(A/N: Hi everyone. This is my first fanfiction and I'm a little nervous about posting my stuff. Any people who are reading this story share my passion for this amazing TV show. Anyways, let's get on with the show. Just to let you know, Jo is a main part of this story because I actually like Alona Tal's character.)

"We've got work to do," He muttered as he tossed his well abused shotgun into the trunk of the impala and closing the truck. Dean turned around and casually leaned back on his precious car. He glanced over to Sam, who was smirking at him, "What?"

"Bitch"

"Jerk," Dean replied, now smiling at his little brother. Suddenly, Dean punched him in the shoulder and Sam cringed at the new pain coursing his well battered body.

"Hey, what the hell, Dean, that hurt" Sam said rubbing the tender area.

"That," Dean laughed, "is because you have to stop getting yourself killed. Really, I'm not going to drag your ass from the dead a second time. I can't keep on making out with these demons."

He turned around and looked over the graveyard, leaning against the truck of the car. It had been a long journey to get to this point, the demon was finally dead. But he knew that this fight was far from over, the amount of spirits and demons that poured out from that gateway overwhelmed Dean; yet, he kept thinking back to when they saw his father distract the demon. He was really there, Dean thought, but what has he become. Do I have to hunt him down? He turned back to see Sam talking to Ellen and Bobby.

"We're gonna have to find a safe place, somewhere to lay low before we start hunting these damn things. I doubt my place survived, Ellen's roadhouse got burned down, so now what?" Bobby stated, fidgeting with his hat.

"Honestly Bobby, I don't know, we- "

"We should go back to the Roadhouse," Ellen blurted out, "I got to know who died; I can't just leave it behind." She looked away, not able to meet anyone's eyes. Sam put an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into his tall frame.

"I'm so sorry Ellen, but who knows what been gathering there after you guys left. It's too dangerous."

"No, I can't stay away. I don't give a damn about what's there; I'll kill it. What if some of the boys went back, what if Jo is back there and she doesn't know if I'm alive. I have to go back."

Dean had been listening to the last few lines, saying nothing. Sam looked at him, trying to get his brother to help him out. Ellen looked on the verge of tears and Bobby started pacing awkwardly.

"I agree with Ellen, we got to start hunting somewhere, might as well start salvaging some stuff."

Sam was surprised by his brother's answer, but didn't argue. He sighed, "Alright then, the roadhouse it is. Bobby, you'll drive Ellen and you two can follow Dean in the Impala." Sam moved around the car to the passenger seat and slung it forward in order to step inside, Bobby helped Ellen into his truck, taking the front passenger seat while Dean revved up the Impala.

Dean took one more look at the graveyard, the only things left from the fight were some scorch marks and the body of Jake and the Yellow Eyed Demon. He turned away, got in the car and revved the engine, speeding away with the dust trailing behind them.

2 Days Ago

Jo Harvelle was alone in the dank bar, closing up for the night. This was the 5th bar she had worked in the last 2 weeks. The nights had been long but uneventful, at best, she would get to kick out a couple of drunken brawlers; yet, Jo's patience wore thin with the comments she got from the men. Tonight was no different, however, she had been more conscious of her surroundings, ever since Sam walked in and attempted to torture her. She definitely had a wakeup call about hunting. She never really understood the sacrifices those drifters made while she served them at the roadhouse The other difference Jo was noticing these days was that there were no supernatural occurrences anywhere. Something big was going to happen, but had no clue how to defend against it. She wiped off the tables as her manager stepped into the parlour area.

"Good haul tonight," he said, nodding towards Jo, "you seem to bring in

some good business."

Jo smirked, "Yeah, well as long as they keep using their hands to hold beer

instead of touching me, I'm glad." At that her boss laughed.

"You do tend to be blunt, lil' missy"

"It's my nature, simply, my way or the highway," he smiled, "Cliché,

I know."

"Well, I'll be off, but before I go, here's your tip, you deserve it." He slapped a couple of bills on the main bar and walked out. Jo turned to the jukebox and selected a song to pass the time.Jo just finished wiping down the bar when she noticed the buzzing of her cell phone, lying on the opposite side of the counter.

"Hello?" No noise was heard from the receiver. Jo tried again, "Hello, who is this?"

Suddenly, a loud crackling noise emitted from the phone, causing Jo to flinch. She quickly moved her ear back to the receiver to listen.

"Who is this?" she asked again

"Baby…it's m-….need he-….demon ….roadhouse in quickly.." The line went dead. It took Jo a few moments to register what she had just heard. She quickly swiped the cash off the table, picked up her bag and ran for the door leading to the back parking lot and her used car. She got into her used Ford pick-up and started the engine, tossing her stuff in the passenger seat. She paused, her emotions churning, and turned to look back, quickly reversing.

"I'll save you, Mom."

2 weeks ago

The fireworks exploded across the sky, illuminating the by-standers around me. They were all so entertained by such a trivial thing; a spark of fire – a mixture of chemicals – just cheap thrills. And yet, thinking back to my last hunt, fire may easily become the spark to great chaos. Max strode back over to me with some rapidly melting ice cream and a genuine smile on his face.

"I am the almighty bringer of food; bow to my will," he smirked as I masked my thoughts with a withering glare. He immediately offered the chocolate cone, all the while slurping up the melting remains of his vanilla one. Max, my mentor and good friend, was always a great mystery to me. He was a bulky, but very able man who looked to be reaching his 60s, with greying hair, a kind face, and a broad nose and mouth, making him look permanently content. On top of that, he always wore a tweed suit in various colours, causing him stand out like a sore thumb; basically the equivalent of waving his hands shouting 'Hey, look at me, I'm British!'

However, just when I thought I had him figured out, he showed a new facet of his ever changing personality to me, and I would be stumped again.

He eyed me closely, finishing his cone. "Don't be so tense Alex. Enjoy the fireworks and be happy, it's all over. You saved the day and survived in the process," he stated between mouthfuls.

I looked over to see him admiring the fireworks. For once, I agreed and relaxed in the enjoyment of exploding starbursts of colours and noises. I stood there, finally calm. Turning to Max, I found him staring at me with a surprised face, his mouth agape.

"What's wrong Max, are you so surprised that I'm actually relaxing?" I smirked.

My smirk immediately faded as he crumpled onto the field. I rushed over to his twitching form. Ripping open his trench, I found the source of his collapse. A hand print was burning into his shirt, hissing as it grew stronger in colour and shape – something was sucking the life out of him. A flailed my arms around his body, trying to get rid of the essence around him. I turned to scream for help but a hand on my shoulder silenced me.

"Don't, it's useless Ally, I'm gone," he rasped, he loved to call me Ally. He was quickly gasping for air. "I'm so sorry."

Max spluttered and desperately grabbed onto my forearms, as if some force might wrench me from him.

"No, no, no, NO. Max, you are not allowed to die. I need you. I can't do this alone. No, NO," I repeated it like a mantra, tears streaming down my face, hoping to change the situation.

He died there in my arms, along with my ability to feel. Numb and alone, I realized it was far from over. If they wanted a war, they got one. I will seek revenge.