October, 20th 2013

I don't own any of the characters, CW and Eric Kripke do!

Beta for this Chapter: Ashqtara

A/N: Hey there my loyal readers :)

Is it possible that they made it impossible to select text on this website? This really sucks?! wtf...

Anyway! Yay, new chapter! As you predicted, now it's going to take its own course and differ from the actual plot. Yay. Also, Something is happening that hasn't in the show...mh, wonder what that is ;P

Again encourage you to pay attention to the lyrics I'm posting with the chapter. I know most of you skip over them and I know that I do mostly too but they really do represent the mood of each chapter ^^. Give it a try ;)

Now please enjoy :3

Chapter 3

Below, my soul, I feel and engine.
Collapsing as it sees the pain.

Was he crazy? No, was he completely nuts?! Dean just went up to Zachariah and told him he wanted him dead, most possibly killed by his own boss. What was he up to, what in hell was he planning? His big brother was slammed against the wall by the angel now (second time today, mind you), trying to get free but still smiling this winning grin as if he owned the whole world. Then Zachariah finally snapped. He snarled and cursed –probably in Enochian and grabbed Dean's collar tight, drawing him closer to him but away from the wall.

"You listen to me. You are nothing but a maggot inside a worm's ass. Do you know who I am? After I deliver you to Michael?"

"Expandable." Dean countered, no fear in his eyes at all. He was going for it, believed he had nothing more to lose. Somehow, that was even scarier to Sam than his desperation just a minute before. But still, Zachariah just laughed. The rumbling was getting louder now.

"Michael's not gonna kill me." He said, completely sure of his words. The older Winchester still smiled, just as sure and it drove Zachariah back a step, frowning.

"Maybe not." He paused dramatically, turning the object in his hand around.

"But I am."

And he slammed the angel's blade from the floor right into Zachariah's jaw.

Light emitted from the eyes and the mouth of the dying angel just as it did from the created wound, flooding the room with a blinding white and Sam had to avert his eyes, assuming his brothers would do the same. When he could see again, Dean had stepped back, glanced down at the angel before him, lying on the floor with his limbs sprawled out to all sides and on the carpet of the beautiful room, spreading all the way to the wall and up were the prints of black wings, strangely beautiful against the white of the walls. Zachariah lay completely still and Dean was holding the blade, drenched in angel blood. He looked strange, standing there while light seemed to flood from the ceiling from above now, illuminating his stern face, the rumbling getting stronger and Dean seemed to be the only one able to still stand from the three of them. He looked up, his gaze strangely neutral while a loud, deafening noise sounded from the ceiling. Sam and Adam covered their ears but Dean just stared at the light as if it didn't faze him, as if he was listening...

No…no, he couldn't!

"Dean! We need to get out. You can't do this, come on! Please." He screamed over the noise. Dean looked over as if awakening from something and nodded, rushing over to Adam.

"Can you stand? Come on." Adam nodded and let his Half-brother help him up. Then Dean rushed over to Sam and put his arm over his own shoulder, making the way to walk out. They reached the door, Adam first and he reached out for the door knop.

The door was locked.

"Oh, Shit." Dean whispered. He let Sam take Adam, who felt like his stomach was still exploding and Dean tried to pull or push the door open, tried to kick it in but just fell down and when he got back up, the light was unbearable already and the noise felt like it would soon explode their ears. Dean stood up and looked at the ceiling again.

"Shit shit shit…open this door, you son of a bitch!" he cursed, again trying to open the door. Again, the light intensified and in the same moment that they had to look somewhere else, squint their eyes, Dean pushed open the door and stumbled outside. They pushed after him and all found themselves on the floor, groaning and mourning but kicking and not at all torched by an archangel. Sam looked down at himself and then over to Dean. He saw that the light was gone and the open door didn't lead to a beautiful room any more. Just the cupboard they had walked into. The hall around them seemed abandoned now, no angels, no nothing. Dean stood up slowly and helped his two brothers stand up themselves.

"Okay, what the hell happened?" he asked and just at those words, Sam felt like he wanted to hug his brother. He was still himself! No Michael there, no Zachariah anymore either and they even got Adam out. There had to be some luck left for him in this world. As soon as Adam stood, Sam smiled and hugged his big brother, gripping his shirt hard and closing his eyes.

"We did it. You're still yourself!" he exclaimed and Dean laughed a dry laugh, letting him go now. He told Adam where the car was and together they made their way out of the hall. Dean asked where Cas was and Sam had to explain to him what had happened, what Cas had done. Immediately, Dean stopped in his tracks, his expression sad, almost angry.

"That little bastard. Let's just pray he somehow made it out…" he said and Sam just nodded, dropping himself on the passenger seat while Adam sat in the back.

"So…where're you taking me? I can't just go home can I?" he asked, eyebrow lifted. Dean started the car and Sam took it he had to answer their half-brother.

"No, you can't. Michael or one of the angels might want to get to you, we'll get you back to Bobby's, it's safe there." He explained. Adam didn't say anything. He just nodded and then looked out the window, watching the landscape passing by while they left what had once been the beautiful room far, far behind them.

Adam stayed with Bobby for now. He had reluctantly accepted that it was pretty much the only option but as soon as the phase of self-loathing and stubbornness was over, he consented to help Bobby with the household, research work and even the cars. Everything was back to where it was before despite the fact that they were all worrying about Cas and where he went or if he was even alive. And then there was still this Apocalypse thing…

"Here. Lisa wanted you to call her." Sam tossed Dean his phone the morning after their near-Michael experience. Dean caught it and frowned.

"Lisa? Wait-" he narrowed his gaze. "You talked to her?" Sam nodded at that.

"Cas and I followed your trail and she said you were visiting her. She seemed pretty churning, worried. What were you thinking, even telling her anything about this?" the younger Winchester didn't sound accusing, just curious. Dean stared at the phone in his hands, not daring to look at his younger brother.

"I…just wanted to see her again. Maybe even Ben…it's just that…I thought…-Oh forget it!" He huffed and threw the phone on the driver's seat of the Impala through the open door, then turned around to go to the trunk and stuff his duffle into it. They had gotten a hint for a hunt a couple of hours away and were preparing to leave soon. Sam lifted an eyebrow but smiled. He suspected what Dean had wanted to say. That he always thought that maybe one day, Lisa and him could stay together, that when this was all over, he could maybe go to her, to Ben and just…live. But the younger Winchester also knew that Dean thought that was impossible. And that he had wanted to just see her again, to picture it or to ensure that at least she could survive this. Sam hadn't forgotten that time they had taken the Dreamroot and Lisa had turned up in Dean's dreams, dressed in a white dress, waiting for him to join her for a picnic…

"You really should call her. I bet she's worried sick." Sam said, interrupting Dean in his packing and the uncomfortable silence he had thrown over them. Dean just stopped in his movements for a second, then continued as if nothing happened. He walked over to the front of the car, smiling a fake smile.

"Come on, Sammy, really? She doesn't care about me that much. I'm just the guy who turned up and rescued her child once, she's not worried sick about me." And with those words he dropped himself into the car and started the motor, leaving Sam little time to jump in himself before he just drove off. They had said goodbye to Adam and Bobby already, the two of them were in the living room, Bobby had decided to teach Adam a thing or two about Mythology and monsters, since they now couldn't really keep Adam from being dragged in. He already was. So it wouldn't hurt him to know his stuff when another situation actually did occur.

Right now inside the Impala, Sam wanted to protest, wanted to tell his brother that he was mistaken, that Lisa did care for him. The younger Winchester had been able to see it in her eyes, heard it in the way she talked about him, how she had to stop herself from saying more and blushed and how she had practically pleaded him to get Dean out of this alive. Well, he had. Now would be the time for him to call her and tell her he was okay. But of course he wouldn't. Not when Sam was watching, he wouldn't give him that satisfaction. Sam stared over to Dean while he drove and had to frown. Something was off about his face…it took him a while to notice but soon, Sam lifted an eyebrow.

"Dean…where are the cuts you just had yesterday? The ones from Cas' beating?" sure, they had been very small but still there. Now they just…vanished. As if there had never been anything there. Dean frowned.

"What do you mean, they're still- Oh wow. Weird." He had looked into the rearview mirror and blinked in surprise. His fingers stroked over the spots where the wounds had been but finally, he just shrugged.

"Don't know. I always healed pretty fast though. Maybe I just had a very good night's rest. I did sleep like a stone somehow. Eight hours is more than I got in a while." He said and smiled at his brother, who was still frowning but didn't say anything else. After a while of going through possible explanations, the hunter just shrugged it off and got out John Winchester's notebook, flipping through the pages while the road flew by the window.

~.~.~.~

They stopped at a motel when the sun was long set and Dean was just paying the room like always, when something strange happened. He heard whispering, like somebody was standing behind him and talking very quietly into his ear. He had had it on the road too but dismissed it as part of the loud music that he maybe hadn't heard before because he hadn't turned it up quite that loud. But this time there was no music and the creepy whispering was considerably louder. The older Winchester whirled around quickly, startling the woman on the counter.

"Oh boy, don't scare me like that. You alright, honey?" she asked. She was already old but seemed kind and Dean had seen the rooms, they were old but nice too, taken care of over the years. He shook his head, turned back around to face her. He saw in the mirror behind her that he looked white as a sheet. Were there ghosts here? He had to check out the EMF when he was back in the room. He quickly told the woman he was just fine and returned to Sam.

"Dude, where's the EMF meter?", Dean asked as he searched through his duffel. Sam pointed on the table next to him, where it was placed next to his laptop.

"Why? You think we have a ghost in this motel?", he asked with a serious tone. To normal people this sentence would have been sarcasm but to Sam and Dean Winchester that was a completely serious question. Dean shook his head.

"I don't know, I thought I heard something, like trees in the wind-" he paused, because there were the voices again. Whirling around, he ran for the EMF meter and pointed it in the direction for the voices. He glanced at his brother.

"There. Did you hear that? Exactly like that." He pointed around to where the voices where shortly before they retrenched again. His head began to hurt and he sat down, suddenly exhausted, and rubbed his head. Sam frowned at him.

"I didn't hear anything." He listened to the noise of the EMF meter. "EMF is quiet too. Dean, are you alright?" Sam leaned forward to look into his brother's face. Dean stared at the table and at the paperwork his little brother had spread over it. It all swam around for a moment, getting all blurry before there were voices again, this time clearer. A kind of noise was in the background, blending out everything else around him. He held his head in pain as the words seemed to strike his mind like a stick. white light was suddenly blinding him and the voice flooded into him like a dam had broken..

"General?"

"My prince? Where are you?"

"My Lord, your assistance is required. Meet me at the garden , if you please."

"General?!"

"General are you there?"

"Hello, General?"

"General!"

"- get some rest." He heard Sam finish his sentence. The rest of it had been drowned in the many voices. His head was swimming, his vision still blurred, when suddenly, everything went clear. Crystal clear in fact. Every little mark in the table was visible, every normally not visible scar on his skin…The hunter looked up and saw his brother's face full of concern.

"Sorry, what?" he asked, blinking. The voices were gone now, as if somebody had turned off a switch. Maybe he had done it himself out of annoyance, he wasn't quite sure right now. Who the hell would be called general? He knew no general and he was also pretty sure that no ghost would call for somebody like that. Oh no, was he going psychic? That couldn't be good. But…how? He certainly didn't drink any demon blood as far as he knew. Sam broke him out of his thoughts.

"I said maybe you should get some rest. You seem to have quiet the headache..." His younger brother suggested. Dean only listened to him with half an ear. There was something going on here and he didn't know what. And it was driving him crazy. But despite the fact that he had driven them across the country all day, the hunter didn't feel tired. Like, at all. So he just shook his head, standing up.

"No, I'm fine, Sam. I'll just take a walk to clear my head. You do the research on the job. What was it, a vampire nest?" Sam nodded at him but his forehead was still in a frown. Dean left the room, grabbing his leather jacket –that was thankfully back with him- and slammed the door shut behind him. Out in the fresh air, he breathed in deeply, lifting his hand. He could see every little line, details he had never noticed before. And when his gaze lifted, he could see clearly. It was night. How could he see this well? This wasn't normal. Was he turning vampire? But they hadn't met any Vampires lately. What the fuck was wrong with him?

"I need a drink. Yup, definitely a drink." He mumbled and with these words he left the motel on foot, in search for a bar of any kind.

~.~.~.~

Finally dropping into a chair at a nearby bar, Dean sighed deeply. His sight alone had crept him out on the way here but now his hearing had started to act up, too. He could hear the two people in the corner on the other side of the bar whispering things nobody should probably hear about and he could hear the cars rushing about outside the closed doors as if he was standing next to the road. Deep breaths were taken and he tried to calm himself. He was not turning vampire, the hunter tried to reassure himself. He hadn't met any. It wasn't possible. Sam would know if some fucking vampire had bled into his mouth, right? So what the hell?

As if he didn't have enough problems already. The freaking Apocalypse was going on, his brother was supposed to be Satan's promride, his father figure was stuck to a fucking wheelchair, his half-brother had returned from the dead and immediately walked into an angel trap. Of course, he was fine now but that didn't guaranty anything as far as his experience went. Oh and then there was Cas…the bastard wasn't answering his damn phone. Or any prayers, for that matter. And he had tried that far too often for him to admit out loud to anybody he knew. Sam had told him what had happened of course, with the sigil and all. Maybe Dean just didn't want to believe it. He couldn't just be…dead. Right? And now this strange thing was happening. Sam would just freak out if he told him about all this. He would probably think the angels messed with him or Lucifer did and the older Winchester didn't want to upset his little brother any further. He knew the guy already had too much on his mind to add a brother to the list who heard strange voices and had vampire senses or whatever. If Cas would be here right now he should be able to tell him what the hell was going on with him, right? After all, the angel always knew stuff like that. Even if last time he saw him the guy tried to personally punch him back to hell. Not that he didn't deserve it…

"Can I get you something?" a voice jolted him out of his thoughts. The bar keeper stood there, all beardy and chewing gum, rubbing dirt off a glass he had apparently planned to clean. Dean was used to bars like this, dirty and filthy for most parts, so he didn't really bother.

"I don't care what, but something strong.", he said, holding his head against the freaking headache that was going on. On his way here it had begun to come in some kind of waves, washing over him and resulting in a kind of buzzing in his ears and swimming of his vision before both returned to such clarity that it seemed almost unnatural. His sight hadn't been this good before, had it? No, he was pretty sure that he had never been able to make out every pixel on a television at the other side of the room. The world seemed so…clear.

"Here ya go. This'll do wonders against that headache of yours." The barkeeper gave him a black-toothed grin and dropped two glasses of clear liquid in front of him. Something about his grin was off-putting but Dean ignored it. He just needed some alcohol right now. So he drowned the two drinks with a single swing for each and grimaced in preparation for the strong taste that would burn down his throat. But…nothing happened. He didn't feel a thing from it at all. Dumbfounded, the older Winchester stared down at the now empty glass and felt his throat with his rough fingers. Had that bastard handed him water? Strange…or was he already that used to the taste? Okay that was just sad. Another sigh escaped his lips and he looked up to the bartender again.

"Another one." He said, his voice slightly annoyed. To his puzzlement the bartender just stared at him, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. Dean frowned.

"What? Didn't you hear me? Another one." The guy just shook his head.

"Dude, there was like…half a bottle of roofies in there. How are you still awake?" he asked. Immediately, Dean's eyes narrowed. His hand flew to his gun and he glared at the bartender while standing up from his seat very slowly.

"And why were you drugging my drink?" he asked, his tone very calm and collected. His trained fingers found the gun in his jeans plus his finger around the trigger and he waited for the answer, already flexing the muscles he might need to point and shoot. But the bartender just smiled.

"Oh, that gun won't help you. But to answer your question…" his smile grew wider and with a small shock, Dean saw how fangs –sorry, a second pair of teeth- grew out of his mouth, in comparison to the black human teeth, these were white and cared for, probably tested out on every poor human who stayed here too long.

"We're quite hungry.", the Vampire said, tilting his head in this strange way that Lilith once had the first time they actually met her. It unwillingly sent a little shiver down Dean's spine.

And as he watched, all around him more fangs were drawn. Next to him there had been a man that looked around thirty. He was grabbing for Dean's leather jacket now and the hunter acted out of reflex and shot him right between the eyes. Of course, it had no effect. The man just hissed and the bullet made him fly back but he was up on his feet again in no time. All around him there was laughing and the bartender chuckled now.

"A hunter. We actually managed to get ourselves a hunter. How…refreshing." the man said, his voice had suddenly changed to a somehow Victorian tone, making him sound way different from what he was appearing as. Watching all the fangs bared around him, Dean got out the demon knife from his jacket and stepped back. If he couldn't have a proper knife or dead man's blood, this would have to do. A grin formed on his face. He was surrounded by vampires, a whole bunch of them. Maybe fifteen, twenty even?

"Well, Sam, you can skip the research this time. I think I found our nest…" he mumbled before the first monster flung itself at him.

~.~.~.~

Below, my soul, I feel and engine
Collapsing as it sees the pain
If I could only shut it out
I've come, too far, to see the end now
Even if my way is wrong
But I keep pushing on and on and on

and on

~ Nothing left to say, Imagine Dragons

Yeaaaah...I'm tired. But I do hope there IS something left to say now and that would be a review? Please? *Sam's puppydog eyes*

You have to tell me if you like this, even if it's really short. It'll help me, promise :)