A/N

Hey guys! Welcome to my new crossover. I have big plans for this story, so hopefully everything goes as planned. This is more of an introduction that anything.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Vampire Diaries or any of the characters affiliated with them.

Before the Storm

Seven hours. Seven hours of sitting in the same old car, listening to the same old music, next to the same annoying brother. Not that Sam could complain. This was his life, and he was growing to enjoy it. They drove for hours everyday, stopping every now and then for gas or for food. Dean would make a witty remark about fuel for him and his baby or something along those lines. Then they would climb right back in the car and hit the road, not even thinking about looking back. There were a few times when Sam considered where he belonged. He missed being at college, where the worst thing he had to endure was a ten page essay about the history of the microwave oven. This life he lived with his brother was dangerous and overwhelming, but he couldn't help but enjoy it.

There was something about saving people and hunting things that made him feel stronger. It made him feel like he could do something more productive in the world than standing in front of a bunch of people and arguing with them.

Most of all he enjoyed his time with his older brother. Dean hadn't said a word to him for two years while he was in school, which although sometimes was nice, it was lonely. He had felt so cut off from his family, yet he figured they wouldn't want to hear from him. Being able to spend this much time with him was imperative to Sam, especially after they lost their father. They were all each other had.

Today they were headed to a small town in Virginia. Earlier they had been flipping through John's journal and fell upon a page specific to this area which had been dappled with lore about a race of vampires that few hunters knew about. According to his notes, the ones that did know about them and hunted them soon after got killed. It was strange how much was different from that of the usual vampire, the ones that were all but extinct. Sun kills them just as quickly as a machete to the neck. Bullets are useless, as always, unless they're wooden. Vervain was a poison rather than dead man's blood, and they would be easily killed by a stake to the heart. It wasn't normal, what all it said. But deaths in the area were far greater than any the brothers had ever seen. There wasn't a chance that they weren't going to check it out.

"So what do you think?" Dean inquires from the drivers seat. "Maybe some kind of adaptations? What's that theory called... the one where it's like survival of the fittest?"

Sam glances over to his brother with furrowed brows, attempting to decipher what he meant. "Natural selection? Charles Darwin?"

The elder Winchester looked pleased, nodding in agreement with his brother. "Yeah, sure. So, uh... vamps are turned, some develop different traits, those pass it on to the ones they've turned?"

"No, that can't be it," Sam replied with certainty, shaking his head. "Most of these differences should make the vampire weaker. Exposure to sunlight is deadly to this breed while to the other it isn't. Fire kills them, wood kills them, decapitation, removal of the heart, starvation. This race of vampires should have died out a millennium ago."

"Any reports of this breed from other hunters?"

Sam shakes his head again, his focused hues skimming the book curiously. "Bobby hasn't seen anything like 'em. They're smart. A little too smart."

Turning down the music which had been playing, Dean thinks through information that his brother was feeding to him. The creatures described were not ones that he had ever encountered. Sure, they were vampires, but they were different. So much different that he had never even considered them a possibility. A different race of vampires?

"It says here that the race was created by a witch who claimed herself to be the first witch. She was the outcast of the true first coven which practiced in Australia. Her name was Esther Mikaelson. She turned her children into a new breed of vampires to protect them, and ended up creating an even more bloodthirsty race. Each of the 'original vampires' created their own bloodline." Sam skims along the pages, noting the important history of it all and attempting to dig up more about whatever their dad had found.

"Okay, so how did dad know about this?" Dean asks curiously, his green orbs flitting from the road to his brother. "Did he say anything about that?"

Sam studies his father's entries with such intensity that Dean thought for a second that he didn't hear him. He was close to repeating himself when his little brother spoke up, a single digit running along the page as he read. "'August 27, 1993: I received a startling voice mail from McQueen. By the time I got to Mystic Falls it was too late. Heart was ripped from his chest, and the body was drained of blood.'"

"McQueen?" Dean asks as Sam stops reading to skim through meaningless entries.

The younger Winchester replies simply without removing his eyes from the pages. "Tate McQueen. Dad's old hunting buddy. We only met him once, right before dad left to go hunt that wendigo in Forks. I was like nine years old."

Dean just nods, allowing a hand to fall into his lap as he shifts into a more comfortable position. He remembered Tate, alright. He was old enough when it all happened to remember him after being reminded. He was one of his father's best friends. They went on a lot of hunts together and always came back with a victory. John was torn up when he found him dead in Mystic Falls. Dean had forgotten what it looked like to see his father that upset. It was shattering. Eventually, he was able to get over it, but supposedly he had never been able to get over how it all went down. If he even knew how it did.

By his side, Sam leaned forward, suddenly intrigued by his findings. He gently nudges his brother's shoulder before extending the book out to where he could see it for himself. At the bottom of the page was a drawing of a ring, somewhat bulky and accented with a deep blue, the letter D engraved into it. Beside it, John had scribbled a short entry:

'Walks in the sun.'

"Come on, one more round." Damon begged childishly, his lower tier sticking out to form a small pout. In his strong, calloused hands was a pool stick, clutched tightly in his supernatural grip. He leaned into it, his head resting against the tip as he stared longingly at his girlfriend.

Elena couldn't help but laugh, shoving his shoulder playfully prior to putting up her own stick. Usually she would say why not, and play with him for as long as he'd like. But today she was leaning more towards talking with her friends. It had been so long since they had all been gathered at their favorite meeting place, Mystic Grill. It was nice to see everyone together again. As she passed him, she laid a soft kiss to his cheek. "Ask your brother. I'm sure he'd love to play a game with you."

As she rejoined her friends, Stefan got up and made his way over to the pool tables where Damon waiting, immediately launching into a more competitive game of pool. They had been getting along so well lately it was almost criminal. For once they were acting like they were brothers rather than rivals. It was music to Elena's ears to hear them talking as they did, laughing at the jokes the other had made and reminiscing about times that didn't end with bloodbaths. Since Elena was turned, things had been so rough it had seemed like things would never be as they were before the Salvatores. But now, life was anything but difficult. It was the calm after the storm.

While Damon and Stefan were playing pool, Elena sat at a table surrounded by her friends. Bonnie, Caroline, Matt, and Tyler talked as if nothing bad had ever happened to any of them. Like Bonnie wasn't a witch. Like Caroline had never been turned. Like Tyler wasn't a werewolf. Everything was as it used to be. Aside from the idea of Tyler being among them. That part was still different.

Nevertheless, it was almost too perfect. Being able to sit down with friends and talk about anything but impending doom. They didn't have to worry about Klaus or Katherine or hunters knocking down their doors. There was no battle that was waiting to be fought. No sacrifices they had to arrange. Everything was how it ought to be. Discussing bad grades and college professors and gossip like normal kids their age. If only it could always be this way. That would be a life worth living.

But nothing is ever as you wish it could be. This was the calm before the storm.

A/N

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to leave a review letting me know if you liked it or not. I'm actually really excited about this story, so I hope you all are as well.

~ Charlotte.