This is a re-write of the fanfiction "Land of Entrapment"! This is a case fic, so if that's not your thing... at any rate, thank you for checking out this story! I hope you enjoy it, and just as a heads up, the action *really* starts in around... chapter five? This is pre-written and already finished, so there's no worry about it being left hanging. This is set after John died.

"We can't die because we're young,
At least that's what we heard in a song...
Fire, fire fire!"

Fire, Flyleaf

Sam walked out of the public bathroom, every inch of his skin feeling dirtier than it had when he had gone in only moments before. Of course, gas station restrooms tended to have that effect, he had found. He was surprised just how easy it was to fall right back into the odd routines that involved navigating and putting up with grimy motels and shady stores. The man took note of everyone wandering nearby him, and of the exits, before he stepped into one of the aisles. Their father had died only months ago, and things had been... Off ever since then. He could see Dean healing, (Although his brother would shy away from that discussion) but it was still a relief to see. He wanted his brother and partner, and with all of the crap involving the visions and psychics, he needed the seemingly unchangeable presence now more than ever. But Dean was still grieving, and everything else, to some degree, Sam had put on a mental back-burner.

A buzzing in his pocket pulled his thoughts into the present. He struggled to pull the phone from his jeans and then answered it, holding it up to his ear. He didn't say anything, he waited for the voice on the other end to speak first.

"I got a job for you boys, if you ain't too busy."

It was strange to him, people usually contacted Dean first, especially after Stanford. Even Bobby.

"Hey Bobby. What's the job?"

He gave a sweet smile to a woman who was ogling him from the other side of the aisle, discomfort settling in his chest and turning the smile into a grimace of sorts. He then promptly turned his back to her, walking around to the next area, hoping to lose his wide-eyed tail. She was peaking over the top of the aisle now. Sam winced inwardly and crouched, effectively ducking out of sight and pretending that he found a very interesting object on the bottom shelf, at the same time praying to God that his brother didn't find him like this.

"Looks like hunters are goin' missin' - you boys still in Arizona?"

"New Mexico now."

"Good, that's where you need to be. Remember Ward?"

"Yeah," Sam replied, standing up and hurrying to his right when the blond woman went from peeking over the aisle to careening around its corner, eyes searching.

"They found his body. Or what was left of it."

"What happened to him?"

"Dunno, but he was as good 'n crispy when whatever had him was through."

Sam cursed, a sound under his breath. The woman was still following him. He hunched down, ducking low enough as he zigzagged through the large, fancy shop, ducking behind aisles.

Dean strode around the aisle just then, one eyebrow raised at Sam's attempts to lose the woman. "Sam...?" Dean glanced past him at the woman. "You don't run from..." He leaned closer and lowered his voice, "...beautiful women. This is why you never..." he paused, seeming to just notice that Sam was on the phone. He mouthed, "who is it" and waited.

Sam moved the phone from his mouth, "Bobby. Hunters are going missing."

"You still there, Sam? They started disappearing all over New Mexico, you can research the cases, nobody's bein' shy about the deaths."

"Have you found out what's been doing this?"

"No, ya idjit, that's why I called you."

Sam huffed a laugh. "Okay, we're on it."

"Good. Be careful." With that, Bobby hung up, and Sam put the cell back into his pocket.

"Okay, so, hunters going missing. We thinking some kind of demon?" As Dean asked, he shuffled around Sam and angled away from the woman, not interested in her hearing THIS conversation.

"Yeah, maybe." Sam looked troubled. "But there haven't been any signs, no cattle deaths, nothing."

"Huh..." Dean nodded slowly. "Could be they're lying low."

Sam frowned slightly, putting his hands in his pockets. He was about to say something, then stopped, bustling past his brother, putting a hand briefly on Dean's shoulder as he moved towards the station's main entrance. He pushed through the doors and stepped just outside, buying one of the newspapers from a nearby machine. He unfolded the paper, skimming the headlines. He flipped to the next page; in bold letters it read, 'Bizarre Deaths and Gruesome Medieval Killings'.

It wasn't long before Dean followed Sam out. He carried a bag full of "supplies" and halted behind Sam, looking over his shoulder. "Medieval, huh? How so?"

"Pyres. Bobby mentioned something about burned bodies. Remember that guy Dad knew, Ward? He was one of the victims."

Dean frowned. "So, not demons then. That's not really their MO. Victims are all hunters?" Dean gazed at the newspaper, but his attention wasn't focused on it. Thoughts stirred as he considered the possibilities. "Could be a witch's ghost maybe? Someone hunters killed back in the... dark ages or something?" Dean shrugged. That was just a guess; they would have to research... Inwardly, Dean groaned at the idea.

Sam's lips tugged down and his eyebrows raised, completing the strange expression as he nodded. He folded up the paper again. "Motel?"

"Okay, sounds good. I'm gonna call Ash... have him double check for signs." They hadn't heard anything from yellow-eyes in a disturbingly long time. It didn't sit well with Dean.

Walking forward, Dean led the way back to the Impala, parked at the far side of the gas-station. He glanced back once to ensure Sam was following.

Sam stopped by the passenger side, bringing one arm up and resting it on the top of the Impala. He looked over the roof towards his sibling, debating inwardly if he should bring up the subject or leave it be - again. He argued with himself for a time, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. "You alright, Dean?"

Dean - already halfway in the car - paused and shot Sam a glare. "You keep asking me that like my answer's gonna change. Yes, Sam, I'm fine." He dropped into the car and pulled the door shut after himself, impatiently waving for Sam to do the same.

Dean started the car and pulled out onto the main road. Moriarty New Mexico was a small town. Finding a place to stay a few nights should be easy. "The other hunters; what brought them here? Has it-whatever it is-only taken hunters?"

"I don't know," Sam popped the 't', "Bobby didn't say. He probably didn't know, either."

"Okay... research then." As an afterthought, Dean tacked on, "Hope they have a library here."

"Or free wifi," Sam added.

Dean laughed. "Yeah, really."

Wordlessly, Sam moved forward, choosing a cassette and putting it in; it wasn't something he usually did. He leaned back and let his hands rest on his legs, avoiding the sun burning his eyes. Hopefully there was actually a motel here in the armpit of New Mexico.

Comments, questions, snide remarks?