Summary: Dean and Sam have set out to takedown a new supernatural serial killer on the rise, but things usually don't go according to plan, and this is no exception. Some things about Deans past come to light, particularly the years when he stopped hunting and disappeared at 22 only to reappear at age 28, and this time it's beyond personal. Sam's future becomes uncertain when Ruby begins acting strange, well, stranger than usual, and his life and the future of the world gets turned upside down. Dean/OC, Sam/Ruby/?? Set mid-season 4.

A/n- Yes, the summary is vague. I apologize for that, but if I said anymore my plot would be comepletey given away and then you wouldn't read the story. In any event, I appreciate you taking the time to glance at this and hope that you will be so kind as to review- give me your thoughts/wishes on the story, constructive criticism is always appreciated, etc,. I'm going to say this now before something happens and I get accused of over-reacting: I do NOT take flames well. I have a bit of a temper and I really don't like feeling angry so, please, for my sake and yours, don't flame me. If you've got something to say, say it in a polite way PLEASE. Ok. Im done now. :) Thank you!

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural (as unfortunate as that is). I DO own lots and lots and lots of books, and the original characters presented in this fic (I.E., any character that you don't recognize from the show).

Chapter 1: All Good Things Must Come to an End

Dean had been silent since they'd left. Sam wanted to ask what had passed between him and Anna but hadn't dared; Dean would either tell him it was nothing or wouldn't answer at all. Sam remained silent, opting to let Dean sort out whatever was going through head by himself. Dean, meanwhile, was recalling Anna's disappearance as well as the sacrifice she had made for them.

She sacrificed her freedom, her emotions, so that they would survive. And, not only that, she'd been willing to be punished even though Dean traded her for Sam, and she didn't judge him for it. Dean shook himself out of it. He hadn't been in love with her. He'd sympathized with her, and he'd understood her, but he hadn't loved her.

"So, where are we going next?" Dean asked the first words he'd spoken in over 4 hours.

"Minnesota. There have been 4 unexplained deaths with only two things in common; the way they died and their gender. All drowned and all were female. The victims were of various ages, heritages, physical characteristics, and none of them knew each other." Sam finished with an exasperated sigh, cracking his neck.

"So what exactly are we dealing with here? Angry spirit, Loch ness monster…?"

"I have no clue, man. It could be anything. I'm going to need some more information before I can give you a definite answer."

Dean nodded, checking the time on his watch. 2 hours to get to Minnesota before they began another hunt. Dean was starting to feel weary of this. Of hunting. Of risking his neck for people. It was just one thing after another.

First Sam died, then he had sold his soul to save Sam, then he got sent to hell, then he got pulled out of hell to be a puppet to the magic man in the sky, and then to finally win the enmity of not only every mother fucking demon out there, but the angels' as well.

Oh yeah, settling down with Mary Sue from Kentucky was starting to look really good. Dean shook his head at his thoughts. Saving people and hunting things, the family business which had taken so many lives, was what he did. It was his job, his life, and he had no right to complain, not with other people dying.

He looked to the side and snorted; Sam was passed out in the passenger seat, mouth open, complete with drool. He had done so much for his brother. Died, got sent to hell, put up with the demon bitch. And, Dean realized, he'd do it again. If he had to do it all over, he wouldn't change a thing. He pulled into a shitty roadside motel in a quaint suburban town called Farmington. He shook his brother's shoulder, jarring him awake.

"We're at the motel. Up you get, drooling beauty."

Sam frowned slightly, rubbing his eyes before getting out of the car to get the bags as Dean went in to pay for the room.

"Hi," Dean smiled at the attractive night manager of the motel. "I'd like a room for the night, two beds."

"Your name?"

"Alexander Williams. But, please, call me Alex." He shot her a wink and slid his credit card to her. She rolled her eyes.

"Ok, Mr. Williams. Here are your keys, and you're in room 212, second floor, east wing."

He smiled at her, watching her melt slightly and blush. He walked away grinning, muttering to himself "4 months in hell and I still got it…"

Sam was standing by the car looking drowsy and half asleep. Dean opened the door and threw his jacket on one of the beds, running a hand through his hair. Sam threw the bags on the floor and flopped onto the nearest bed, asleep almost immediately.

Dean shook his head before heading to the shower, deciding that it would be worth the hot water now instead of cold in the morning, after Sam had taken an hour. He was worse then a girl in that respect. Dean smiled, thinking about it and shaking his head before growing serious.

Sam couldn't come with him anymore. This wasn't his world, not anymore. He'd had the platinum life before he showed up. Sam had a good life for him, a bright future with the perfect girl, a career, a few kids, hell maybe even a dog.

But then Dean had come waltzing in with the family business, minus one member of the family, and royally fucked up Sam's future. His fiancé was murdered and, thanks to Dean's persuasion, his career ended, as did his bright future.

Dean shook his head. He never should have gotten Sam involved. Now, Sam was fooling around with a goddamn demon, helpful or not, and had some freaky set of black mojo powers. Dean leaned against the wall of the shower, his head resting against the cool porcelain. He would keep him out of the way from now on.

Send him on a few wild goose chases here and there, let him kill something every 2 or 3 hunts to keep him in the dark, but keep him out of harms way. He knew, by now, that the angel's would make good on their word; if Dean didn't stop Sam, they would. He sighed, turning off the water and stepping out of the shower. Starting tomorrow, Sam would be put out of the way.

Pulling on a pair of sweats, he crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling. He looked over at his brother, who was sleeping soundly without a care in the world. He was too relaxed for this life. He rolled over to one side and felt himself slowly slipping into a state of oblivion. It was time for another night of nightmares and memories of hell, and all that entailed. Oh joy.

When Sam awoke in the morning, Dean was ready to walk out the door and, realizing that Sam was awake, made a point of tapping his watch with a grin.

"'Morning, Sammy. Better hurry up and get dressed, we've got a lot to do today."

Sam frowned, his mind still hazy. "Dude, why are you so…happy?"

Dean looked at him with curiosity. "What do you mean 'happy'? I'm no different than I usually am."

Sam thought about it for a moment before saying "Dude, you're never this happy in the morning. And what the hell are you doing up before me anyway?"

"Wait a minute, Dean did you sneak a girl into here last night when I was asleep?" Sam's face portrayed disgust and growing apprehension.

"No! I told you, nothing's different."

"…Did you-?"

Dean abruptly cut him off. "No! Dude, seriously, drop it. I can wake up before you upon occasion, can't I?"

Sam nodded slightly, seeming to accept Dean's reply.

"So where are we going?"

Dean paused slightly. "I'm going to do some digging with the victims' families. You are going to Washington."

Sam stopped in his tracks, spinning around. "Washington? Why the hell do I need to go there?"

Dean continued getting ready to leave and didn't pause when he spoke- mostly because he had spent the better part of 5 hours practicing what to say in the bathroom mirror.

"New case opened up. Looks like its more vampires- the nasty kind. There have been several attacks within the past few weeks and the time elapsed between attacks is getting shorter. We obviously can't leave this case yet; whatever killed those girls is likely still out there. But we can't ignore the vampires either, so we do what the situation calls for; Divide and conquer."

Dean tossed the file full of false articles and morgue reports to Sam, hoping his face didn't betray the lie he was telling. Sam accepted the file with an exasperated sigh.

"Sure dude. How am I going to get there?"

Dean grinned. "That's one of the reasons I got up so early. Come check it out." He strode outside with a smirk on his face.

Sam walked outside and felt his eyes widen. "What the hell?"

Dean smiled, his eyes roaming the car. "Couldn't let you take my car; you might screw it up. So, I got you your own car; 1973 Chevy Laguna black exterior, black interior."

Sam looked up at him in surprise and suspicion. He took a look inside the car. It wasn't as well kept or mint as Dean's Impala, but then Dean always acted like that car was family anyway. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but why are you buying me car? Is something going on?"

Dean looked up at him, his eyes innocent. "Nope. Just thought it would be a little easier for you travel. Wouldn't want you to get picked up by some lonely trucker, especially with how pretty you are."

Sam gave Dean an aggravated, sarcastically disbelieving look. "Jerk.

"Bitch. Get going. Apparently these blood suckers are under the impression that a human a day keeps the dermatologist away."

Sam rolled his eyes. "And you expect me to leave without my clothes?" He made a motion to go back into the hotel.

"Already packed, they're in the trunk. The knife's packed too, as well as couple pounds of salt, some random sharp pointy objects, the usual stuff."

Sam frowned slightly as Dean tossed him the keys. He seemed too…eager for him to leave. He got in the car none the less, surprised to discover that his iPod had been hooked up. He gave Dean an inquisitive glance.

"The lovely hotel manager helped me install it." Dean waggled his eyebrows suggestively, refusing to admit that he had spent almost an hour trying to figure it out by his self.

Sam rolled his eyes once more before pulling out of the parking space, giving Dean a curt, mocking wave.

Dean pulled out a cell phone and put it in the glove box. "I'll call every so often to check in."

Sam nodded before speeding off, leaving Dean alone in the hotel parking lot. Dean smiled with accomplishment even though, at that moment, he'd never felt more alone.

He rubbed the back of his neck slightly before heading inside of the motel room and taking a swig of his coffee. He had just enough warning to prepare himself before he heard a familiar voice say "Don't you trust him?"

Dean turned around to look at Castiel with caution. "Of course. It's you and your kind that I don't trust."

Castiel's dark, calculating eyes searched him for a moment. "So why would that warrant you to send him away?"

Dean took another drink of his coffee. "I'm trying to keep him out of hunting for his own good, because the last thing that I need is to find out that the angels want my brother dead because he made a bad decision."

"What, you mean like sleeping with a demon?"

Dean paused. "Not the best example I could come up with but, yes, like sleeping with a demon."

Castiel kept eye contact with Dean, as though searching him for indecision. "Consorting with a demon, physically or mentally, is not the wisest of decisions."

"Neither is consorting with angels- you've brought a shit load of trouble too, you know."

Castiel smiled then, though the smile had no feeling in it. "That is also true. Apparently you Winchester boys aren't terribly bright, are you?"

Dean began to feel himself getting defensive when he realized that Castiel was trying to make a joke. He smiled, more for Castiel's benefit, and said "I don't suppose you'd be willing to shed any light on this case?"

Castiel shook his head slightly. "No, I can't. But please, Dean, keep in mind that children of mixed supernatural blood are very powerful, very dangerous, and much sought out. Whom ever their parent's are, are in very great danger because there are thousands of creatures that would be more than willing to die to get their hands on such a child."

Dean frowned. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You will understand in time, Dean. It is up to you if you should choose to be the Champion when the time comes."

Dean closed his eyes briefly, contemplating what Castiel had just told him before opening them to see that Castiel was, in fact, gone. He shook his head before donning the jet black Armani suit. He grimaced as he looked in the mirror; he looked like some Beverly Hills schmuck. He cracked his neck, rolled his shoulders, and prepared himself to visit several grieving families.

Dean pulled another tissue out of his pocket and handed it to the sobbing woman, a sympathetic smile on his face. "…and I just miss her so much! She was gone away to college for so many years and I never even got to say good bye."

Dean nodded. "We're doing all we can to figure out what's going on M'am. We'll figure out what happened to your daughter."

"Thank you! Oh, thank you!" The large, sobbing woman gave Dean a bear hug and he couldn't help but choke. She had the arms of a god damn wrestler! He felt himself going blue when she finally released him as he stumbled blindly out of her home, tugging at his tie.

He slid into his Impala and shut the door with a loud 'click'. Another dead end. He was starting to run low on 3 things; Patience, victims, and Kleenex. He didn't know how much more he could take. Next family: Walsh.

"How goes it?"

Dean slammed on his breaks and gritted his teeth, glaring slightly at Castiel.

"Was that really necessary?"

"My apologies. I hadn't realized that you were so poor at driving that a voice would shock you."

Dean grunted. He refused to be amused with Castiel's second attempt at a joke; his patience was thin enough as it was.

Castiel looked at him with unfeeling eyes. "I'm sorry to have left you so soon earlier. I was called and had to answer."

Dean kept his eyes on the road. "Just like a good little slave."

Castiel cocked his head to the side, frowning. "We are servants of Lord. He gives us the free will to choose whether or not we follow him."

"Free will? If he was so keen on free will and choices, not to mention forgiveness, then what about Anna? Why not give her the choice to remain on Earth as she was; a human. Fine. Take the Angel mojo out of her, but leave her alone."

Castiel cringed slightly. "Anna disobeyed the Lord. That is forbidden in our world. She did not do as she was commanded."

Dean shook his head. "Ordering the torture and death of a person because they disobeyed, because they dared to ask a question? Because they got tired of not feeling anything? Oh yes, that's going to cause a fucking apocalypse. Some God of forgiveness."

"You would defy him? You would challenge him?"

Dean shook his head, suddenly calm. "Not challenge, no. I disagree with him, and I don't like all that he does and the rules that he makes, but I don't challenge him. That wouldn't be very bright of me, now would it?"

Castiel stared at him unblinkingly. "And if Sam was on the line? If you had to defy, to challenge, God in order to save her, would you?"

Dean frowned. "Sam is male, remember?"

Castiel looked out the window, his eyes scanning the landscape as they passed bye. "It wasn't your brother to whom I was referring."

Dean frowned and shot him a confused look. "What are you talking about? I don't know any other Sam." He paused for a moment, trying to come up with a mental check list of all the female "Sam's" he knew, but cleared his throat as he realized there were simply too many girls whose names he couldn't remember.

"You will, and you will defy heaven and hell for her."

"What the hell are you talking about?

"You'll see."

Dean turned to look at him only to realize that Castiel was gone, and that he'd arrived at his next destination. He pulled over on the side of the road, taking note of his surroundings before pulling up a file.

Name: Lyla Williams

Age: 19

Occupation: Swimmer

Parents: Deceased.

Residence: Living with an Uncle and his family on her father's side.

Family: Lisa and Russell Fox; Daughter, Samantha Fox.

He quickly scanned what he could see from the outside of the home. A large, nice home in a good neighborhood. Solid cherry wood doors, 2000 Lexus in the driveway in addition to a medium sized SUV. The family is, or was at some point, very wealthy. He straightened his tie, for once glad that the Armani suit would come in handy.

He pulled out his badge and cracked his neck before ringing the doorbell.

A taller, older man answered the door.

"Yes, can I help you?"

"My name is Alexander Williams, FBI. I'm here to speak to you about your niece's death."

"Please come in." Dean smiled at the man before entering the home and gave the house a quick and appraising glance. His first assumption had been correct. They were, to put it mildly, very wealthy.

"Oh, for the love of God!" His head turned sharply as spied a tall, leggy blond with fierce brown eyes. He sent an appraising glance her way but was surprised to see her roll her eyes and send him a dirty look.

"We've already told the police everything we know. We don't know anymore. And, frankly, we are fucking sick of people barging in here every other day of the week to interrogate us further. Just leave us alone already! Let us mourn in peace for Christ's sake."

"Sammi!" Her father sent her a sharp look. "He is a guest in our home and you will not speak to him that way. And shouldn't you be at swimming practice?"

"I'll speak to him however I want to. And, yes, I should be at swimming practice. But I'm not going today because today, I actually get to have fun. I'm going to 1st Av. Club downtown with some friends."

"Samantha! Swimming is your future, you can't just skip practice because you feel like it!"

"Why not? I've spent years working on my career! Why can't I just have some fun once in awhile? I'm so sick of not being able to go out with my friends because I have responsibilities. I'm 22 for god's sake! I missed prom because of a damn swim meet. You tell me, how was that in any way fair?"

"Samantha, you will do what I say! I am your father!"

"Yes, you are. But I'm 22 years old and I'll do what I damn well please!"

Dean stood back watching the heated argument with interest. She was such a spit fire. He mused that he would not like to be on her receiving end. She flung her bag over her shoulder a slammed the door behind her, leaving an awkward silence in her wake as the Lexus tore out of the drive way, tires squealing. Her father sighed and rubbed his temples, he gave a half-hearted smile to Dean. "We should probably get started."

Dean nodded and pulled out his notepad and pen as the questions began.