It was a normal routine hunt.

That was what Sam wanted to believe.

That was what Sam needed to believe.

That was not what Sam would believe.

The nest of vampires they had tracked was bigger then they thought.

Dean had guessed 4 or 5.

Dean had laughed about how easy it would be.

Dean had just been slammed into a wall.

"Sonovabitch," He groaned, rolling away from a vamp.

There were at least 10 vamps. Possibly even more.

"We need to retreat!" Sam yelled.

"No way," Dean said, as he hacked at a vamp, "We leave, they'll leave and we'll miss taking these guys down!"

"Dean we're going to die!" Sam yelled.

"Sammy look out!" Dean yelled.

Sam turned to his left as a female vamp lunged at him. He swung his machete expertly, slicing her neck cleanly.

He instinctively turned away from the blood spray and raced through a doorway.

The two brothers were in an old farm in California. A small town nestled between two mountains that had been victimized by a sudden rash of disappearances.

The boys had suspected vamps.

The boys had not suspected this many vamps.

Dean jumped over a table, fleeing a vampire as Sam gestured him into the abandoned kitchen.

Dean swung the machete again, beheading another vampire.

Sam adjusted his grip on his own machete and braced himself as a vampire stalked forward, flashing his deadly needle like teeth.

Suddenly the vamp stood up straight, cocking his head. The other vamps quieted, huddled in the doorway.

Just as Dean was about to say something a light shone through the dirty window.

The brothers looked to the new sight as the window shattered and several figures swept in. The boys were rooted in place in shock as a battle erupted.

The figures wore dark shirts and pants, some with heavy jackets and all wielded long silver machetes, swords and daggers. The boys quickly jumped back into the fray joining the obvious hunters in dispatching the vamps.

The tides had changed in their favor.

With what Sam guessed to be four more hunters, the vamps were quickly killed.

"Man," Dean sighed as he stood up, "That was incredible."

"Thanks for coming," Sam said, sheathing his weapon in his belt loop, "We were almost goners."

"Almost," Dean emphasized.

"No thanks needed," A girl spoke, coming into the light that streamed through the broken window.

She wore black jeans and a T shirt with a snugly fit leather jacket. Dean could see she was strong and well toned. He saw the shine of blood of her clothes and her boots but other then her moppy black hair, the girl seemed to be excited and cheerful.

"We were going to hit these guys tomorrow but you beat us to it."

"I'm Sam, my brother Dean," Sam extended a hand, "Nice to meet you."

"Winchesters I know," She smiled, shaking his hand, "Eriana, you can call me Eri. We've actually been meaning to come find you."

"Find us?" Dean asked.

"We've all heard how Sam beat the Devil himself," She explained, "Of course you starting the Apocalypse was kind of bad but it got me into this so it comes out as a wash."

"I'm so sorry," Sam grimaced, once again hating how he had caused so much wanton destruction by killing Lilith.

"Not a problem," Eri rolled her green hair, "I love this stuff so it's ok."

"Wait, you're telling me you like hunting?" Dean asked, "Where have you been all my life?"

Eri laughed.

It wasn't a high pitched tinkling laugh either. It was a deep joyous laugh that echoed against the old wood.

"I've been working, hunting." She winked, "You guys have a place to crash?"

"Ya we got a hotel a town over," Sam said.

"Well if you guys need a place to clean up, you can come over to or place," She shrugged, "You'd love it."

Dean glanced at Sam who shrugged.

The group had saved their skins, no matter how much bravado Dean put out.

"We'll follow you back," Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Alright," She smiled, her white teeth shining in the shadows, "Let's move."

The brothers, Eri and her team, named Teresa, Jackie and Patrick all walked out of the farmhouse.

"Impala," Eri nodded, "Impressive,"

"Who owns the Camaro?" Dean asked, motioning to a cheery red 1968 Chevy Camaro.

"That would be me," Eri smiled.

"We got the van," Patrick, a blonde kid piped up.

"Ya ya whatever," Dean waved him off, "What do you got under the hood?"

"Nothing fancy," She shrugged, "409 V8."

Dean whistled in appreciation of the big motor.

"We got a 502," He said.

"Nice," Eri nodded, "You're defenitly going to have to race that down the block for me."

"You bet," Dean grinned.

They got into their respective cars, and cruised away from the destroyed nest. In the Impala, to the background of Metallica, Dean and Sam talked.

"Eri. Is she in any of Dad's notes?" Dean asked.

"Not that I can see, but you know Dad's handwriting," Sam mused, flipping through the worn pages, "Plus she became a hunter after Lucifer."

"Ya," Dean nodded, "Wonder what happened,"

"Nothing good I'm sure of it," Sam pressed his lips together as they followed the square tail lights of Eri's Camaro.

After a good 35 minutes of driving, Dean was about to yell out the window for how much longer, when the Camaro pulled off the highway onto an unmarked dirt exit.

Sam traded a glance with his brother as they pulled up to a fence and gate.

They watched as the black van with Patrick and the two girls rolled through then the Camaro. They pulled forward cautiously, Dean already gripping his pistol just in case of a trap.

They met with no resistance or signs of people as they crawled into a tunnel that lead into a mountainside. The other two cars parked in a lot full of cars ranging from big black vans to lifted trucks to classic cars and modern sports cars and even motorcycles.

The brothers climbed out of the car and joined the other hunters as they walked towards an elevator.

"So I gotta know," Eri spoke, "How long?"

"Hunting? Since our mother..." Dean bit his lip, he hated to talk about his mother and her grisly death.

"Our whole lives," Sam finished.

"Great!" She smiled, "So you can help us organize better. I mean we did a pretty good job but you know, some of this stuff, no one has any idea what it is."

"What?" Dean asked.

They got inside the elevator and Sam felt it drop. He looked to the right, noticing the walls of the elevator were glass and on the other side was rock.

"Well Henry Winchester was in the book and everyone knows about John," Patrick said.

"Is it true that he overcame a demon possessing him?" Jackie, a short blonde girl asked.

"I heard he did 2 dozen salt and burns in one weekend," Teresa said, "Back to back. A major haunting."

"We would have loved to have him," Patrick gushed, "But I guess he couldn't hold off a demon forever."

"How did it happen exactly?" Eri asked, "I've heard rumors..."

"It's none of your business," Dean snapped, uncomfortable with the celebrity status of his dad and the fact that he had given up his life for Dean.

"Wait a minute," Sam said, "You said Henry Winchester? What do you know about our grandfather?"

"Well he did disappear," Jackie said, "It makes sense you wouldn't know what he did."

"From what I know, John didn't start hunting until he was in his mid 20s," Patrick said, "Maybe Henry never told him either and he just found out."

"Found out what?" Dean growled as the rock outside the elevator began to shrink.

"You really don't know," Eri smiled as she shook her head, "Wow."

"Know what?" Sam asked, annoyed now.

"Holy crap," Dean gaped as the rock finally vanished revealing what was below.

It was a bunker. Like their own, but bigger and modernized.

The brothers practically kissed the glass as they stared in amazement.

People, dozens of them milled around the center room, working and talking.

In the center of the room was a huge world map, with various blinking lights. Chairs were scattered around it and some people were taking notes by watching the map.

Plastered over the walls were big screens that flashed with different maps of different countries and states, news stories ran parallel to the images and other people took more notes from there.

Through an archway, Sam saw a training room with mats and weight equipment. He watched as people practiced hand to hand combat, some were highly skilled in martial arts while others were simply brawlers.

On the other side of the center room was the biggest library that Dean had ever seen. Easily twice the size of their own, which was saying a lot. Books were crammed into the shelves, spiraling high while a long counter of computers ran down the center. He watched in fascination as people grabbed books and made their way to tables that towered with more books and information.

The boys looked back to the center room as the elevator stopped and walked out, shocked at the sight.

At the back of the room, beyond the map table were two spiral stairways, curling up to a second level where people ran back and forth between what seemed like offices. Between the stairways, there was a hallway that lead even farther into the bunker.

The boys recognized the protection sigils that were carved into the walls. They had covered almost anything and everything, from demons, to ghosts to monsters.

The bunker was completely restored, unlike the one they had found only a few weeks ago, it was clear that this bunker had been running for a long time uninterrupted.

"You two are legacies," Eri smiled as she jolted the boys out of their shock, "This is the bunker where all the magic is made. Where the men of letters reside."