A/N: I began writing this 2 years ago, following the conclusion of season 4 so this picks up right after that. It's taken awhile for me to get this all down and ready to share and it's certainly been a labor of love so I hope you all like it :)

Dean made a fist and struck the side of the rundown jukebox as hard as he could. Finally the opening chords of AC/DC's Back in Black began to play. He enthusiastically bobbed his head to the beat and flashed a triumphant smirk towards his brother.

"Yes Dean, you outsmarted an 80 year old jukebox. Impressive," Sam joked with a smile that didn't nearly reach his eyes.

Dean chuckled and accepted the jab. It was rare to see Sam in a joking mood anymore so he would take what he could get.

He eyed his little brother as they sat together at the bar, beer bottles in hand. Sam was looking rough. His eyes were marred by dark circles, his cheeks looked gaunt and even his hulkish figure seemed to be slimming.

Not that it wasn't to be expected, they'd had a hellish few month. That demon slut, Ruby, had gotten Sam addicted to demon blood. Needless to say that has caused a huge riff between the brothers, one worse than they had ever experienced before and one they hadn't truly recovered from yet, one they were unsure if they ever would.

Dean had tried to look out for Sam, just as he always had, forever trying to keep a promise he had made to their dad when he was only four years old. But he could only do so much and Sam had refused to believe Ruby was manipulating him…Turns out she was. She used him to kill Lilith, thus breaking the 66th seal, releasing Lucifer from hell and setting the apocalypse into motion. Yeah, she had turned out to be a real sweetheart.

Now the apocalypse was upon them and Sam was battling a mean demon blood addiction. Life was just peachy, as it usually was for the Winchester boys.

They currently found themselves in a dive bar in the middle of nowhere Ohio. Lucifer would be coming, but they had no idea when and he seemed to be taking his time. That part was good news for them, they didn't know much about how they were going to stop him, but they did assume it would be best if Sam were back to himself before it all went down.

That whole thing wasn't exactly going well, but Dean refused to give up. When he had been damned to hell Sam never once gave up on him, even when Dean had begged him to, so now it was Dean's turn to not rest until he could save his brother. Even if it took the rest of his life or cost him it.

Dean took another swig of his beer and tried to will their problems away for the evening. Hell, even a couple hours of no worries would have been great. He thought he was getting his way, for once, when a woman began to approach them.

He nudged his brother, "Check it out, Sammy, I don't even have to do the work on this one, she's coming right to me. It's gonna be a good night," he winked.

Sam did little more than roll his eyes and sigh.

The woman strutting towards them was just Dean's type too, very badass-looking. She was slim and of average height, but looked like she could kick some ass if she had to. Maybe her wardrobe contributed to the vibe she gave off. Her long hair, nearly brushing her waist, was pitch black and her make-up harsh. She wore a fitted leather jacket over a vintage Pink Floyd shirt and tight jeans tucked into knee-high boots. Yeah, she had Dean all over her…or she would soon enough.

He really thought things were going to go his way, if just for that night, until she spoke to them…

"You're Sam and Dean Winchester, right?" she asked casually.

Dean recoiled as if he had been slapped across the face and Sam suddenly snapped to attention. It wasn't often people recognized them and it was even less often that someone knew their real names. Technically speaking, Sam and Dean Winchester didn't exist, not anymore, they had died in a freak helicopter explosion more than a year ago. But even before that the brothers had been using aliases for years, most of their lives really.

They stared at each other for a moment, unsure of how to answer the beautiful stranger's simple question. Dean decided protecting themselves was probably more important than getting laid so he put on his best crass tough guy act, which wasn't exactly a stretch for him.

"We might be, what's it to you, dollface?" he snapped as he looked her over from head to toe. Chicks hated that stuff, it was sure to get her going, maybe even piss her off enough to leave them alone.

She sneered and rolled her eyes at Dean before moving her attention and efforts to Sam.

"Look, you can cut the crap, I know who you are and I just want to help, okay?"

"How can you possible help us?" Sam asked helplessly, his empty eyes fixed on her.

"I know what you've been doing, Sam," she placed a hand on his shoulder and he flinched a little at the contact, "with the demon blood and everything…and I know how to fix it too, how to make you clean again."

"You don't know anything, you're just some crazy crackpot!" Dean shouted a little too loudly as most of the bar turned to look at him.

"Maybe we should continue this little conversation outside," the woman suggested through clenched teeth.

"No, I think we're done here."

"Have it your way, let your brother stay all darkside," she said as she began to walk away.

"Wait!" Sam protested. She stopped dead in her tracks, but didn't turn to face him again.

He turned to his brother. "Dean, if there's even a chance she could actually help me then shouldn't we at least look into it?"

"Are you freakin' kidding me? Are you really that willing to blindly trust another woman? After all the crap Ruby pulled? You wouldn't even need the help if you hadn't trusted her in the first place."

Dean could tell that one stung Sam, but as he searched his eyes he could see he really was willing to take any chance to be cured of the situation he had gotten himself into. And Dean wanted nothing more than that himself.

"Fine," he agreed reluctantly. "I'll talk to her, you just wait here."

He stood and quickly chugged the rest of his beer before slamming the bottle down on the counter. Then he grabbed the girl by the elbow and stomped out the door.

It was even easier to dislike her in the faint light of the parking lot, where Dean could no longer see her big blues eyes glaring at him nor was he taunted by the alluring curves of her body, but something still made him not trust himself to be alone with her for very long.

She marched right over to one of the many motorcycles lining the sidewalk in front of the bar and leaned against it with her arms folder over her chest.

In actuality she was probably a great deal shorter than Dean, but with those killer boots on she could look him right in the eyes and she was. It was making Dean uneasy and uncomfortable, he squared his shoulders and got on with it.

"So what's your story, crackpot?" he asked coldly.

"I'm obviously not a crackpot and you know that," she answered matter of factly. "If I were I wouldn't know about the elusive Winchester brothers or demons or Sam's little habit of drinking their blood…oh or the upcoming apocalypse, yeah, I know about that too."

Dean stood with his mouth hanging open in shock. Sure, there were plenty of nutjobs who always thought the apocalypse was upon them…but now it really was. Common people weren't in on that little bit of information though, only…

"Come on Deanie, I know you're smarter than you look, thankfully, you can put it all together…I'm a hunter, just like you."

"And why should I believe you?"

With a sigh she opened the saddlebag on the side of the bike and pulled out a flashlight and a cigar box. Opening the box she held it out to Dean and shone the light on it. Inside were a multitude of fake IDs and forged documents, very similar to the boxes Sam and Dean both had, that all hunters had.

"I know there's no real proof of who is a hunter and who isn't, but I think that should do it," she said smugly.

"Okay, so you're a hunter, I'll give you that, but that still doesn't explain how you know about us or why you think you can cure my brother."

"Listen Dean, I don't like rehashing my life story anymore than you do, so let's just say I've seen some things and done some stuff too. The bottom line is nothing you have done has helped Sam and I'm pretty sure I know something that can. You either want my help or you don't, you decide."

With that she grabbed a helmet off the back of the bike and crammed it on before starting it up.

"Wait!" Dean shouted over the roar of the bike as his resolve cracked. "I don't even know you name. I mean, how am I supposed to find you in the rare event that we might decide we want your help?"

She smiled back at him, knowing she had finally reeled him in. "The name's Angie, last name varies day to day," she winked. "And here's my number," she handed him a folded napkin, "call me when you're ready for help, the sooner the better…for Sam's sake."

And then she drove off into the night.