Yo! This the writing duo of LGPT. First off, there are no couples in this story. So don't go paring them together. Second off, we don't own supernatural, that belongs to the WB and we don't make any money from this. If we made money from this.. we'd be writing more and probably not be in college. Third, this rated what it is do things that may happen the future and Dean's Potty mouth. This takes place in season 1.

Drop Dead

Chapter 1

Santa Fe, New Mexico

It was quite at the old fort ruins, the moon was high in the sky, but it wasn't yet full. The temperature was a toasty 96 degrees. It was a clear night, not a cloud in the sky; the sounds of crickets were the music in the air. The grass, if you can call it that was still dead. The silence was disturbed by the sound of a diesel engine.

Coming to a stop the diesel engine purred in place. The driver was a young man with blonde hair and hazel eyes. Stepping in front of the truck, the passenger got out following his lead, and stood in of the truck next to him.

"Hey, why don't we go back to my place instead of hangin' around this old place." Said a young girl with strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes. "I could show you a real good time." She said seductively while grinding up against him.

"Damn it woman I told ya I wanted to get me a snake!" Shoving the girl off of him, he then turned his back on her.

"Fine, go get ya nasty snake, I hope it bites ya." She said snidely. "Puttin' me second to a nasty snake."

"Damn woman." He mumbled

Turning on the flashlight, he walked out into the desert ruins. He was breaking the law being on Federal own lands after the closing time. But hey, who follows the rules anyway. He loved the thrill of the chance of getting caught.

He turned to look at the truck; he didn't want to stray too far. He walked further out when he heard the tall tell sound of a rattle snake. With caution he made a circle while looking around for the snake shining his flashlight.

Finding the snake his smile faded.

"Well damn, it's only a baby."

He wasn't going to bother with it but the little snake struck and bit him on the shin. He was lucky that it was a 'dry bite' deciding to head back to the truck. He was about half way there when a snake bit him without warning, he made a move to step back, and it struck him again. The symptoms hit fast and hard.

He started to feel dizzy and weak. Even though it was in the high 90's, he was freezing cold and was sweating profusely. His heart was pounding and beating faster with ever step he took. He fell to the ground as his leg muscles spasmed and locked up. The truck within range of sight. He tried to call out for help but he couldn't. He crawled a few feet, close yet so far away from the truck and help. The exhaustion finally took over and passed out.

'Sweet home Alabama'

Where the skies are so blue

Sweet home Alabama

Lord I'm coming home to you

Here I come Alabama'

Singing along with the song the girl waited for her boyfriend to return. She grew impatient as each minute passed.

"Damn em. What's takin' so long." She said while turning off the radio.

Getting out of the truck she walked a bit and called out for her boyfriend.

"Beau!"

Only the crickets responded to her call.

"Beau!" she called out again. "God damn it Beau, this ain't fun…"

She was cut off as she tripped over something. While muttering some curses, she got off of her hands and knees to dust herself off. Looking down to see what she tripped over a scream erupted form her mouth. Falling back down on her but she scrambled away from the dead body her boyfriend.

Getting up she rushed into the tuck, turned it on and drove off without looking back. Leaving Beau's body to the elements and to the scavengers in the area.

Albuquerque, New Mexico

Sam looked over at Dean in the passenger seat. It must have been at least the sixth time he'd looked over there since they left the hotel for Santa Fe. He was just wondering how Dean could sleep there peacefully, when he was probably sweltering in his t-shirt, unbuttoned button up shirt and leather jacket. How could that be comfortable in the 93 degree dry heat? Considering Sam was hot in just his t-shirt.

"Sammy, you're freakin' me out with all the glances." He said turning his head, but Sam's eyes only met with dark sunglasses.

Sam looked back at the road. "Aren't you hot?"

"Yes"

"Then why don't you shed the extra layers?"

"Because without them I don't look as cool."

"You can burn up for all I care then." He remarked sarcastically.

"Alright, don't get ya panties in a bunch." He replied. He shrugged the jacket off and pulled off the button shirt throwing them into the back.

Dean understood, it was hot. His black Impala wasn't built for this much heat and sunlight. He really had no need for air-conditioning till now. He rolled down the window, and hung his arm and head out the window, hoping that would cool him down a bit. But all he got was a short relief and then the dry was back. Only he was a bit cooler.

"God I hate it here." He grumbled. He didn't like extreme temperature. He didn't like it overly cold or hot. "So tell me about the job, Sammy."

"I told you that yesterday, Dean."

"Refresh my memory for me."

Sam rolled his eyes, for Dean that meant last night at the bar he was exchanging glances with girls then paying attention to what Sam was saying.

"Well basically what's going on is that every time someone goes to visit the fort up near Santa Fe at night men and men only are getting attacked, even one killed by an apparition."

Dean looked at the scenery go by, dirt, sand, cactus and lots of dead things that looked similar to plants.

"So what you're sayin' is some ghosty is pissed off at men and is hurtin' even killin' them."

"Yes."

"Then this will be an easy 'Salt and burn' case." Said Dean smiling. The faster they could get out of this shithole, the better.

"Not that easy Dean."

Dean turned his head and looked at his brother his eyebrow raised, his little happy place shattering. "What?"

"Other then those who died at the fort originally the Santa Fe police haven't found any bodies or reported any murders in the Forts general area. And considering there haven't been any problems with this type of thing till now."

Dean grumbled. "Have they done any construction recently?"

"No, I checked. Nothing that could disturb an old spirit."

"So this will take some investigation, and that means well have to visit the fort at night."

Sam nodded. He was as pleased as Dean was with this.

"As long as I come back with all my fingers, toes, limbs and my head attached. I think I'll be okay with this plan off action."

"The faster the better?"

"Yes. That would be great." Said Dean sighing returning to looking at the so called 'scenery' that the great state of New Mexico had to offer. No, wonder the locals joked about it being the land of 'entrapment'.

Dean closed his eyes in the hope that he'd get a nap before they got to Santa Fe, and that he'd be over the hangover headache when they got there.

A result of too many shots with a Hispanic girl who promised to take him home if she won. He lost, and his only payment was a hangover the next morning. And less cash in his wallet. It was good thing Sammy didn't know of any of it. Sammy had left after half a light, complaining that the bar was to busy for him to concentrate on the task at hand.

Considering that money he'd won from a pool game back in Las Cruces was supposed to pay for the hotel in Santa Fe. It was Dean's turn to pay, since Sammy had covered the last hotel with his own fake credit card.

Both brothers's liked using the cash Dean won from a variety of bet-able bar games that Dean seemed to be good at.

Dean pulled out his Metallica tape out and shoved it in the cassette player. He was tired of the silence, and wind sounds. As 'Enter the Sandman' started, he sighed in the bliss that only metal could bring.

We don't own ' Sweet Home Alabama, That belongs to Lynard Skynard