This was my first attempt at writing a "creature" story. It is set prior to demon-Sam or deals, in other words, season one! It evolves into some Dean hurt/angst, but of course angst for Dean creates angst for Sam, right? Reviews are thoroughly enjoyed and appreciated! Chapter one is filled with a lot of set-up, so bare with me?

Bonners Ferry, Idaho

The picture slipped into the hearth and came to rest on the bed of embers. Hans Bercht gulped and glanced over his shoulder. "There's no way this is happening."

He studied the picture as the corners turned brown and then burst into yellow and orange flames. The picture began to curl in on itself and the flames continued to lap their way across the faces. The embers made the most of their final treat of the night and in the next second, the picture flattened out. For a fraction of a second it looked like the original, only blackened. Then it disintegrated to become one with the dying embers.

He sighed with relief and turned to face the stairway which would lead him to his wife. He knew she'd never understand. She would never forgive him. His feet felt like lead as he made his way across the room.

He checked the locks on the door and again paused. The whole situation weighed heavily on his heart. He shivered as he turned, but not from cold. He looked back into the living room and studied the fire. The embers continued to die, but the heat they emitted seemed to have grown.

He looked over to the silk fichus tree under the heat vent, assuming the furnace had kicked in. The plant leaves remained still. From the corner of his eye, he sensed movement in the room and looked back to the fireplace.

"What the hell? Where? How did you get in here? Who the hell are you?"

The figure in the shadows of his living room drifted closer. The man backed away, the hairs on the back of his neck crept upward. He wanted to scream but his nerves and the sudden onslaught of heat in the room created only a small yelp. There was no way his wife would hear him and call for help.

Hwy 2, Montana / Idaho Border

"Why winter?" Dean growled as he navigated his beloved Impala along the deserted highway. "Look how empty this road is. NO ONE wants to come out here this time of year."

Sam rolled his eyes, but otherwise continued to ignore his brother's typical rant. He was rereading the articles he'd clipped for the umpteenth time.

Dean lapsed in to silence when he got no response from his brother, but it didn't last long. "So, we'll be there soon. Where to first?"

To anyone watching, it would appear Sam wasn't paying attention, but there was always a part of Sam Winchester's mind focused on his brother's needs. "I dunno. I suppose we can start with a hotel. Set up a base, get a feel for the town and then decide the best course of action."

"Why not just head to the police station and get reports?" Dean mused.

Sam scowled. "Dean, we don't know how long we'll be in town. We can't pretend to be something we're not if we have to be here for any length of time. This is a small town. There's not even 3000 residents."

Dean pouted. "You have to admit, it is easier."

"Sure, Dean. Whatever."

Dean followed the signs as the highway turned into 95. It appeared to be the main drag through town. He spied a hotel sign and pointed to it. "Looks as good as anything."

Sam nodded and folded the papers he'd been studying.

The Kootenai Valley Motel got its name from the river running across the north end of town, which in turn got its name from a local tribe. Despite the snow and cold of the late January day, Sam thought the area was beautiful. There was something peaceful and tranquil about snow. Sam's heart was immediately attracted to it.

It wasn't the kind of city that made national headlines. It was known for lumber throughout most of its existence, but in the late 80's the Anheuser-Busch company opened a large hops farm which brought about an economic boom for the area.

"Some boom-town." Sam muttered as they entered the motel office.

Dean raised an eyebrow in his younger brother's direction, but Sam waved him off and went to the rack of local publications as Dean secured a room.

As they completed the check-in, the older woman behind the counter could hold her tongue no more. "So, what brings you two this far north in January? The ski-resorts 

are further south."

Dean smiled and gestured over his shoulder. "My brother and I… We just like wandering. Tourist traps aren't our thing."

She nodded politely, but it was obvious she doubted the story.

Sam joined the group, holding out the local paper. "Can we borrow this? I'd like to read up on the town." He smiled brightly. "It's the only real way to get a feel for the place."

Dean would have groaned. It never failed. The minute Sam smiled it brought out a deadly combination of dimples and his puppy dog brown eyes. It annoyed him to think of all the missed opportunities Sam had. No woman could resist. It was a good thing too, since he wasn't charming like his older brother.

The clerk was no different. "Sure. It's from this weekend though."

Sam nodded. "No problem. Thanks."

"Enjoy your stay!" She called after them as the boys left the office.

Dean was still shaking his head. His brother was oblivious to the effect he had on people and it annoyed him. Oh sure, Sam knew he had a 'way' with people his brother didn't, but Sam assumed it was because Dean tended to be blunt. Sam thought it was all about his approach. He had no clue about his puppy-dog eyes or dimples.

Many times in life, it made Dean want to puke. Every now and again it was helpful.

"So, what did you find?" Dean asked as he pushed the door to their room open. It was a standard issue room, neutral in every way. It was boring compared to many of the rooms they'd rented. It seemed this town contained practical people.

"Nothing yet." Sam dropped his bag on the bed furthest from the door and sank onto the edge in order to read. "Hans Bercht, local attorney's body was found burned to a crisp in his living room."

Dean stretched out on his bed, hands behind his head. "So how does this make it our kind of case?"

"Because nothing else in the house burned." Sam looked up to see Dean's reaction.

Dean shook his head. "I thought you said the body was charred to a crisp."

Sam nodded. "They had to id him with dental records."

"So how could nothing else have burned?"

Sam smiled. "That's why it's our kind of case."

Dean shook his head, this time from disbelief. "Nope… It still doesn't make it our kind of case. Someone could have just thrown him in there after burning him somewhere else."

Sam grinned a bit wider. "It's the third case this year."

Dean considered this new piece of information. "I don't suppose the deaths are related?"

Sam shook his head.

Dean pursed his lips while he considered his next step. "Three in THIS year?"

Sam nodded.

Dean sighed. "So… Anything in dad's journal about a monster due back this year?" He knew the answer already, but he liked to pick on his brother.

Sam rolled his eyes and slid back onto the bed. He assembled all the papers around him and scanned it all quickly.

Dean closed his eyes and snoozed until his brother had somewhere to start. It was handy to have a research geek, especially one who enjoyed it.

"Reporters." Sam said suddenly aloud.

Dean was just drifting off to a deeper sleep, filled with images of ski-bunnies, when Sam's voice forced his eyes open. He blinked a few times. "What?"

"I think we need to go in as reporters." He hesitated and then added. "Or insurance investigators I suppose. We could claim to be withholding payment due to the suspicious nature of the death."

Dean pulled himself up to a sitting position and stretched his arms out. "So, we suit up and pay a visit to the grieving widow?"

Sam stared at Dean, stunned to find he accepted the plan so easily. "That's it?"

"What?" Dean demanded, reading Sam like a book.

"You are going to have to put on your suit and you're not complaining?"

Dean ginned. "It's so easy to play with your head, Sammy."

Sam groaned and pulled his wrinkled suit from his bag. He had to get it straightened out.

Bercht Residence, Tannenbaum Circle, Bonners Ferry, Idaho

"What if she asks for a card?" Sam asked. It was a frequent routine for them. They always practiced their stories before entering the situation. If something came up once they were in the midst of an act, they had a set pattern of fall back lines.

Dean pulled at his collar. "I left them at the hotel. We can drop one by later."

Sam frowned. "Assuming we can drag out the name of her company before then."

Dean grinned confidently. "Sam, it's not like we haven't done this before. I am a master."

Sam pointed to the doorbell. "Proceed Obi-Wan. Use the force."

Dean scowled. "Don't make me go darkside on your ass, Sam." He reached over and pressed the button, shoving Sam in the process.

A woman came to the door almost immediately. She seemed startled at their appearance. A man stood behind her and it appeared as if they'd been on their way out. "Oh, I'm sorry. We were…"

Sam smiled. "No worries. We don't mean to interrupt."

The gentleman in the hall coughed. "I think I have everything I need to go ahead with the claim, Mrs. Bercht. I'm sure we can square things away promptly."

Dean and Sam exchanged quick glances, immediately going to plan B.

The insurance agent step by them and Mrs. Bercht stood in the doorway, waiting for an introduction.

Sam coughed. "Ah, um… Mrs. Bercht, I know this may sound strange, but we'd like to ask you a few questions about your husband's death."

"But the other officers said they were through." She proclaimed, with an edge of panic in her voice.

A quick glance to Sam proved to Dean that his brother was about to launch into the truth. He knew that couldn't happen. "Ma'am, we are sorry to disturb you, but in light of the other cases, around town, they've assigned us to the case. I know you've given your statement, but it's always better if we can hear things for ourselves."

Sam swallowed and nodded, complying with his brother's story. Inside, he was grinning at how much quickly Dean could switch to sounding sincere.

Marion Bercht sighed and stepped back, gesturing the Winchesters into her home. Sam felt a pang of guilt. It was obvious the woman was tired or she would have thought to ask them for id.

"Thank you, Ma'am." Sam said sheepishly as he stepped over the threshold. "We won't take much of your time."

As soon as introductions were over and they were seated with cups of coffee at the dining room table, Sam took the lead. "Can you tell us about that night?"

She closed her eyes, as if reliving the night and then began, while her eyes were still closed. "It seemed so normal. He came home a bit late. He was tired, but I'd held dinner. He said he had a bit more work to do, so he went into the den and I eventually headed off to bed."

Dean interrupted her. "You didn't talk to him after he went into the den?"

She offered a half-hearted smile. "I stopped in to see how long he would be and say good night."

"When did you… did you notice something wrong?" Sam didn't like hurting the woman further. His brain fought to determine the key pieces of information they would need.

"You mean when did I find his body?" She took a deep drink from her own mug and then picked at the napkin on her lap. "I don't think I'll ever forget that sight." She gulped and glanced over to the room beyond them that was closed off. "I'm sure I'll sell the house once everything is settled. I can't bear to even open the door to the room."

Sam knew they were losing her. "So you found the body in the living room?"

"I found a charred corpse which was later revealed to be my husband." There was a hint of anger in her voice.

Sam swallowed and glanced to Dean, who jumped onto the questioning. "Did your husband have any enemies? Anyone who might have tried to kill him?"

Tears now flowed from her eyes. "Enemies? In this town? His family came here from Germany a hundred years ago. He's the only lawyer in town. No one hated him enough to do this." She paused. "You think someone killed him?"

Her question surprised both brothers. Sam recovered first. "Did someone else suggest otherwise?"

She wiped at her tears with her napkin. "Maybe that's why they called you in? You're not from around here. You have fresh minds? Tom, that's the sheriff, he figured Hans' clothes caught an ember from the fire. He always put it to bed before coming upstairs."

Dean's eyes narrowed. He hated closed minded people like this Sheriff Tom. They wouldn't see the truth if it bit them in the ass. "You're awfully lucky the entire house didn't catch on fire then."

She nodded.

"Were there any new cases your husband was working on?" Sam asked softly, hoping to wrap up the interview.

She shook her head. "He never risked talking about work. We may have several thousand people here in Bonners Ferry, but it's got the feel of a small town. Everyone knows everyone else. It was easier if he kept his work to himself."

Dean smiled. "Makes a lot of sense."

Bercht Law Office, Downtown Bonners Ferry

Gina Holger ignored the tears that rolled down her face as she ripped through the files on her late employer's desk.

She couldn't believe this was happening. Three weeks ago she was thrilled to discover the evidence of their relationship was growing inside her. Two weeks ago she'd confronted Hans. She'd assumed he'd be thrilled. Marion hadn't been able to provide him with a child, but she could and would.

She hadn't expected him to deny it. He refused to believe he was the father. He claimed he'd had a vasectomy. He said he'd see her run out of town if she made her accusations public.

That night, she'd confronted him with evidence. A photo. well, a copy of the photo. Thank goodness for digital cameras. The original file was stored in a safe place on her computer. He'd grabbed the photo and left her in his office.

The cramping began later that night.

She lost the baby in the wee hours of the morning, only to receive a phone call from Marion a few hours later.

The entire experience left her with a bad taste in her mouth. She had no time to grieve either loss. Now she was in charge of cleaning up the office. Wasn't she the lucky one?

She moved one final stack and decided to give up for the night. It was too big a job. She sank into Hans' chair and rested her hand on her empty belly. She felt both losses keenly.

She stretched out and grabbed her purse. From inside, she withdrew a copy of the same picture she'd presented Hans as evidence. It showed them both curled up on her bed. 'Afternoon delight,' that's what Hans' had called it.

Tears flooded her eyes and she tossed the picture onto his desk. She stared at it and anger grew in her heart with each passing moment. Digging through the desk draw, she snatched a pack of matches. Holding the picture between two fingers, she struck a match and lit the corner on fire.

As the flames caught on, she dumped over his metal waste basket and emptied it with her foot and open hand. As the flames neared her finger tips, she dropped the picture into the basket and watched it burn away.

As soon as she was sure the picture was cold ashes, she ran from the room. She was just about to leave the outer office, but recalled her purse. She stomped her foot and debated leaving it until morning. She decided with the luck she was having, she'd need it. She turned to go back and retrieve it.

Her feet froze to the floor as she watched it rise from the can. It was dark in the room, but she couldn't take her eyes from the image before her. It was tall, and appendages seemed to come from all over its body.

She wanted to run. She wanted to scream, but she could do neither.

It neared her and as it came closer, it passed through the moonlight of a window.

Its body was black and its eyes were red. As its mouth opened, fiery tongues protruded. One of the appendages, in the shape of an arm, reached out to her, flames erupting from the fingerlike shapes.