"Carry On My Wayward Son" plays softly through the speakers of the black '67 Chevy Impala as it roars down the old, deserted highway. Dean, a green-eyed, short-haired sex god, sings along, as his brother, Sam, sleeps in the passenger seat. Dean glances toward his brother, making sure he is asleep. He puts a spoon in Sam's mouth and snaps a photo before turning the music way up. Sam jerks, sitting erect, pulling out his gun. His eyes sweep around the Impala, looking for the source of disruption. He relaxes when he realises Dean had just turned up the music.
"Jerk," Sam growls, pulling the spoon out of his mouth.
"Bitch," Dean replies smirking at Sam's reaction. "So, tell me more about this case. We're about an hour from Buttzville, New Jersey," Dean bursts out laughing. "Ha! That never gets old!"
"You're so immature, Dean. Anyway, we have four people dead. Each of them had called in a report of a hellish-sounding dog barking outside their houses. The neighbors did not hear anything. The bodies were shredded. There were not any signs of breaking and entering. Whatever it is that got them was inside or let in." Sam states, reading over the file.
"It sounds like a hellhound." Dean replies, going over the facts in his head.
"That is what I was thinking, too," Sam mumbles, absorbed in the case file.
"Okay then," Dean cranks up the music, Bon Jovi filling the car.
Once in Buttzville, they find the closest motel. As it turns out 2 of the people murdered were staying in the same motel.
"Okay, Sammy, let's get dressed and go ask some questions. Then, we can find a bite to eat," Dean states, throwing his army green duffle bag on the bed closest to the door.
"Alright, Dean." Sam states, pulling out his suit. The brothers dress and head to the police station.
"Who do I want to be today!?" Dean exclaims, pulling the box of fake ID's out of the glove compartment, "I'm thinking Officer Van Halen; what about you, Sammy?"
"Officer Paul McCartney," Sam states. Dean digs through the box of ID's until he finds the one saying Officer Paul McCartney.
"Alright, let's go, Sammy," Dean steps out of the Impala, pulling on his aviators, hiding his sparkly, green eyes. His dirty blond hair catches the light, causing it to glimmer.
"Let me do the talking, Sammy," Dean states, pulling open the police station door.
"Fine."
"Hello, ma'am, I'm Agent Halen and this is my partener Agent McCartney. We were sent in because of the murders. We would like to talk to the Sheriff." Dean flashes his dazzling, panty-dropping smile at the blond behind the reception desk.
"Oh, the Sheriff is out until next week, but I can give you the file and my number." The blond winks at Dean.
"That would be great!" Dean answers in a sultry voice. He and the blond start flirting.
"Agent Halen, we have things to do," Sam coughs.
"Fine, I'll call you later, sweetcheeks." Dean winks at the blond, causing her to blush. They walk out of the police station without any new evidence.
"Dean, do you even know her name?" Sam asks once they are inside the Impala.
"Damn, I knew I forgot something! Oh well, I will find it out later!" Dean smirks, pulling out of the parking lot in search of a bar.
"What can I get y'all?" The waitress asks.
"A bacon cheeseburger with fries and a beer. Do you guys serve pie?" Dean asks, looking up at the waitress with a cheesy grin.
"Yeah, we do. What kind do ya want? We have cherry, peach, apple, and blueberry."
"Cherry, please." Dean grins.
"Okay and for you, sugar?" The waitress asks Sam, giving him a once over.
"A caesar salad with a beer, please." Sam replies, smirking at Dean.
"Coming right up, sugar." The waitress sways her hips as she walks away. Dean punches Sam in the shoulder.
"Dude, she was so hitting on you!" Dean exclaims when Sam scowls.
"Dude, she so blew you off." Sam retorts.
"Anyway, we need to find out what all of these people had in common. Maybe a place or person." Dean scans the file.
"Yeah sure, you look into it." Sam replies, standing up.
"Where are you going?"
"To talk to that waitress, maybe she knows something?"
"Yeah right. You are just going to flirt."
"Dean, I'm not you."
"Yeah yeah! Go get 'em boy."
Back at the motel, Dean is going through the file and newspaper clippings on the case. When he is about to give up, he finds a lead.
"Bingo." Dean calls Sam.
"Hey, this is Sam. Sorry I missed you. Leave your name and number and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks." Sam's voicemail answers.
"Sam, I found a lead. All of them mysteriously achieved things out of nowhere 3 years ago. I am thinking a cross-roads demon. What I don't get is why the souls are being collected a whole seven years early. When you are done 'bangin' the waitress, hurry back here. We need to find the demon. I think I know who is next." Dean hangs up the phone. He grabs his jacket and keys and heads out of the motel. When he arrives to the bar, no one is there; Sam and the waitress are gone, too.
"Hello, anyone here?" Dean calls out. The lights flicker on. Dean hears a noise. He pulls out his trusty 45 and creeps to the back of the bar where the noise came from. He sees Sam, who is tied up, hanging from the ceiling. He runs over to untie him.
"What in the hell happened, Sam?" Dean asks, cutting the ropes that bind Sam.
"DEAN, BEHIND YOU!" Sam exclaims. Dean swings around to see the waitress with her eyes glowing red. Dean shoots at her.
"Awh, Dean, you should know normal bullets don't work on me." The demon cackles, grabbing Dean around the neck and throwing him across the bar counter. Dean hits the wall with a loud thud. He rolls over and tries to stand. Sam, finally untied, runs over to him.
"Dean, you okay?" Sam asks worried.
"Fine, Sam; where did she go?" Both boys glance around. The red-eyed demon is nowhere to be found.
"I don't see her. She must have left."
"Oh, silly boys, I was just calling my sidekick. Boys, this is Cerberus, guardian of hell." The demon cackles, a giant, 3-headed, bronze beast stands next to her. The beast has the tail of a serpent, a mane of snakes, and lion claws. It growls, razor sharp teeth bared; it lunges at Sam. The beast snarls and takes a chunk of flesh out of Sam's calf. Dean shoots up, readying his gun. He aims at the beast and pulls the trigger. The bullet bounces off the bronze skin of the beast.
"Oh, Dean, guns do not work on Cerberus. Isn't he a beauty? You know he guards hell; he is Hades' snookums." The demon states, amused.
"Call him off!" Dean growls at the demon.
"The only way I will call him off is if you make me a deal."
"Anything, you can have my soul. Just call him off!"
"Oh silly, Winchester, I don't want your soul; I want you!"
"Fine, have me. Just leave Sam alone!"
"Cerberus, down boy! Now, Dean, meet me at 578 Oak at midnight. Come alone or else." The demon disappears.
"Sammy!" Dean drops to his knees, trying to stop the bleeding. The flesh on Sam's calf has been ripped off, he has claw gashes on his stomach, and his arm is chewed up.
"D-Dean." Sam chokes on his own blood.
"Sam, please stay with me." Dean picks Sam up and rushes to the Impala. He puts Sam in the back and rushes to the ER.
"I NEED A DOCTOR, NOW!" Dean yells, panicked. A nurse rushes over, pulling a gurney. Dean lays Sam on it. The nurse rushes off, leaving Dean in the waiting room, covered in his baby brother's blood.
"P-please, Sam, p-pull through. I n-need y-you."
"Relatives of Sam Winchester?" A doctor in a white coat calls. Dean shoots up, rushing over to him.
"Is my brother okay?" Dean rushes. The doctor gives him a pitying look.
"I'm very sorry, sir. We tried everything we could. He was DOA; we managed to start his heart, but he had already lost too much blood. He passed away on the table. If there is anything I can do for you, let me know. Is there anyone I can call?" The doctor rests his hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean shrugs it off, falling on the floor in tears.
"Can we get someone over here to help me?" The doctor calls, "Son, I'm so sorry for your loss. We have councilors you can talk to if you would like. Do you have anyone I can call to come pick you up?" The doctor squats down to Dean's level.
"I-I have n-no one. S-Sam was the only person I had left!" Dean screams, shooting up and out the door. He jumps in the Impala, sparing a glance to the back seat, where not even an hour ago Sam took his last breath. He slams it into drive and rushes to the place the demon told him to meet her. Once there, he rushes to the trunk of the Impala and pulls up the false bottom to reveal a multitude of weaponry. He grabs the Colt, a gun that can kill any supernatural creature, and rushes inside.
"Come out, you son of a bitch! I know you're here!" Dean screams.
"Awh, Dean, I'm sorry; your deal is up." The demon cackles. Dean rushes her, pulling out the Colt only to be stopped by Cerberus.
"You stupid bitch, I'm going to kill you!"
"Dean, sweetie, you're already dead."
"What are you talking about? You're lying!" Dean exclaims.
"Dean, you died earlier. Cerberus claimed your soul. Granted it was a bit early, but it's all over now."
"You're lying. I took Sam to the hospital. You killed him not me."
"Dean, you're dead and Sam is alive."
"No... My time wasn't up!" Dean exclaims. He tries to pull the trigger on the Colt only to realize the Colt wasn't in his hands, his hands were held by hooks, his feet are too.
"Dean, if you had not have been so noble, you would not be here right now. You could be out screwing some girl, but your love for your brother blew that right out of the water; didn't it?" The demon cackles.
"N-no, I can't be dead. I still have time," Dean mumbles.
"No, honey, you don't. Your soul was claimed early. You are stuck here for eternity." The demon cackles, "Cerberus, have fun playing with your dinner."
Cerberus lunges, his claws digging into Dean's leg, as his giant teeth clamp around Dean's ribs. The beast rips and tears, pulling flesh from the bone, tearing liguments and tendons until there is nothing left of the Dean Winchester we once knew. The man died as hero. He saved his baby brother's life on multiple occasions, he saved the world multiple times. But, sometimes even the best people just don't make it; not even heros.
