Author's Note:

Hi guys! So this is The Devil You Know: Reloaded. I've been stuck on the sequel (Clap Your Hands if You Believe) because of the plot holes in the original story. For the last couple of days I've been going back and revamping the story. I don't quite want to delete the original until I've completed this draft (Edit: Just reread the guidelines for posting stories and apparently you can't post multiple drafts of a story. I'll be deleting the original draft soon). But this is a final draft of the first installment of this series. For first time readers, the prologue takes place a few weeks after Sam & Dean's run-in with Lenore and her nest in episode 2x03 and the night of the Great Revelation. I plan to have the actual story occur during season four of Supernatural and season one of True Blood. I want to stay true to the characters and the plot as much as possible so please, review! Without further a due, I present The Devil You Know: Reloaded.

Prologue:

It had been over a month since their father had died, and Sam and Dean still had no leads on the Colt or the Yellow-Eyed Demon. In the mean time, they took whatever job they could find. They had just finished up a hunt in Indiana for Ellen, the usual vengeful spirit laid to rest with a simple salt and burn. Only this time they made the mistake of digging up a grave in broad daylight. The brothers decided to get the hell out of dodge, just in case anyone witnessed it.

Sam looked over at his brother, who was barreling down the interstate well above the speed limit. As usual, the music was too loud, and they'd been listening to the same Black Sabbath cassette for over four hours. Sam could tell his brother was preoccupied, his jaw clenched, his grip on the steering wheel so tight he could see his knuckles were white when a passing truck's headlights shined through the Impala. He contemplated asking Dean to confide in him again, the way he did alongside the road in Illinois. But he knew his brother, and he was too tired to start another argument. Sam glanced down at his watch; it was just after ten o'clock. They'd been driving for almost nine hours.

"We should probably stop and rest for the night," Sam suggested through a yawn.

"Fine, I'll turn down the music so you can take a nap, Nancy," Dean retorted as he reached for the volume. "I'm making good time, we could get to Iowa by morning."

"What the hell is in Iowa?" Sam inquired, annoyed.

Dean grabbed a newspaper from the back seat and threw it at Sam, eyes still on the road. "Looks like there's a job just outside of Des Moines. Five men died in an animal attack in the last two weeks, all missing their hearts. Sounds like our kinda thing. The lunar cycle fits," he looked over at Sam, "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

"I'm thinking we've been hunting non-stop for weeks now, Dean," Sam mused as he scanned the article by flashlight. "And you're hanging on by a thread."

Dean shot his brother a warning glare, "For the last time, I'm fine," he forced through gritted teeth.

Obviously, Sam wanted to say. He was too worn out to start another argument with Dean. He tossed the newspaper in the backseat. "Look," he sighed, exhausted, "All I'm saying is we could benefit from a few hours of sleep and… a shower for that matter. We can hit the road first thing in the morning."

Dean's expression softened. He looked over at his little, well younger, brother. He noticed the weary look on Sam's face, the dark semi-circles forming underneath his eyes. He had to stop for the night. Hunting was important, but his number one job was looking after Sammy. "I saw a sign for a motel about ten miles back, it should be right off the next exit," he admitted.

Dean called dibs on the shower as they entered the motel room, throwing his duffle bag on the nearest bed. Sam flopped his long, tired body on the other bed while his older brother gathered clean clothes and toiletries. Sam didn't want to fall asleep before a shower, so he reached for the remote on the nightstand and turned on the television.

"If you hurry, Sammy, you can catch Casa Erotica, on Pay-Per-View while I'm gone," Dean teased as he threw a towel over his shoulder and made his way to the bathroom.

"Funny," Sam replied, as he channel surfed. As usual, late night TV had little to offer. He watched a few minutes of an old Van Damme movie on TNT before he settled for the eleven o'clock news. Sam's body tensed as he sat straight up in bed reading tonight's top story. Across the bottom of the television screen in bold, capital letters, "Vampires Exist: Creatures of the Night Come Out of the Coffin."

"Dean!" Sam bellowed. Dean flung open the bathroom door, struggling to keep his towel around his waist. His brows furrowed as he looked at his younger brother worried. Sam's eyes were glued to the television screen, his mouth agape.

"What is it, Sammy?" Dean asked, his eyes fixed on Sam.

Sam didn't reply. His eyes remained on the screen as he slowly raised his arm to turn up the volume with the remote. Dean turned his head towards the TV.

A very attractive blonde woman sat behind a desk alongside a male news anchor, giving him a warm smile as he asked her a question. She turned to the camera, and for a second the brothers were certain she had broken the fourth wall and was staring directly at them as she spoke.

"The public has nothing to fear from vampires. Some of the world's top scientists have been working in concert with my kind to create a synthetic blood product that will provide us with all of our nutritional needs. We no longer have to feed from humans. We just want to be able to live freely and have the same rights and privileges as you do."

"Son of a bitch," Dean uttered, he walked across the room and sat on his own bed, his eyes never leaving the screen.

Sam finally tore his eyes away from the TV looking at his brother, "C'mon, I mean didn't you expect something like this to happen? You remember what Lenore said. We were pushing her kind to the brink of extinction, it was only a matter of time before they'd find a way for us to coexist."

"Look," Dean began with a sigh, "I understand that not all vampires are bad, but c'mon Sam? You expect all of them to just give up the real thing for some stuff made in a science lab?"

"I'm not saying that we don't take this with a big fat grain of salt—" Sam started.

"Well then what are you saying," he quizzed, looking at Sam, expectantly.

"I don't know," he admitted, shaking his head. "I mean, they outted themselves because they're tired of hiding. Hell, maybe this could be a good thing."

Sam's gaze returned to the television, the reporter was now asking the blonde about crucifixes, holy water and other myths about vampires. Of course, the Winchesters knew a crucifix would do nothing to stop a vampire. There were a few ways to kill them, but the only surefire way their dad taught them was a wooden stake, right through the heart. That is if you were lucky enough to get close enough to stake one. Vampires were the perfect killing machines, and the older they got the harder they were to kill. Even when they were searching for the Colt with dad, the oldest vampire in that coven was barely two hundred years old. During the day they were helpless, of course., but it didn't matter how good of a hunter you were after dark. Taking on an ancient vampire alone at night was suicide. Sam suspected that's what probably troubled Dean the most. There weren't enough hunters in the world to take on something like this, not even with a hundred Colts. Silver could slow then down, but the older ones could hypnotize people. They'd heard plenty of hunters tell tall tales about vampires who were hundreds, even thousands, of years old. Sam and Dean had never encountered them, and didn't really want to. Now it seemed unavoidable. If vampires were outing themselves to society, what did this mean for other supernatural creatures… or hunters?

Dean stood up and started towards the bathroom. "I know one thing's certain," Sam began looking up at his brother. Dean stopped and looked across the room at Sam, one eyebrow raised intrigued, "This changes everything."