Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural

Takes place sometime in season 4. Sam and Dean are the hardest characters Ive ever tried to write, so I hope it isn't too terrible. Hope you enjoy.

SUPERNATURAL

Blood Brother

THEN

"You hate me that much? You think you could kill your own brother? Then go ahead."

"You don't kill innocent people, you're still a hunter!"

"No, I'm a monster."

NOW

Chapter 1 - Drawing Blood

Dean Winchester answered his phone that Sunday morning, little did the hunter know that this had been the worst mistake of his life. He and Sam were sitting in a quiet little diner enjoying breakfast before getting back on the road when Bobby decided to give them some unwanted information.

"Hello?" Dean answered. "Hey Bobby, how's it going?" The older Winchester was silent as he listened to the other line, Sam curiously waited to hear something. Dean hung his head, and Sam knew something was wrong. "Bobby…not today. I'm on vacation."

Dean handed the phone to Sam on Bobby's request, and so the two brothers were off to do what they did best. Hunt.

Two weeks later…

Two weeks had passed and in this time only a few important things had happened. One, the boys found out what they were hunting. Two, the boys hated Bobby more than ever. And Three, the boys sharpened their machetes.

"How do you wanna play this one, Dean?" Sam asked from the Impala's passenger seat. Dean was driving down the only blacktop road in North Georgia. The Winchester brothers were in the country, complete with hillbillies, pick-up trucks and wilderness.

"I'm thinking we hit some local bars. These vampire freaks love to drink, right?" Dean seemed confident enough.

"Yeah I guess so. Man, there are a lot of bars around here. This might take awhile." Sam scanned the buildings of Cornelia, GA. Half of them were bars, pubs or liquor stores.

"Alright, I'll have a shot of whiskey in every one until we find them. By the end of the night I'll be drunk! You're driving back to the motel, Sammy." Dean was excited now. He hadn't been drunk in…about three days. It was time to relax.

Six bars and ten shots later (Dean had cheated, he couldn't help himself) the hunters finally had a lead. Dean was buzzing happily standing behind Sam. The younger brother had already paid the bartender a handsome sum, and found out that a rowdy crowd of people had come in the bar every night for the past three weeks and stayed out in a cabin a few miles to the south in the middle of the woods. Within minutes the Winchester's were headed that way, Dean riding shotgun hanging his head out the Chevrolet's window.

"Dean. Dean.… Dean!" Sam called out.

"Sammy…not loud so…I'm not a deaf thingy!" Dean mumbled out the words. "Sam…I love ya brotha! Let's go cut Edward's head off!"

"Dean, you're drunk." Sam stated the obvious. He was good at that. "We're going back to the motel. Tomorrow we'll find the nest bright and early. Whoa wait, who's Edward?"

"A…" Dean thought hard for a moment. "Oh, he's is a vampire!" Sam sighed and fought back a laugh. Drunk Dean was always a funny scene, no matter how often Sam had seen it.

The clock ticked second by second in front of Sam's face. The young hunter sat in front of the TV, flipping channels as if he really thought something entertaining might be on at 2:34 A.M. Sam looked over his shoulder, Dean was still passed out, drooling all over himself on his hard bed. Sammy turned back to the TV. Boredom was overtaking him. He couldn't sleep, thinking about the six victims already dead in this little backwoods area.

What would it hurt to go check that cabin out? It's probably nothing anyway. Dean will be fine, he shouldn't be waking up anytime soon. Withthat thought, Sam was out the door and in the Impala speeding away.

Both Sam and Dean had been expertly trained by their father, John, to do some pretty strange stuff. From cleaning guns to a proper way of sneaking, John somehow knew it all and passed his knowledge onto his sons. Sam had never wanted the life of a hunter. And yet, even he couldn't pretend he wasn't great at it.

Sam stepped lightly towards the seemingly empty log cabin. It looked as if no one had lived there for a very long time, almost completely overgrown with plants. But the young hunter held his machete with a firm grip just in case, his senses attuned to his surroundings.

Sam slowly reached the rickety door to the cabin, not a sound to be heard anywhere near him. He readied himself and inhaled a long breath. BAM! The hunter slammed the door open and raced in. Emptiness. It was a one room cabin, nothing more than a dirty bed, a sink and a fire place. Sam really hadn't expected to find anything.

"You can't be here!" Sam whirled and raised his weapon at the surprised voice. Before he could do anything, Sam was trampled by the young vampire and they both went down. They struggled, neither gaining in the fight. Finally the monster took Sam by the throat and smash his head onto the hard floor. Everything went black for Sam….