Hello one and all! This is my very first SPN fanfic. Don't worry though, it's not a slash fanfic. I hope you enjoy it though. Do continue and if you need anything feel free to mail me or some shit... Just to warn you, my sensible and logical best friend hasn't gone through a lot of this so if it's crap, my sincere apologies for wasting your time. Now you may continue :D

Chapter One

San Francisco

Sharp footsteps sounded in the street, a light splash following due to the moist pavement. The orange streetlights made his pale skin glow a sickly amber colour and darkened the shadows beneath his eyes. He walked quickly, glancing over his shoulder every few steps; these areas were rough at this time of night and with his Ralph Lauren suit and Italian shoes who knew who might've attempted to mug him?

A low growl sounded; a hint of aggression in its tone. Rick stopped, frowning. He suddenly felt watched and pursued. His feet told him to run but his brain said that he'd pull a muscle being an almost middle-aged man. Despite his inner argument, he quickened his pace. The growling sounded again, that time seeming louder and closer. Rick stopped again and spun around in a circle, searching for the culprit. He was trying think positive: maybe it was one or more of his workmates on a boozy night out trying to prank him? Maybe it's just a dog that's chained up in someone's back yard?

But then it dawned on him, the… thing was following him. It seemed to quiet to be a drunken friend. It seemed too smart to be an aggressive pet. If it were a rabid dog, Rick was sure that it would have gone for him by now. That thing was hunting him and it was taking his time, savouring each and every sweet moment. And it was likely that he wouldn't escape.

'Just get it over with,' Rick thought darkly. It was as though the creature had heard him because it then crawled out of an alley, meters away from him.

Its thin structure made the creature seem vulnerable but its height and muscle mass made up for it. The creature stood high and mighty on its hind legs at about nine feet tall. Thick tufts of dark fur flicked out in all different directions in all different quantities around its body yet there was a large patch of bare skin on its chest which was slightly translucent. Every now and then for a mere second, sometimes less or more, its pulsing blood vessels would be on show.

Its long, yellowing claws clicked on the tarmac as it slowly closed the gap between itself and Rick. Upon closer inspection Rick, who was frozen to the spot with fear, found that its face was incredibly alike to that of a human's. The main differences being the long, wolf-like snout and the canines that were visible even when the creature's mouth was shut like an alligator's. It glared at Rick with ice-blue eyes. It was inspecting him; waiting for him to run. It was getting tired of waiting, though. Rick could sense it in its body language.

It snarled as it snapped at the air. Rick turned and began to sprint. No chance of survival but he wasn't going to give up without a fight. He forgot about pulling his muscles. He forgot about his age. He only thought about his safety. He screamed for help, his steps echoing in the street. The world flew past his eyes; the only thing he focused on was the end of the street.

Rick knew for a fact that he was going to die so why fight it? He finally gave up and stopped, breathless with beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. The creature didn't. Unexpectedly, Rick felt a huge, spine-snapping weight fling him into the air. Giant hands spun him in mid-air. He landed with a crunch on his back, thwacking his head on the floor. The creature didn't wait for a second as it immediately began to rip and tear at Rick Turner's weak body. Rick tried to scream but before he could his body went lifeless. All that could be heard were the hungry murmurs the creature made as it gnawed at Rick's chest cavity.

Once done, it crawled back to the alley it previously sprung from, leaving Rick's tortured body in the middle of the street. He was like an unfortunate bird that the cat had gotten in the garden. Ironically, the heavens opened soon after.

A slight jolt from a pothole in the road shook Sam awake. His sudden bolt back into reality almost caused him to drop the torch and map in his lap to the floor. He awkwardly caught everything. He scrunched his eyes shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to wake himself up a bit more. He sighed when he noticed that it was still dark outside. Even if it had been only a mere then minutes, sleep was a very precious thing for Sam these days.

Dean glanced at Sam with a grin, "mornin' sunshine!"

"Where are we?" he asked, sitting himself up from the slouch he was in. He clicked the torch on and straightened out the map.

"About a mile from Haight St. Maybe less," he replied glancing at Sam. "You okay?" he frowned.

"I'm fine, I'm just tired. That's all." That wasn't a total lie. Sam was pretty tired but he knew what Dean was pressing at. And it stung to think about it.

The last time they were in San Francisco, he had fell for Madison and he ended up having to kill her. He put her down like a sick dog- literally. Sam had gotten over it slightly – it had happened two years ago – but going back there had made Sam relive the feelings of guilt and sadness.

Sam sighed again and looked out the window into the night. "You're not fine, Sam." Dean said in an 'end of convo' way. There was a short silence between the two of them but the Impala's loud engine didn't make it too awkward. It was minutes until Dean said something, "it's kinda… odd. Don't you think?"

"What?" Sam replied.

"Werewolf was here two years ago, right?" He said, his last word trailing off slightly.

"Right," Sam in a way that told Dean to continue.

"And it's back again. Doesn't that strike you as… a little odd?" Dean was sure that Madison and Glen were the only werewolves in San Francisco, but obviously some or one more had come in.

"It's a big city Dean. Lots of people are out at night so it's more people to hunt," Sam had no clue where Dean was going with what he was saying but he was too tired to come up with a better logical explanation.

"Good point." Dean said simply, unsatisfied with Sam's reaction. He was hoping he would defend himself and Madison but instead he just brushed it off and totally ignored where he was going. He could tell that Sam wasn't… right at the time; he was on edge and distracted. It was like something was seeping out of him and it was far from good. But Sam had been like this for a while especially since he came back from hell. If only Cas were there so he could tell him what the hell was going on.

His miniature train of worries were interrupted by a quiet snore from his shotgun passenger. Dean shook his head with a slight smile and a sigh. If only Sam knew how worried his older brother was about him.

It was about twenty minutes until Dean pulled into a motel. He reluctantly woke Sam by shaking his arm until he woke. The look of confusion on his face was amusing; from suddenly being on a highway at night to then being in a car park in the day was likely to have him wondering where on earth he was. Dean stifled a grin to avoid having his head bitten off by his brother.

They both got out for the car in synch, as usual. They then went to the trunk of the car to collect their duffel bags. They said nothing to each other on the way to the check-in desk.

AN; Drama between the Winchesters! Well. I just hope you guys like it...
 -Z.