretty good about his progress. They were mostly concerned with the amount of smoke Dean had taken in as well as some burns that he'd suffered. He needed a few stitches but mostly they figured he needed to rest and heal internally.

John had suffered a concussion, had lost a lot of blood from the cuts Drake had subjected him to, and had dislocated a shoulder. Bobby and Sam had patched him up, made sure he got plenty of fluids and some new blood, and after two days of rest he was feeling more like himself.

Largely Rufus and Sam were unscathed. Bobby needed some stitches in his shoulder and a good, stiff drink, but he was doing okay, too.

As they sipped coffee Bobby told John what he had seen in Dean's eyes when Dean had come out of the barn. He mentioned the shocking amount of blood on the machete and the fear and cold that had run threw him at the look on Dean's face. "It was demonic; like he was in a trance," Bobby said, a hint of the fear still lingering. "I'd've sworn he was possessed. Then, as soon as he knew you and Sam were safe, he just collapsed."

John took a moment to think things through and said, "He's always been protective of family, Bobby. Particularly of Sam. You know that."

Bobby nodded. "Yeah, but it was more than just that this time, John. We're gonna need to keep an eye on that boy for a while."

"We will," John said. "Let's just give him some time, okay?"

Bobby nodded in agreement.

Later that day John was resting in an old arm chair next to Dean's bed. He had his feet up on the bed and his eyes closed when he felt Dean stir. He watched Dean struggle with consciousness and saw his eyes finally focus.

John smiled at his boy. "Hey, Dean. Good to have you back, Son."

Dean blinked and looked at his father. He wrinkled his nose and said, "What's that smell? It smells like a barbecue in here."

John laughed. "That's you, Kiddo. What the Hell were you thinking, setting that barn on fire while you were still inside? You damn near died!" His smile faltered and he said, "Damn it, Dean. We all thought we'd lost you."

"I'm sorry, Dad." He started to cough and struggled to sit up. John helped him into a more comfortable position and helped him get a little water down. Finally Dean said, "I guess I was thinking that there was no way those bastards were getting out of that barn, no matter what. They were never coming after us again, Dad. Not if I could help it."

John shivered a little at the resolve in Dean's voice. He thought back on what Bobby had said and rested a hand on Dean's shoulder. There was so much tension in his son's body.

Gently, John said, "We need to talk about what happened in that barn, Son." He saw a cloud come over Dean's face. "We don't have to do it now. But we're going to have to talk about it soon, okay?"

Dean nodded, his resolve starting to crumble. He looked John in the eye and in a voice that was nearly pleading he said, "Just not now, okay, Dad? Just… can we just sit here a while, you and me? I'm so damned tired."

John squeezed his shoulder and felt some of the tension draining away. He watched his son turn from a warrior to a little boy again and said, "That sounds great, Dean. I'm tired, too."

He ruffled his son's singed hair and when Dean didn't protest he said, "Why don't you close your eyes for a while? I'll be here when you wake up. I'm not going anywhere any time soon." He indicated the sling protecting his shoulder and said, "Figure I'll hang around here with you boys and Bobby while my busted wing heals up a bit. That sound good?"

Dean sank back onto his pillow and his hand brushed against his father's leg. A sense of security flooded through him and for the first time in a long time he wasn't afraid to close his eyes and sleep. "That sounds awesome, Dad. Just awesome."

- The end -