A/N: Thank you to Starlight7Aussie for reviewing this story. Very much appreciated.

Here's part 1 to Pilot. Thanks to KiriNoMiko for Beta-ing this for me.

Just so you don't get confused, the italics after the third line of zeros are not from my P.O.V. I guess you could say they're from a narrating P.O.V. There will be a few of those throughout all my stories. Just to give you a head's up.

Chapter 1: Pilot part 1.

Dumbfounded, I stare into Dean's eyes; my mouth refusing to let me speak.

"Are you alright?" Dean repeats, looking me over to make sure I'm not hurt. He takes in my white long johns, and my white t-shirt, the items of clothing that I was planning on wearing to bed.

"Dean? Can I talk to you?" Sam asks, pulling on Dean's elbow. Reluctantly, Dean obeys and Sam pulls him back, to where he thinks I'm out of earshot, I can still hear what they're saying.

"Dean, I think this girl must have been sleepwalking." Sam says, looking back at me. I turn my head away, and make it look like I can't hear them.

"What makes you say that?" Dean asks, following Sam's gaze.

Sam continues. "She's wearing long johns and a t-shirt, and it looks like she's been sleepwalking. Dude, we can't leave her here, we have to find out where she lives and take her home."

After a few minutes of silence, Dean reluctantly agrees.

Both he and Sam walk back over to me, and Sam helps me up. The ass of my long johns is damp from being on the ground.

"Where do you live?" Sam asks, and knowing that I probably have to stay with the two of them in order to get home, I start to fake a panic, and start being frantic. I have to lie to get them to let me come with them.

"You have to help me!" I say, grabbing onto Sam's sleeve, and looking around me.

"What's wrong?" Sam asks, putting his free hand on my back for comfort. Dean looks suspicious.

"He's gonna kill me! Please, don't let him kill me!" I scream, burying my face in my hands. Wow, I'm good.

"Who's gonna kill you?" Dean asks, coming towards me, and putting his hand behind his back. Obviously he has his gun in his belt.

Looking back up into Sam's face, I make myself have tears in my eyes, and try to look serious.

"Some guy, he's about six feet with short dark hair." I say, doing my best to describe the demon that killed their mother. "But, his eyes..." I continue, knowing that mentioning eyes being a colour they're not supposed to be will get Sam and Dean's attention.

"What about his eyes?" Dean asks, hand clutching even tighter on his gun. I lie about the colour of Azazel's eyes, because they've never met a demon with yellow eyes.

"Black. They were black. Even the whites of his eyes." I say, letting the tears flow freely. "I...I think he was a demon!"

Sam and Dean exchange knowing looks, and Sam holds me in a tight embrace.

"She has to come with us Dean." Sam says, rubbing my back while I continue to let the crocodile tears flow.

Dean stands stunned, still looking at me, and still with his right hand behind his back.

"Dean!" Sam shouts, getting his older brother's attention. "She has to come with us. Dad will know what to do."

"Okay." Dean says, coming back to his senses. He lets go of his gun, and starts to walk towards the Impala. Sam pulls me with him, not letting me go until I'm sitting in the backseat of Dean's car. Sam rides shotgun.

Dean starts the car, and we head off towards Jericho, California.

"I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my older brother Dean." Sam turns around and says to me ten minutes later. I sniffle and wipe away the fake tears.

"I'm Judith Blair. Nice to meet you." I reply, holding out my hand, which Sam shakes.

Dean holds out his hand too, but doesn't take his eyes off the road. I shake Dean's hand, and try not to shiver with excitement.

"So...you said a guy was after you?" Dean says, still looking at the road ahead, but chances a glance at me through the rear view mirror.

"He wasn't a man, he was a demon." I reply dryly, looking out the window at the dark road, where there seems to be no life. Not surprised as it's after two in the morning.

Sam and Dean exchange looks, which I don't miss.

"You guys think I'm nuts right?" I ask, knowing full well that they don't.

"No, you're not nuts." Sam says, turning around, and holding my hand. I never knew Sam was such a gentleman. "We actually believe in that. You see, we're hunters. We hunt demons – among other things."

"Why do you think this demon's after you?" Dean asks, cutting Sam off with a look.

"He didn't say exactly." I lie, trying my best to sound convincing. The truth would sound even more nuts than a demon. "He just said that I have information that he wants."

"What kind of information?" Sam asks, looking quickly at Dean and back again.

"I don't know. I don't know anything." I deliberately make my voice break at the last word.

"Where do you live?" Dean asks, glancing at me in the rear view mirror again.

"Would you believe me if I told you I'm from Ireland?" I say, watching Dean's eyes pop open wide at my answer.

"What do you mean? Did you come to America for a vacation?" Sam asks, equally as shocked as Dean.

"No, I've never been here before. I didn't get here by plane either. I was just sitting on my bed, at home in Northern Ireland, watching a DVD, when the lights started to flicker, and this black smoke surrounded me. When I woke up, I was in a ditch, and that demon was leering over me. That's when he told me he was a demon and I had information he wanted. I managed to knee him in the groin and ran. I tripped once I got to the road, and that's when you guys came along."

Sam and Dean say nothing, they just look at each other and then at me.

Ten minutes later, the inside of the car is silent, but the Impala herself is roaring, and is lulling me into a stupor. I yawn, and close my eyes, but open them very quickly again. The action doesn't go unnoticed by Dean.

"Why don't you put your head down and go to sleep?" He suggests. I look to my left, and see Dean's familiar brown leather jacket lying on the seat beside me. I put my head on Dean's jacket, and breathe in Dean's scent, which is an odd mix of cologne, old leather and the smell of someone who spends every other meal in a diner. Within minutes, I'm asleep.

0o0o0o0o

When I wake up, it's daylight outside, and the Impala has almost arrived in Jericho. A few minutes later and Dean pulls the Impala into a gas station. He gets out of the car, and starts to pump gas. While he's filling up the tank, he goes into the store. Sam has opened his door, and has his legs out. He's rifling through a box which contains Dean's music.

"Morning." I say to Sam, yawning. Sam looks around and smiles at me.

"Good morning. How did you sleep?" He asks, indicating the small backseat.

"Really well. It's a lot more comfortable than it looks." I say, sitting up. I take off my glasses and rub the sleep out of my eyes.

Just then Dean comes back with bars of chocolate and a couple of bottles of juice. He stops to pull out the gas pump and put it back.

"Hey, you want breakfast?" He says, waving the bars and bottles. I reach out the window and take a Hershey bar.

"No thanks." Sam says to Dean. "So how'd you pay for that stuff? You and dad still running credit card scams?" At this, I stop eating my Hershey bar, and just look at Sam amused, but don't say anything.

"Yeah well…hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career. Besides, all we do is apply, it's not our fault they send us the cards." Dean walks back to the car and opens the door.

"Yeah and what names did you write on the application this time?" Sam asks, just as Dean climbs back into the car.

"Uh…Bert Aframian and his son, Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal." Dean smiles back at me, and I just give him an amused smile back.

"Sounds about right. I swear man; you gotta update your cassette-tape collection." Sam says, still flipping through the box with Dean's tapes.

"Why?" Dean asks, sounding and looking scandalised.

"Well for one they are cassette tapes, and two," Sam picks up a few tapes. "Black Sabbath? Motörhead? Metallica? It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"There's nothing wrong with Classic Rock!" I pipe up from the back seat, which earns a huge smile from Dean, and a shocked look from Sam. Dean snatches the last tape from Sam, and pops it into the tape deck.

"House rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole." At this, AC/DC's Back In Black starts to play. I giggle at Dean's remark.

"You know Sammy is a chubby 12-year old. It's Sam, okay?" Dean turns up the music before answering.

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you. The music's too loud!" And with that, Dean pulls out of the gas station with the music blaring. After a few minutes I see a sign reading "Jericho: 7 miles". I smile at Sam's annoyance at Dean.

0o0o0o0o0o

Ten minutes later, we arrive in Jericho. Sam has been talking on his phone for the past five minutes. He hangs up, and sighs.

"All right, so there's no one matching dad at the hospital or morgue, so that's something, I guess."

"Hey guys?" I say from the backseat. I point in front of us.

Dean slows the car to a cruise and we spot an old bridge with a couple of police cars on it, a few police officers are walking around the bridge. They're checking out a small blue car.

Dean drives the slowing car onto the bridge before coming to a stop.

"Check it out." He says, before opening a box and rummaging through it. He picks up a couple of fake , and shows them to Sam. "Let's go." He opens the door and climbs out of the car.

"You'd better stay here." Sam says to me before getting out of the car himself. As he closes the door he adds, "And stay low." With that the door closes with a snap. I watch the two of them approach the police officers, and then sit on the backseat floor, with my head against the door, and one of Sam's jackets over my head. I can picture in my head exactly what's going on.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

One of the policemen is standing at the railing of the bridge and shouts down to the two divers.

"Did you guys find anything?" One of the divers looks up before answering.

"No! Nothing!"

Another police officer is giving the abandoned car a thorough check. There's blood on one of the windows.

"No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints. Spotless, it's almost too clean." He tries to look for some kind of evidence he thinks is there, but clearly isn't.

An African-American police officer, who looks like the second in command, is checking the car out also.

"So this kid Troy, he's dating your daughter isn't he?" He asks the policeman.

"Yeah." He answers sadly.

"How's Amy doing?" The Lieutenant asks, sympathetically.

"She's putting up missing posters downtown."

"You fella's had another one just like this last month, didn't ya?" Dean asks

Both he and Sam walk up to the Lieutenant.

"Who are you?" The Lieutenant asks.

Dean flips open a wallet with his fake ID and a US Marshall Badge.

"Federal Marshals."

"You two are a little young for Marshals, aren't you?" The Lieutenant asks suspiciously.

Dean chuckles. "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you. You did have another one just like this correct?"

"Yeah, about a mile up the road. There have been others before that."

"So this victim, you knew him?" Sam asks. The Lieutenant nods his consent.

"In a town like this, everybody knows everybody."

Dean starts circling the car, and notices the blood on the window.

"Any connections between the victims, besides that they're all men?"

"No, not so far as we can tell." The Lieutenant seems as though he wishes the connection was right there.

"So...what's the theory?" Sam asks, walking towards Dean, who's standing behind the car.

"Honestly? We don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?" Clearly the Lieutenant doesn't know anything about why the murders have taken place.

"Well that is exactly the kind of crack police work that I'd expect out of you guys." Dean says, only to have Sam, scandalized, stomp on his foot.

"Thank you for your time." Sam says, and he looks at the other police men. "Gentlemen." He and Dean start to walk away, as the policemen watch them leave. Once out of hearing distance, Dean smacks Sam on the back of the head.

"OW! What was that for?" Sam snaps

"Why do you have to step on my foot?" Dean snaps back.

"Why do you have to talk to police like that?" Sam snaps back. He goes to walk off, when Dean grabs his arm and stops him.

"Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean if we're gonna find dad we've gotta get to the bottom of this thing ourselves." Dean says. Sam looks behind Dean's shoulder and back, clearing his throat in the process.

Dean turns around and sees the Sheriff standing behind him. Beside the Sheriff are two real Federal Marshals.

"Can I help you boys?" The Sheriff asks.

"No sir, we were just leaving." Dean says to the Sheriff. And to the two Federal Marshals, he says "Agent Mulder, Agent Scully." He nods to them each, before walking off with Sam behind him.

The Sheriff watches them until they leave.

0o0o0o0o

A/N:So...what did you guys think? Please leave a nice review. If you didn't like this chapter, or story, please do not review! I'm not holding a shotgun to anyone's head and forcing you to review! If you don't have anything nice to say about this story, don't say anything at all! I've had too many flames saying that my story was shit.

If you want to give me a few pointers, then please, by all means, leave me a review, but be nice about it, I spent ages writing this story, so the least people can do is to be nice to me. I've never left a review for any story I didn't like, I just stopped reading it, and looked for another one to read.

Thank you, and sorry if I was being nasty, but I'm sick to the back teeth with flamers, they're just a waste of space, and 99.9 percent of them don't even have stories of their own, so I don't see why they have to be nasty to other people's stories when they don't even have any of their own!