Summary----Tag to Bedtime Stories... Sneaking after Sam when he summons the crossroads demon, what will Dean think when he overhears the demon's taunting--"No more desperate, slobby, needy Dean. You can finally be free." Misunderstandings, complications, and drama ensue...

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, Jensen, Jared, or any of the other things affiliated with it. I am simply a fangirl writing a story that has been on my mind...

Chapter 1----Shadows Can Be Decieving

A lamp's golden glow illuminated the dingy motel room just on the outskirts of Maple Springs, New York. A soft, barely audible groan was heard as the occupant of one of the twin queen beds rolled over, hand laying limply over the bright yellow sheets. The man's sandy blond hair was mussed from sleep, bronze skin sweating almost unnoticeably as his brow furrowed, disillusioning any thoughts of a restful sleep.

Staring at his brother for a moment as he sat on the opposite twin bed, Sam Winchester pulled on his well worn black boots, chocolate eyes tearing away from his brother's slumbering form as he tied the shoelaces. Gathering the small, olive hued duffel from the floor, the lanky man hoisted it over his shoulders, stealing a last glance at his brother before he opened the blue-painted door and was swallowed by the night.

At the faint click of the door, the sleeping man's hazel green eyes snapped open. Sitting up, he shakily rubbed at his face, his body trembling as he wiped the thin sheen of sweat off his face. Trying to clear his mind of the last vestiges of the nightmare, Dean blankly stared at his shaking hands as images flashed through his mind. His breathing hitched as he remembered Sam's bright eyes glazed over as Death embraced him. Searching the small room for his brother to reassure himself, Dean's heart skipped a beat when he realized the comforting presence of his brown-haired, geek boy brother was missing.

Flashback

"Yeah, well I'm taking off. I will leave your ass, you hear me?"

"That's what I want you to do!"

"Goodbye Sam."

The closing of the Impala's trunk severed any last words going through Dean's mind. 'Take care of yourself, Sammy. I'm proud of you.' The goodbye was left echoing in Dean's head as he peered into the rearview mirror and watched as Sam's form grew smaller and smaller until finally vanishing as the Impala rumbled down the road.

Flash

"Sam!?!" Dean whirled around the bar's parking lot, desperately searching for his brother.

"Sammy!" Staring into the dark gloom, Dean could hear his blood pumping in his ears as he searched the dark shadows for any sign of his younger brother.

Flash

"Sam? Sammy, where are you?" Dean looked around the chipper motel room, bright blue peeling paint covering the walls. "Sammy?" There was no note, no sign, nothing left behind that suggested his brother was merely out for coffee. Dean glanced at the motel clock; his eyes staring unseeingly at the glaring red numbers, the clock mocking him with the passing minutes as 11:36 turned to 11:37.

Black, demonic eyes stared at him contemptuously as the monster in his brother's body sneered at him, lips curling in disdain as Dean gazed pleadingly back….

Flash

Static crackled across the radio, breaking up Martyn Laight's 'Wrapped Around Your Finger.' Scowling at the radio, Dean froze, his eyes shooting to the windows of the café they had stopped by. Sam! Where was Sam! Opening the door to the Impala with a creak, Dean stepped out and half-ran, half-walked towards the entrance of the building, panic building in his chest, heart in his throat as he reached the door. Opening the door with a cling of the bells, Dean searched the restaurant for his Sammy.

Eyes immediately drawn to the customer who lay, face down, in a puddle of his own thick, crimson blood, Dean pulled his gun out, walking cautiously into the restaurant. "Sam?" Walking forward, he stared at the grotesque sight of the dead customer. 'Poor bastard.' He thought to himself, hoping against all hope he wouldn't find Sammy in the same condition. Passing by the kitchen and stumbling upon the equally gruesome figures of the slaughtered cooks, Dean opened the back door, hunting for any tracks, any clues that might tell him where his baby brother was.

"Sam!" No answer. It was silent, almost as if the world were holding its breath. Closing the door, Dean noticed the powdery yellow residue on his hand. Bringing it up to his nose, the familiar stench caused worry to cloud his hazel-green eyes. "Sulfur." He breathed, heart clenching as he ran back to the Impala, ready to start the hunt for his missing geek boy, pain in the ass little brother.

"SAM!" Looking around the ghost town for the tall beanstalk that was his brother, Dean thought he caught a glimpse of Sam walking toward him. "Sam!" It was him for sure. He lowered his flashlight, relief coloring his weary tone.

"Dean!" Sam called out, and God, was it good to hear his voice, tired and hoarse as it was. Dean's eyes widened in alarm as he saw a dark figure sneaking up behind his brother's back, something held in its hand.

"Sam, look out!" He yelled, wishing, hoping, praying that Sammy would turn around in time. But it was not to be. Dean could only look on in horror as his brother was stabbed in the back, a grimace of pain twisting Sam's face. "NOOO!" Dean leapt forward, running to Sam, the baby he had sworn to protect, the child he had raised, the only best friend he ever had, his strength, his weakness, his brother, his Sammy.

As Sammy fell to the ground, Dean dropped his gun, and he too slid on his knees, fisting his brother's shirt in his hands. "Sam! Oh, Sam. Sam! Hey," He hugged his brother's form against him, reassurances falling from his lips. " Hey, c'mere, c'mere. Lemme look at you." Pressing his hand to his brother's lower back, Dean hissed in a breath at the sticky red substance that now coated his hand. "Hey, look. Look at me." Pulling back Sam's head so he could see his face, Dean murmured to his brother, trying to ignore the life-substance that wet the back of Sammy's jacket. "It's not even that bad. It's not even that bad, alright? Sammy?" His brother's mouth was filled with blood, eyes dazed and barely aware of Dean. Dean swallowed harshly, his Adam's apple bobbing. "SAM! Hey, listen, okay? We're gonna patch you up, okay? You'll be as good as new, huh? I'm gonna take care of you. I'm gonna take care you, I gotcha. It's my job, right? I gotta take care of my pain in the ass little brother." Dean cradled Sam's cheek with one hand, not knowing who he was trying to reassure. "Sam? Sam. Sam! SAMMY! No. Nonononono…." He wouldn't respond. Why wouldn't he respond? Dean hugged his brother to him, rocking back and forth. "Oh God. Oh God." Anguish and heartbreak rent through his tone as Dean's eyes misted over with unshed tears. Cradling his brother's limp form in his arms, Dean closed his eyes, trying to hide from the awful truth that his brother, his baby brother, was dead. "SAMMY!" Dean's yell tore up to the heavens, stopping Bobby in his tracks as he raced after Jake.

End Flashback

"Maybe he just went to the bathroom. He wouldn't have left." Dean murmured, trying vainly to calm his racing heart. "Sammy's here, Sammy's here. Not dead. Not dead." Repeating the mantra over and over, Dean glanced by the door to the room, frantic eyes taking in his own boots laying haphazardly on the floor right next to Sam's…where were Sam's boots?

"Crap Sammy, where'd you go this time?"

Bolting out of bed, amulet swinging around his neck, Dean barely paused to dress before he snatched his boots and ran out the door, forgetting to lock it in his haste. "Dammit Sam, I swear I'm gonna strangle you when I catch up to you…" Dean muttered fiercely beneath his breath as his keen eyes picked out fresh tire marks heading south. Sprinting along the deserted road, Dean could only hope Sam hadn't gotten into any trouble and would be safe and in one piece when he arrived.

The cool night air wrapped around the missing brother as he hunched into the thin protection his jacket offered, trying to find relief from the biting wind that had sprung up. Fingering the newly built Colt in his pocket, Sam turned his attention to his surroundings. He stood directly in the center of the crossroads, the watery silver rays of the full moon giving him enough light to see by. He brushed more dirt over the small mound with his toe, peering out into the night. All was quiet, the chirping of crickets the only sound in the oppressive silence. Sam sighed impatiently, then whirled around at the slight rustling noise behind him. A young woman, a young beautiful woman stood before him, clothed in a slinky black dress that left almost nothing up to the imagination. Her dark, curly locks cascaded around her shoulders, a knowing smile tugging on her lips as her eyes flashed scarlet, then settled back to the natural, chocolate brown color of the woman the demon possessed.

"Well, little Sammy Winchester. I'm touched. I mean, your brother's been to see me twice...but you...I never had the pleasure. What can I do for you, Sam?" The demon's deceptively sweet voice lilted in the air, the glint of her ruby red glowing eyes deceiving any sense of security her innocent smile may have belayed.

Not fooled by her silvery voice or human appearance, Sam pulled out the Colt, bringing the newly made gun up so that the monster stared down the face of the barrel. Tightening his jaw, Sam glared at the demon. "You can beg for your life."

Dean's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of his beloved baby parked a few meters away from a crossroads. 'Sam! You are officially DEAD when I get you! I told you not to do this! My life isn't worth yours, and no matter what you do, I'm going to Hell. It's a fact of life, Sammy. Or death.' Grimly smirking at his own joke, the light hearted attitude disappeared completely as Dean caught sight of Sammy talking to the crossroads demon. "Dammit Sam!" He whispered humorlessly, mind racing as he tried to come up with a plan of attack. Noting the Colt pointed at the demon's grinning face, Dean decided to wait and watch and see how things turned out. Crouching behind a convenient bush, Dean's entire body tensed as he readied himself to spring to his brother's need should things appear to go downhill. Of course, being within earshot of their conversation was required in this situation, and was in fact entirely unrelated to the fact that Dean's natural curiosity was insatiable at times….

But, as the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat. And Dean would most certainly not enjoy this particular conversation…..

Soooooo...what did you think? Tis my first Supernatural fanfic...so please be kind! And PLEASE PLEASE review! bites nails anxiously waiting for reviews...

XOXOX till next chapter! XOXOX