A/N: Hello to whoever the hell is actually reading this. If you are, I love you. Please continue on. I will give you internet cookies. Anywho... this is my first fanfiction, so please don't rip me to shreds. I'm not expecting this to get many followers, if any, so anyone who does, you're awesome. Now, because I'm no Eric Kripke, my updates will probably take a while. I do have a job, and I'm going to a music festival this weekend, which means I don't have a ton of time to work on this. I am always open to criticism and ideas for the future of the story. Please try not to kill yourself when you read this. I apologize in advance for any horrible-ness. I would like to thank my editor and best friend, a-sociopath-and-a-moose, without her, my syncs would be sinks. Please review!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except my OC character. Everything Supernatural belongs to their genius owners.

Chapter 1

"I still can't believe you talked me into this" Dean Winchester muttered under his breath, shaking his head. His younger brother, Sam, looked back at him and rolled his eyes.

"This is a case. I can just tell" Sam protested. Dean of all people understood that certain hunch that hunters get when they know something is up. The brothers were in Lecompton, KS. Not far from the bat cave. A town of less than 700 people. So when there was a grisly murder, it showed up on the radar of pretty freaking weird. Dean was unsure. It was always a possibility that it was just some fucked up serial killer. The article didn't have many details in it, except for the fact that a mutilated body was found in the woods Sunday morning. So far, the facts lined up. The attack was at night, and of course, it was the right time of the lunar cycle.

Dean didn't reply, letting the sound of Zeppelin fill the silence in the Impala. There was an unspoken agreement that the rest of the drive would be made in silence. Dean wasn't going to lie. He missed this. Saving people. Hunting things. The family business. Things had changed, obviously. He couldn't deny that. The apocalypse, losing Adam to the cage, Sam and the demon blood, and the most recent, the angels falling. That had been the hardest on Dean. Seeing the look of utter fear and sadness on Castiel's face for the first time had damn near killed him. He cared about that damn... well... human... more than he wanted to admit. But that was for later. He wouldn't reopen that wound now. Not before a hunt. He wanted a break and go back to doing what he was best at. Even if it was only for a few days.

Dean slowed the Impala to a stop in front of the police station, looking around as he turned off the engine. The place was tiny. One intersection with only the basics, and houses branching off and fading into the distance. Dean shrugged and pulled out two fake badges, handing one to Sam before stepping out of the car. Dean took the lead and walked into the station, following shortly behind. Dean sauntered up to the first desk and looked at the nameplate displayed in front of him.

"Sheriff Kennedy" He read out loud, then looked up at the surprisingly young man sitting in the chair. Sheriff Kennedy looked about 35, short curly black hair, and eyes that always seemed to shift in colour. Not that Dean noticed things like that. The corner of Kennedy's mouth turned up in a warm smile.

"How can I help you gentleman?" He asked. Sam and Dean flashed their badges in sync.

"I'm Agent Rich Williams," Dean introduced, then motioned to Sam, "and this is my partner Steve Walsh. We're with the FBI." The Sheriff raised an eyebrow skeptically, eyeing the two of them. "We're here about the murder" Dean continued. Kennedy nodded slowly.

"This is a pretty small gig for some feds" Kennedy commented. Dean shrugged the comment off.

"We happened to be passing through the neighborhood" Dean replied coolly. Kennedy sat back and thought for a minute before standing.

"Might as well show you the body" Kennedy said, leading them to one of the back rooms. Sam snapped out of the haze he was in and followed after the two other men. When they entered the morgue, Sam looked beside him and held down a smile. He always felt bad for some of the guys when he worked on a case. It was pretty much guaranteed that they would be smaller than him and his brother. Kennedy looked up at Dean, then Sam, gulping slightly before walking over to one of the compartments and pulling it open. He unzipped the body bag revealing a mutilated corpse of a man. Sam shot Dean an 'I told so glare', after seeing the man's heart had been ripped out. The elder brother snapped on a pair of latex gloves before poking around at the gaping wound.

Sam loaded their rifles with the silver bullets before slamming the trunk and turning to face Dean. He was met with a glare that gave Sam's bitch face a run for its money.

"What?" Sam hissed, cocking an eyebrow. Dean set his jaw and slowly shook his head.

"Hurt my baby like that again and I swear to God, I will rip that Rapunzel hair or yours right out of your head" He threatened venomously. The younger brother just shook his head and started walking. He would never understand the obsession with that damn car. Dean gave the Impala's trunk an affectionate pat before following after his brother.

The two men, if you can call them that, hid behind the tree line surrounding the park. They waited for what seemed like forever with no sign of their monster. Dean raised his rifle to his shoulder and aimed it into the space. Sam instantly stiffened and raised his gun too, ready to fire. To Sam's disappointment, it was just Dean trying to amuse himself.

"Pew, pew, pew" He mimicked the rifle under his breath, pretending to shoot at objects throughout his field of view. Sam rolled his eyes and slowly stood, stretching his arms. Dean shook his head and stood as well. "I don't know, man. It's pretty quiet out here." Sam nodded in agreement and let out a heavy sigh. Dean looked to his side and snorted obnoxiously.

"Dude," he said, elbowing his brother in the side and lazily pointing towards the town's 'Welcome' sign, "Check it out. The population of this place is 666. Heh." Looking over at Sam, he instantly winced when he found himself on the receiving end of a classic bitch face. "If you keep doing that your face will stick there." Dean mused. Sam opened his mouth to protest, but was suddenly dragged backwards and thrown to the ground, followed by a low, ominous growl. Dean scrambled to raise his gun, but the shadow that had taken Sam down was now upon Dean. He fought to sit up, but when he opened his eyes, he came face to face with an eerie set of yellow ones. Werewolf. Shit. It's massive jaw was agape, showing it's dangerous set of teeth and blowing it's putrid breath in to Dean's face. It snarled, raising its claw, ready to sweep down and tear his throat out, but was suddenly stopped when the sound of a gun firing pierced through the air. The creature fell limp on top of Dean, forcing a groan of protest.

"Sammy," he wheezed, attempting to lift the werewolf's heavy corpse off of himself. He coughed and sputtered, then managed to haul it off. He stood quickly, wavering slightly once he reached his feet. He scanned the area looking for his little brother. "Sammy!" he called again. He started walking, then tripped over a large mass on the ground. It made a soft cough when he landed. "Sammy?" he waited, then heard a groan in response, "fucking hell. Get up, Bitch." Dean stood and peered into the dark, watching Sam's tall figure slowly stand.

"Jerk," he muttered bitterly. "We need to find who shot the werewolf." Dean nodded in agreement. The brothers began scanning the area, checking every crevice possible.

"No shit, Sherlock" Dean retorted before walking off.

"Son of a bitch" Dean muttered, as he continued his unsuccessful search. He whipped around when he heard tree branches rustle, and a soft thump.

"Well hello there," A woman's low, sultry voice came from behind Dean. His eyebrows shot up when he faced the source of the words. The woman in front of him was tall and slender. She looked like she was only a year or two older than Sam. Her long Auburn hair tied back in a ponytail, her piercing grey eyes staring him down. Her jaw line was sharp but gentle at the same time, she had a petite nose, and soft, round lips. And in Dean's mind, perfect jugs. She was wearing a tight-fitting black tank top, snug jeans, biker boots, and a thigh holster. A mother fucking thigh holster. Dean shook his head and pushed any and all inappropriate thoughts entering his brain away, dragging his eyes back up to hers. "Aren't you a pretty one" she crooned, biting her bottom lip, letting her eyes scan over his body.

Dean's flirtatious instinct kicked in as he stood up straighter. "What can I say?" he said modestly with a small shrug. "You aren't too bad yourself, little lady. By the way..." he trailed off, then loaded his pistol and raised it at her. "Who the fuck are you?"

The woman stood up straighter and licked her lips, staring down the barrel of the gun. "I'm the one who just saved your sorry asses" she quipped, eyes darting to Sam who had walked up beside Dean.

"How about a name" Sam urged icily.

No response.

"Well, since you won't give us your name, we'll just have to give you one." Dean stated as he racked his memory. "Let's call you Uhura" he decided with a small, happy nod.

The woman, Uhura, gave Dean a skeptical look. "Stark Trek, really?" she asked, shaking her head. Dean gave her a warning glare.

"Don't bash Star Trek" Dean snipped, lowering his gun. Uhura just sighed and shook her head, turning to go the other way. "Not so fast," he called. She turned around to face him, planting her hands on her hips.

"What?" She asked impatiently, tapping her foot on the ground.

"You're coming back with us" Dean said flatly. Sam's eyebrows shot up as he gaped at Dean.

"What?!"' Both Uhura and Sam hissed in unison. Dean looked over at Sam and gave him a not now, I know what I'm doing look. Sam ran a hand over his face and shook his head in defeat.

"And if I don't?" Uhura tested. Dean smirked and shrugged, raising his gun again. Uhura let out a short breath of frustration. "Fine. Lead the way Hardy boys."

When they reached the Impala, Dean opened the back door and motioned for Uhura to get in. She paused and took in the sight of the car, eyebrows raised. "67 Impala. Nice" she commented in awe. Dean snapped his head to her with a pleasant surprise smeared across his face. He nodded, standing a little taller. Sam just rolled his eyes and got in the car, followed by Uhura, then Dean.

The first part of the drive was in complete silence. About an hour into the drive, Uhura broke quiet.

"So are you guys going to tell me your names?" She asked slowly. Dean smirked.

"I'm Neil Peart, and this is my partner Alex Lifeson" He responded smoothly. Uhura narrowed her eyes.

"Bullshit. Unless you somehow took 30 years off yourself and changed your entire look. I know that you guys aren't the drummer and guitar player from Rush. Try again" she retorted. Dean looked up at her through the rearview mirror.

"Nice catch. I have to say I'm impressed," He admitted, "for a girl"

Uhura flicked the back of his head. "Fuck you" she snapped.

"Oh my god! You two are like children!" Sam shouted, instantly silencing them. Uhura drummed her fingers on her legs aimlessly, her gaze out the window.

"So...who are you guys. Really?" She asked again, most of the sarcasm and bitterness gone from her voice.

"My name's Dean, and this is my brother Sam" he introduced. "What were you doing in the park?"

"Same thing as you two morons, except I didn't get attacked" Uhura smirked, looking at the brothers. Dean just narrowed his eyes and continued driving in silence.

After another hour of driving, Uhura couldn't stop moving around. Constantly adjusting her position, fiddling with her hair, drumming her fingers, humming, anything to keep her mind busy.

"How much longer? Do you have any music?" She asked, leaning over the back of the front seat. Dean silently pulled out one of his cassette tapes and popped it in the stereo. He smiled faintly as Metallica came through the speakers. Uhura leaned her head back and grinned.

"Turn it up. I love this song" she said, bobbing her head slightly. Dean shrugged and did as she asked. Maybe this mysterious chick wouldn't be so bad after all.