Disclaimer: I own absolutely no part of Supernatural…as much as I know we would all love to have the rights to Jared and Jensen.

Alright…I opened this account years ago and have yet to write anything in it, so it's a little daunting to be starting now, lol. However, out of the many story ideas that have crossed through my mind over the years, this is one I've decided to actually try out. Supernatural is by far one of my favorite series, and I will probably never be able to do it justice. But, even if this is only for my own enjoyment and you all hate it, I wanted to finally take a crack at writing something.

Therefore, I (nervously) present to you chapter one.

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Six months. Six whole months. And Dean Winchester couldn't decide if really felt more like six years or six days instead. Days did seem to just blur together sometimes, but at the same time the absence of so many things is what brought to his attention how much time really had passed. He wasn't sure if it made a difference either way though. It was all just…life now.

Dean shoved the key into the lock, jiggling it around a few times before it finally clicked and the door swung open. He strolled into the small, one-bedroom apartment he called home now, throwing the keys and his jacket on a side table as he went. The place wasn't anything fancy. The AC didn't work, the water took ten minutes to warm up, and almost everywhere you looked something was peeling or chipped, but it wasn't like he could afford anything else. Besides, it was definitely better than any of the hundreds of sketchy motels and inns he had stayed in over the years. Lisa, of course, had offered for him to stay in her house, and he had for a couple of weeks after…after he came back, but he knew it wasn't right. At least not right now. The last thing he needed was for Ben, or even Lisa, to get mixed signals.

Don't get him wrong; he genuinely cared for both of them that he was sure of. Lisa had obviously changed since their "bendy weekend" together, but she was still as good a woman as ever. And Ben…well, Ben was just like Dean when he was little, so of course he was awesome. Still, despite all his efforts to settle down into a normal lifestyle, he knew he wasn't quite…there yet. At least not close enough that he could really give the Braeden's what they deserved. Hunting had been put aside, though, which was probably the biggest step of all. He kept in touch with Bobby, once in a while, and people would still call him about cases sometimes but he politely (as politely as he could muster) declined. There was no more pouring over newspapers or surfing the Internet for hints of the supernatural. He didn't even open the trunk of the impala, though he realized he should probably clean that out at some point, just so he didn't get caught with it. He forced himself to quit cold turkey, but it wasn't as hard to resist the urge as he thought it might be. The reasons could have been multiple, though at the base of every one was the same core reason. Sam.

The thought was fleeting, but it was enough to send Dean over to the fridge to grab a bottle of cold beer. Cracking the lid off against the counter top, he put the slightly bitter liquid to his lips and downed almost half of it in a couple of long gulps. As he leaned against the hard surface, he saw his phone, his home one, blinking. With the bottle still in hand, he quickly went over and pressed a few buttons, in order to hear the message. "Hey Dean, it's me," it began, Lisa's voice quickly filling up the room. "Listen, I know it might not be your thing but…my parents are going to be in town this weekend. They know you've been staying around here, and I just wanted to extend a proper dinner invitation. It could be nice for you to meet them. Nothing fancy, I promise, and don't feel like you have to. I just wanted you to know…so, call me when you can, okay? Bye."

A longer beep signaled the end of the message, and somehow Dean felt the barest of smiles making its way across his face. Meeting the parents, huh? He couldn't remember the last time he did that and had it end well. Still, he was grateful that she thought to include him. Lisa was making a damn impressive effort to include him in her and Ben's life, most likely also in an attempt to ease his own assimilation into this kind of lifestyle, even if it wasn't with them. He didn't know if he could ever fully repay her. "Dinner with the folks…" he repeated to himself, shaking his head once before taking another swig of beer. Well, maybe that would be a start. He made a mental note to call her back tonight, but at the moment it had been a long day, and all he really wanted was a bit of shut-eye.

Finishing the rest of his drink, Dean strolled over to his couch, and flopped down horizontally on the cushions, eyes already beginning to close as his head hit an armrest.

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Sam was standing near the wall of the poorly lit room. Well, perhaps standing was an overstatement. It looked liked his knees were attempting to buckle underneath him, but he was being forced upright by his wrists that were tied tightly to some pipes above him. Sweat and dirt marred his features, and most of his clothes, though otherwise he seemed unhurt. Simply exhausted. There was the sound of a door opening, and then footsteps, clicking with high heels. Sam lifted his head just barely,

"Good morning sunshine," a crisp, female voice spoke. "Hope the accommodations are to your liking. But I can't imagine this is your first time being chained up. You are a Winchester, after all," she continued, her tone almost cheery, but there was a dark edge to it.

"Who are you?" Sam asked right away, his voice hoarse, but mostly steady and clearly audible.

The woman stepped forward, much more in view now, standing under one of the few light bulbs that occupied the space. She had chestnut brown hair, cut short into almost a bob, though the ends curled out gently. Her frame was tall and lean, as she wore a simple navy dress with leggings and boots. Her grey eyes were looking straight at Sam with a slightly hardened expression. "Tsk, such a shame you don't recognize me," she said, tilting her head a little. "I supposed that's the problem with all this possessing business," she added, her eyes rolling back to reveal a now pitch-black gaze.

Sam's own eyes narrowed slightly. "Right, so we've met…" he stated flatly, seemingly racking his mind for the answer. "Meg…Ruby?" he prodded, rather hoping he was wrong on both accounts though.

She merely gave a scoff, and took a few slow, lengthy steps forward so she was only inches away from his face. "Think harder, love" she replied, and it suddenly hit him. Her accent. It was British.

Surprise quickly passed over his features as he put the pieces into place. "Bela…" he said, almost quietly.

She gave a wicked smirk as she stepped back again. "Give the man a prize," she said sarcastically. "It really has been too long, Sam, though longer for me as you can imagine. I'm sure Dean mentioned that time doesn't really fly in Hell," Bela continued, bitterness creeping into her tone.

"Why are you doing this Bela?" he demanded, though surprisingly he still sounded more confused than angry. "Is this because Dean and I couldn't save you? If you told us-"

"No it's, not that," the brunette cut him off quickly. "Dare I say it, no one could have probably helped me with that," she admitted grudgingly.

"Then what am I doing here, huh?" he asked, beginning to sound impatient.

Her head turned to look at him, her face seemingly calm, and her eyes were no longer black, but the coldness hadn't left them. "You're doing nothing. You're not the one I have a bone to pick with," she said simply. "It's merely a well known fact that if you want to get to one Winchester, you have to get the other first."

Sam looked momentarily stunned, observing her closely. "You want Dean? What would you want with him, but not with me?"

Bela gave a harsh laugh, striding back over to him quickly. "What would I want with him? Isn't it obv…" she began angrily, but then suddenly paused, realization washing over her features. "He…he didn't tell you, did he?" The woman fell back a few paces, laughing again, though much more bitterly this time. "Of course he didn't. The heroic older brother…he wouldn't ruin his precious image even for you, would he?" she shook her head, looking down for a moment, before she stood rigid again, her previous coldness returning. "Well, it doesn't matter. He can tell you all about it when he gets here."

This time Sam shook his head. "Look, I don't know what you've got planned, but I can tell you now, Dean isn't coming," he informed her matter-of-factly.

Bela just rolled her eyes. "Oh really? Since when does Dean ever not try when it comes to you?"

Sam's gaze shifted to the floor. "It's not the same. He believes I'm dead Bela, or as good as dead. Same as everyone else that I knew," he explained, trying to sound nonchalant about it, but the smallest hint of disappointment, or possibly regret, made its way into his tone.

She seemed to freeze a little, doubt almost passing over her features, but she hid it well. "I highly doubt he believes that. It's you two idiots, we're talking about…always springing the other out of trouble, even if you know you shouldn't," she replied flatly. "You really think he would ever just leave it as 'oh well, guess my baby brother is stuck in a box in hell for all eternity?"

"How about you really think, Bela," he said, truly sounding a little angry for the first time. "You found me all alone, no signs that I was traveling with anybody else. And by my estimate I've been in here for days, and nobody's even tried to contact me, am I right?" he asked pointedly. She said nothing, but the woman's jaw tightened slightly as she looked off to the side. "It's been half a year since the apocalypse, and I'm on my own. Nobody's coming, and even if you track down Dean yourself, he won't believe I'm here," Sam continued, his tone serious.

Bela's arm crossed, as there was a moment of tense silence between them. Then her arms dropped flatly at her sides, suddenly looking at him sharply. "Things haven't changed that much," she said sternly. "He'll come, one way or the other. I'll make sure of it." With that, she turned swiftly on her heels, walking out of the room and slamming the door behind her.

And then Dean Winchester awoke with a jolt, sitting straight up on the couch, his dark green eyes widening with surprise.

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Phew. Well, there it is. Hopefully my chapters will normally be longer than this, but I need to get a little warmed up first. I would love reviews, both positive and negative (I promise I can take the criticism…most days). Will do my best to update weekly, especially if I actually get readers, lol.

Until next time, thanks for stopping by!

~ Miss Nye