Supernatural: Bloodlust

A/N: I'm back and I hope you all are looking forward to this next story, where the Winchesters will cross paths with Gordon Walker and face a rather odd problem.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural or Criminal Minds. I just own any and all characters that I just happen create.

CHAPTER ONE: DEAD COWS AND ROLLING HEADS

"And ye shall go out at the breaches, every cow at that which is before her; and ye shall cast them into the palace, saith the Lord."

Amos 4: 3

Red Lodge, Montana…

A young woman was running through a dark forest for her life, being chased by something; she tripped and felled. Getting back up, she kept running until she stopped behind a tree and her pursuer ran past. Several seconds past and she could hear nothing but crickets; relaxing, thinking she was now safe, she carefully stepped out, and a large hook suddenly appeared, and sliced her head off.

Blood splattered the nearby tree while her body remained upright for several seconds before it finally dropped to the ground and the owner of the hook walked away into the night.

Liz Winchester always prided herself in keeping her brothers out of trouble and being able to tell when they were in a huff about something, and she knew that they were hurting and missing their dad just as much as she was, but she didn't know how deep the hurting was in Dean until they went to investigate the strange things going on in Red Lodge, Montana.

After failing to get anything out of the sheriff, the Winchesters went to the morgue at the local hospital to take a look at the latest victim.

Pulling on some white lab coats, they entered the morgue and found the intern on duty; Dean looked at the nametag, which read "J. Manners", and decided to take a calculating risk.

"John."

"Jeff," said Jeff, standing up.

"Jeff," Dean said, recovering quickly from his goof. "I know that. Dr. Dworkin needs to see you in his office right away."

Jeff frowned, confused. "But Dr. Dworkin's on vacation."

"Well, he's back," Dean informed him. And he's pissed, and he's screaming for you, man, so if I were you I would…" he then watched as the intern ran away. "Okay." Chuckling, he grabbed some latex gloves for them. "Hey, those satanists in Florida, they marked their victims, didn't they?"

Sam nodded as they pulled the gloves on and went to the morgue door. "Yeah, reversed pentacle on the forehead."

"Yeah. So much messed up crap happens in Florida," Dean muttered as Sam opened a compartment and wheeled out a corpse, which had a box between its legs. "All right, open it."

Sam shook his head, not wanting to. "You open it."

Dean spared him a glare. "Wuss." He then picked up the box and carried it over to another table and flipped off the lid, grimacing. Both Sam and Liz approached, cringing. "Well, no pentagram."

Sam shook his head, sadly. "Wow. Poor girl."

"Probably didn't even see it coming," Liz agreed, doing her best not to throw up.

"Maybe we should, uh, you know, look in her mouth, see if those wackos stuffed anything down her throat," Dean suggested. "You know, kinda like Moth in Silence of the Lambs."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, here, go ahead." And he shoved the box toward Dean.

Dean shook his head and shoved it back. "No, you go ahead."

Sam frowned. "What?"

""Put the lotion in the basket"," said Dean, confusing his siblings.

Sam scowled. "Right, yeah, I'm the wuss, huh?"

Liz sighed. "Whatever." She shoved them aside, pulled the box toward her; steeling herself, she started poking her fingers into the mouth for a few moments. "Dean, Sam, get me a bucket."

"You find something?" Dean asked.

Liz shook her head, looking ill. "No, I'm going to puke." And quickly removed her hand, when her brothers saw something.

"Wait, lift the lip up again," Dean requested.

Liz gave her twin a scandalized look. "What? You want me to throw up, is that it?"

Dean shook his head. "No, no, no, I think I saw something." Reaching into the box, he pulled back the lip. "What is that, a hole?"

"Looks like it," Sam and Liz both agreed.

Suspecting something, Dean pressed on the gum and a narrow, sharp tooth descended.

Sam raised his eyebrows, surprised. "It's a tooth."

"Sam, Liz, that's a fang," Dean corrected. "Retractable set of vampire fangs, you've got to be kidding me."

Sam sighed. "Well, this changes things."

Dean gave him a scandalized look. "Ya think?"

"Behave you two," said Liz, not thrilled at the prospect of dealing with vampires again.

That night, they pulled up near a local bar, exchanged a look, and then they went around to park.

The Winchesters entered and approached the bar; a black man, named Gordon, sitting at a table and smoking a cigarette, was watching them.

"How's it going?" Dean asked the bartender.

"Living the dream," the bartender responded. "What can I get for you?"

"Three beers, please," Dean requested and the bartender went to retrieve the requested bottles.

"So, we're looking for some people," Sam said casually, resting his arms on the bar.

The bartender nodded, handing them the open bottles. "Sure. Hard to be lonely."

"Yeah. But um, that's not what I meant." Sam pulled out a $50 bill, fingering it, and dropped it on the bar; after a moment, the bartender took it. "Right. So these, these people, they would have moved here about six months ago, probably pretty rowdy, like to drink…"

"Yeah, real night owls, you know?" Dean added, drinking some of his beer. "Sleep all day, party all night."

"And they probably keep to themselves a lot, too," Liz imputed.

"Barker farm got leased out a couple months ago," the bartender informed them. "Real winners. They've been in here a lot - drinkers. Noisy. I've had to 86 them once or twice."

Dean nodded. "Thanks."

They set their half-finished beers on the bar and left; the man who was watching them was gone, a smoldering cigarette left behind. As the Winchesters left, the man watched from behind a big red car, and then stalked them. They went down an alley, and he followed; turning the corner, he realized that he lost sight of them, and turned to leave-

The Winchesters were suddenly there, pinning him to the wall, and Dean had a knife at his throat.

"Smile."

"What?" Gordon asked, confused.

Liz glared at him. "Show us those pearly whites."

"Oh, for the love of - you want to stick that thing someplace else? I'm not a vampire," Gordon groaned, making the three of them frown. "Yeah, that's right. I heard you guys in there."

Sam didn't know whether to trust this guy or not. "What do you know about vampires?" he asked.

"How to kill them," Gordon responded. "Now seriously, bro. That knife's making me itch." Dean cocked his head, and Gordon started to pull away, but both Sam and Liz pinned him harder. "Whoa. Easy there, chachi." Realizing that they still didn't believe him, he slowly brought his right hand to his lip, pulled it back, and revealed normal gums. "See? Fangless. Happy?" Reluctantly, Dean let up. "Now. Who the hell are you?"

At Gordon's car, he pulled out his arsenal, which included a large hook.

"Sam, Liz, and Dean Winchester," he remarked, smiling. "I can't believe it. You know I met your old man once? Hell of a guy. Great hunter. I heard he passed. I'm sorry. It's big shoes. But from what I hear you guys fill 'em. Great trackers, good in a tight spot, and even befriended some feds–"

Dean raised his eyebrows. "You seem to know a lot about our family."

Gordon shrugged. "Word travels fast. You know how hunters talk."

Dean shook his head, which revealed their limited contact with other hunters. "No, we don't, actually."

Gordon was bemused. "I guess there's a lot your dad never told you, huh?"

"So, um, so those two vampires, they were yours, huh?" Sam asked.

Gordon nodded. "Yep. Been here two weeks."

"Did you check out that Barker farm?" Dean inquired.

"It's a bust," Gordon informed them. "Just a bunch of hippie freaks. Though they could kill you with that patchouli smell alone."

Dean and Liz both grimaced at the thought. "Where's the nest, then?"

"I've got this one covered," Gordon said confidently. "Look, don't get me wrong. It's a real pleasure meetin' you fellas. But I've been on this thing over a year. I killed a fang back in Austin, tracked the nest all the way up here. I'll finish it."

"We could help," Liz offered.

Gordon shook his head and shoved his arsenal back into his car. "Thanks, but uh, I'm kind of a go-it-alone type of guy."

"Come on, man, I've been itching for a hunt," Dean pleaded.

"Sorry," Gordon said, refusing the offer. "But hey, I hear there's a Chupacabra two states over. You go ahead and knock yourselves out." He then got in his car. "It was real good meeting you, though. I'll buy you a drink on the flip side." And he drove off.

A man was sitting in the quiet mill, alone; he was dozing when he heard a noise. Standing up, he left his office to do some investigating. He went down to the dock, heard something hit the water, and pulled out a crowbar; just then, a crow flew over his head, startling him. Chuckling, he relaxed, then turned around to find-

Gordon attacking him with a machete! Dodging the attack, the man extended his fangs, revealing himself to be a vampire. They struggled near an electric saw; the vampire turned it on, pinned the hunter down below it, and was going decapitate him-

When both Sam and Liz pulled him to safety; Dean attacked the vampire, got him pinned under the electric saw. He then lowered it, and decapitated him, splattering blood all over his face.

Gordon unsteadily got his feet while Dean turned the saw off and stared at him. "So uh, I guess I gotta buy you that drink."

Meanwhile, both Sam and Liz stared at Dean, stunned, and he just stared back at his siblings with no emotion on his blood-covered face. What was their brother turning into?

A/N: Ah! Sorry, I just scared myself recalling that scene of where we see the darker side of Dean, which he can usually keep bury…well, just until the season premiere of Season 10. If you haven't seen the start of the new season, see it, and decide for yourself. R&R everyone!