Spy Guy: Here's chapter 2. I'm sorry for those of you I couldn't reply to. I'm sorry. :D I'll try to do better next time.

The Format's slightly different than I said it would be. Instead of four years after that, this is two years. And the chapter after this will pick up a few months from this. It's still an experiment, and I'm not sure if it'll work. If it seems too awkward or choppy tell me, and I'll rethink my tactics. :D

Enjoy.

March, 1998.

Dean could feel his breath catch in his throat as he pressed himself against the cold metal wall, feeling the thick rust pressing against his skin. Snarling reached his ears, low, gleeful; the sound of monsters taking another for their own.

Screams…Caleb's screams.

Dean steeled himself, trying to ignore the pit growing in his stomach…trying to ignore his fellow hunter's cries as the demons gathered around him, each in their human guises, vying for a chance to wear his suit.

Dean felt rage bubble up within his chest, hot and almost blinding. It took as all his will to push it aside, and concentrate on holding his hiding place. He knew that if he were to be discovered, he wouldn't stand a chance against the five creatures assembled before him. He could take out one, or two with his knife, but it wouldn't be long until he was strapped to that chair right beside his fellow human, screaming his own curses at his captors.

Finally, the demons decided, and one, dressed as an old man, came forth in a cloud of dark smoke, spilling to the ground. Dean couldn't watch, knowing that Caleb would be pursing his lips…holding his breath. The demon would get in anyways. They always did. Sometimes it took a little pushing, but in the end, Caleb would be possessed, and Dean would have to kill him.

The boy gritted his teeth, and bit back a scream, his fingers gripping the knife in his hand. He wanted to run into the circle, shouting as loud as he could. He wanted to rip and tear and maul and bash and break. He wanted to do something. Not sit in silence, praying for a miracle.

But it was all he could do.

Turning back to the demons, Dean watched solemnly as the monster got to its feet, flexing the fingers of its new Caleb suit, smiling maliciously. It made a show of displaying its new, youthful body, spinning slowly as the others laughed and keened in delight. The sound made Dean sick to his stomach.

Caleb couldn't be dead...

The older hunter had been too stubborn to listen to Sam...Too stubborn to save himself. He just wanted to get out and bust the demons...send them all to oblivion.

Why hadn't Caleb listened to Sam? Sam had warned him...he had seen his death, and yet, the hunter went anyway...and Dean followed him! Sam had seen Caleb die alone...so...Dean had thought...thought that if he went with him, to back him up...then maybe...maybe...

Maybe he could be saved.

It had been wishful thinking. Dean crouched in his hiding place, trapped between a wall and an old oil drum, forced to watch as the demon in Caleb's skin quickly thrust a long dagger into its puppet's chest. The creature squealed loudly in ecstasy as it reveled in the agonized mental screams of its host.

The dagger fell to the ground with a loud clatter as the demons cheered.

There were five of them.

Dean could feel fire burning his chest...the anger he felt toward the demon scum assembled before him. He couldn't contain it anymore. The boy gripped his weapon in his hand, feeling the rough leather hilt beneath his palm. The cursed Knives were the only known weapons that could kill a demon. John Winchester had come into the possession of three very powerful ones, with sharp blades, and wicked curves. Dean had been given one as a gift for his sixteenth birthday a few months ago, and he treasured it more than anything...

It was the time to put it to good use!

The hunter sprang from his hiding place, screaming a battle cry at the top of his lungs. The circle of demons turned toward him, their reactions slow. Most were in old bodies...as if they had all taken their hosts from a retirement home.

But that didn't mean they would be weak.

The Caleb demon was the first to react, its eyes flashing black as it pointed an accusing finger at the approaching hunter.

"It's the Winchester brat! He's got one of the Knives!"

The other demons hissed, taking fighting stances, baring their teeth and flexing their fingers in preparation for a fight. Dean knew that he had no chance of winning. It was impossible. The odds were too stacked against him...

He would fall just like Caleb.

An old woman stepped up, drawing her energy together, sending Dean flying across the room with a swipe of her arm. Dean hit the ground, rolling to prevent serious energy. The last thing he needed was to break his arm, or dislocate his shoulder. He wanted to think that he had some chance of making it out of the warehouse alive...even though, in reality, he didn't.

The demon was obviously higher up on the scale than he had thought...which only served to complicate things.

A sudden weight fell on his chest, mashing his body violently into the ground. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move. He could barely even breathe. Dean gasped like a fish, his eyes wide and staring as the old woman advanced on him, her own eyes as black as pitch.

"The Winchester boy, eh?" She asked, kneeling by his side. Dean swore as she pried the knife from his grasp...its blade sadly devoid of the black oil of demon blood. "You obviously haven't learned to judge demons have you? I'm bigger than whatever you've faced, and you thought I'd just fight you like an animal, tooth and nail? You were wrong hunter."

Dean groaned as her energy pressed harder on his chest, crawling up over his throat, and compressing his windpipe. He had heard stories about demons who could manipulate humans at will, but he hadn't ever come into contact with one. Neither had his dad, for that matter. They were supposed to be locked away in hell, never allowed to walk the earth...

Where had this one come from?

"Hunters make the most ideal hosts." the demon continued, running a hand over Dean's face. He flinched, hating the cold, dead feeling of the woman's skin.

"They're already fit, and strong, and their minds hold the knowledge of their teachers...their contacts, their bars, their lodges. Can you see why hunters are so valuable?"

"Oh God…" Dean whimpered, realizing what the demon had planned for him.

"I'm dead…"

It didn't take long for the demon to make its move. The woman's body lurched, black billowing from her mouth as the creature spilled forth, floating casually toward its new vessel. Dean fought against the pressure on his chest, gagging as he struggled to breathe…struggled to scream. Struggled to do anything.

He had always thought that possession would feel like fire…like every nerve ending was burning, being ripped away. Instead, it was cold, like his insides had been filled with ice. He was numb, floating in a void, catching only snatches of what the demon saw with his eyes.

He could hear the monsters' joy as they massed around their leader, the strongest of them all. Dean could feel his captor's power thrumming through his veins, but it wasn't a part of him…it wasn't his power. His body belonged to the demon now…and he was helpless to stop it.

He saw Caleb kneeling before him, head bowed, a smile on his drawn lips. Excitement filled the air…pride…the demons were proud of their leader's new suit. It was Winchester's son after all. He was young, he was handsome. He would be able to string new 'suits behind him like a thread. Dean felt like crying, but his body resisted. He wasn't strong enough. He wasn't prepared enough. He was too weak to fight off the monster inside of him.

He was dead.

He fell into darkness.

A scream awoke him, dragging him from the black abyss. Suddenly, he could see the world with frightening clarity, chaos raging all around him. Dean could feel his muscles working. He was running.

"Dean!" an agonized voice cried out. The boy felt his gut clench at the sound.

It was his dad.

"Oh God…Dad…get out of here. Let someone else kill me."

The demon inside of him stopped running, panting slightly as it glared at the scene playing out before it.

Two of the demons were dead, their 'suits lying prone on the floor, taking their last, agonized breaths. Another demon was squaring off with John, preventing him from advancing further, attempting to draw him away from its leader.

Caleb's demon was facing a grizzled old man, one that Dean recognized to be Bobby Singer, John's best friend, and Dean's surrogate uncle. The older hunter had a cursed Knife of his own, and stabbed at his target's body, piercing the heart. Caleb let out a loud shriek, and collapsed, convulsing slightly as the demon slowly left him.

In a few moments, Dean was the only one left. The demon inside of him took a few more steps back, shaking its head.

"My followers!" It bellowed. "You will pay for that!"

"And you'll pay for taking my son, you bastard!" John growled, holding his long knife deftly in his hand, black blood dripping from its blade. Dean had never seen the man so angry in his life. He was trembling with pent up emotion, his face red with uncontrolled rage.

John Winchester was out for blood.

The demon gathered its energy together, pushing the eldest Winchester aside with a mighty sweep of its arm. Dean wanted to scream as his father smashed into a pile of wooden crates, his body immediately going as limp as a doll's.

"John!" Bobby screamed, pulling his knife from Caleb's chest. He regarded the demon cautiously, his fingers white-knuckled on the blade's hilt.

"You're one of the ancient onces, aren't you?" The hunter demanded, taking up a fighting stance. "The ones that are supposed to be locked away."

"You're a smart monkey, aren't you?" The demon mocked, running its hand through Dean's hair. "It's creatures like you that Master needs out of the way. He wants this world to be ignorant, for his children to rule." The monster drew energy into Dean's hand, allowing it to coalesce in his palm.

"There is no place in the future for you, hunter."

He readied himself to strike...

"Stop!" A voice shouted, reverberating against the walls. The demon turned towards the noise, a flare of anger stabbing its previous composure. Dean could feel only fear, knowing who the voice belonged to...

He knew that it was someone who should be back at the hotel room, or waiting in the car, just like he always did. He knew that it was someone who shouldn't be getting involved in a doomed hunt like this one.

He knew it was Sam.

The boy was running, panting heavily as he neared the center of the warehouse, drawing closer to the powerful leader with each step. Dean wanted to scream at him...demand that the boy turn back, and forget about him...but he couldn't.

He couldn't even warn him.

The demon chuckled, hurling its energy in the boy's direction, seeking to throw him into the wall. Dean fought against the creature with all his might, pushing against the walls of his prison, screaming in his head, begging the demon to leave little Sammy alone...

"I'm supposed to protect him! I always protect him! Don't touch him!"

Dean retreated into his abyss, not wanting to see Sammy hurt...not wanting to see his utter failure laid out in front of him.

He was dead already...why wouldn't the demon just end it?

"Sam!!"

There was nothing...no cries of pain...no loud thud...

Nothing...

Dean looked again, surprised to see Sam, standing only five feet away, sweat gleaming on his forehead, his hazel eyes narrowed angrily. He looked completely unharmed...

"Like the demon's energy had no effect on him..."

"Let him go!" Sam demanded, a growl rumbling in his throat. Dean felt himself take a step back as the demon inside squirmed uncomfortably. It didn't like Sam. It didn't like the look in his eyes...the utter confidence he held.

It was afraid.

"Why should I?" The demon barked, trying to hide its apprehension. Dean wondered what Sam was doing. He wondered why, all of a sudden, the kid had chosen to grow a backbone.

Was it because his guardian was in danger?

Sam stood still for a moment, his eyes staring wide at the creature in Dean's skin. He seemed to be mulling something over, judging his next move, trying to figure out what to do next.

"Sam! Get away from him!"

It was John's voice, strained as he weakly pulled himself from the tangle of crates. As usual, Sam ignored him completely, slowly raising his arm, completely focused on the monster before him. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes, splaying his fingers wide.

When he opened his eyes again, they were a bright yellow.

Dean suddenly felt a pull, as if something was tugging at the creature oppressing him. The demon gagged, convulsing as it clutched at its chest, coughing and spluttering. Sam continued to hold out his arm, his eyes blazing, a small trickle of blood running from his nose. Gradually, Dean felt control return to him; his limbs becoming leaden, his mouth becoming dry. He fell to his knees, coughing black smoke from his lungs, expelling the last remains of what had once been a powerful demon...

He saw Sam stumble toward him, his eyes still yellow in his sockets. The kid collapsed, clutching Dean's sleeve and crying, just as he had two years ago when they had first met. Sluggishly, the older boy embraced him, feeling tears welling in his own eyes. Whatever the kid had done, it had saved him. Sam had saved him from a lifetime of hell...

Azazel laughed softly to himself, turning his bright yellow eyes to the demon kneeling before him. His servant was shivering in the body of a frail female child; the perfect disguise to fool any hunter. It was a weak body, but a useful one nonetheless. The demon lord preferred to take the form of a male, despite how it hindered him. Woman were generally underestimated more often than men.

"Do you bring me news of my wayward son?" The creature asked, his hands clasped behind his back.

The servant nodded, replying in its small, timid voice.

"He used his powers a few days ago, in a warehouse formerly inhabited by one of your followers. John Winchester noticed...and he didn't like it."

"Is Samuel alright?" Azazel demanded, reeling on his lowly servant. The demon quickly nodded, cringing at the sight of its Master's sudden mood change.

"John just wants him away. He's sending him to the pastor."

"Sending my son to a holy place?" The demon lord barked, his eyes blazing. "That's the last thing he needs. He's already too moral for his own good. I may just have to intervene a bit. Make my presence known, to keep my son on the path that I have chosen for him..."

Spy guy: Thanks for reading, and please review to tell me what you think. :D BTW, supernatural has been renewed for a fifth season. :D We'll see what happens from there.