DISCLAIMER: I don't own Supernatural.

CHAPTER – 1

Two Days Ago

It was a sunny day in Bayport, Barmet Bay. The roads were virtually empty as the black '67 Chevy Impala rolled into town, blasting Metallica's "Ride the Lightning".

Seventeen-year-old Sam looked out the window as his brother pulled into the motel they were supposed to stay in. Dad was a couple states over, working a job. The place he was in didn't have decent roads, let alone schools, and John didn't want Sam to miss the beginning of the year. So while Dad took care of the case, Sam was going to have to go to Bayport High with the rest of the kids.

At least, he reasoned, He wouldn't be joining at the end of the year.

Dean glanced at his brother in concern before killing the engine. His brother hadn't spoken a word since that hell of a fight he had with Dad, Dean acting as referee as usual.

"C'mon, Sammy," Dean punched his brother lightly on the shoulder before getting out of the car. "Help me out with the stuff."

While he got the bags inside, Dean paid for their room with a credit card owned by a "Mr. Ian Gillan". The room they got was quite nice, compared to some of the motels dad had taken them to. At least this one didn't have a cockroach infestation in the bathroom, or a suspicious looking stain on the mattress.

Once they settled in, Dean turned to Sam. "So, where d'you wanna go for lunch?"

"I saw this nice place on the way here," Sam said, shrugging on his jacket. "How do you feel about pizza?"

"Mr. Pizza?" Dean asked incredulously, peering through the car window as he parked the car. "You wanna have lunch at a place called 'Mr. Pizza'? What are you, seven?"

"Shut up, Dean," Sam rolled his eyes. "There are a lot of people here our age."

"Whatever."

The inside of the pizza parlor was just as he had expected: bright colored booths with the Mr. Pizza logo at the centre of the table, smiling waitresses who didn't look under thirty wearing bright aprons, serving families with young children. But the place was also filled with teenagers who were enjoying the last of their holidays before school began.

They took a table in the corner and gave their order to the smiling woman. Sam looked around as they waited for their food. Dean was checking his messages, in case Dad had called.

The group closest to their table was the largest. They were all laughing at a joke which a blonde-haired guy was telling. He looked about Sam's age and was quite buff. The guy sitting next to him looked a little older and leaner, with brown hair, eating fries. But the similarity was there: they must be brothers. Next to the brown-haired guy, clutching his arm was a pretty blonde sipping coke, obviously the brown-haired guy's girlfriend. Opposite to them was a plump guy stuffing a burger into his mouth, next to him another blonde, really tall muscular guy. Suddenly, Dean snapped his fingers, startling him.

"Our food's here, Sammy," he said around an enormous mouthful of extra-cheesy Chicken Barbeque Large Pizza. Sam wrinkled his nose in disgust at his brother's lack of table manners, then dug in.

He looked back at the table in time to see an Italian-looking boy with curly hair going over to talk to the group. A badge on his button down shirt which read 'MANAGER' caught his eye.

After a while, the group got up to leave, and Sam returned to watching his ass of a brother stuff himself with pizza. "So, did Dad call?"

Dean swallowed, picked up another piece and shook his head. "Not yet. I'll check in with him tonight, see if he needs any help."

"You think he'll tell you if he does?" Sam scoffed.

Dean ignored him, choosing to take another humongous bite of pizza. He had no intention of getting into the frequently brought-up discussion of Dad and his 'sucky authoritarian crap and fake tough-guy front'.

"So when does school start?" Dean said, changing the subject.

"Tomorrow," Sam said. "Which reminds me, we need to refuel so I can drive to school and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Dean waved his hands around to stop his brother. "You? Drive? Not happening."

"Dean!" Sam said, exasperated.

"Not. Happening." Dean repeated firmly. "I'll drive you. Not much to do here in freaking Apple-Pie Town anyway."

Sam just shook his head. Downing the last of his pizza, Dean got up, threw some money on the table and grabbed his jacket. "Let's get back, we don't want the maids to see the guns."

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