Sam took down the box, surprised at how heavy it was. He sneezed as he breathed in dust. There was a thick layer covering the lid, evidence of just how long it had been since anyone had bothered to look over the old files. He heaved the box out of the file room and to an empty conference room. Sighing, he took a sip of his coffee and started reading through the paperwork, searching for something-anything-that could give him some clue as to what it was he and Dean were up against.

"Dean! Get in here! You need to see this!" he called. He waited a minute, but Dean didn't come. He sighed and looked up from his paper, then grabbed his phone, sending off a quick text.

It wasn't long before Dean was in the room. "Where's the pie?" he asked.

Sam held back a smile. "There's not actually any pie. I just wanted you to come in here and that was the only way I could think to get you to come."

Dean glowered at him. "Bitch."

"Whatever, jerk. Just listen. I dug up the records form that case back in '58. Look. It's the same symbol exactly. It's the insignia of this cult. They did the first killing a week and a half before the full moon, the second one a few days later, and they were caught before they could kill the last victim. Apparently they believed that once they killed the third person on the night of the full moon, he would rise again. As the devil."

"Do people actually believe that crap? Makes me sick. How many days you think we have until they take their next vic?"

"Boys!" Hardy called, sticking his head into the room. "We need you. Now."

Sam looked over at Dean. "Based on that, I'm guessing none."

XXX

"Look, buddy. When the cops arrived at your house, you were standing in the middle of the room with blood on your hands and a bloody knife in your hand. It's not looking too good for you there. Just tell us who else is in the cult, and we can see about cutting you a deal," Sam said calmly, Dean pacing behind him.

Smith looked at him in bewilderment, his eyes red from crying. "Cult? What the hell are you talking about? You think I'm actually involved? You think I cut on my own girlfriend in my own house and then let a bunch of crazy people driver her off in a van?" He broke down into tears again. Dean rolled his eyes. "She was the love of my life. I can't believe this is happening…"

Sam stiffened. Suddenly, he was back there.

"I'm so sorry, Sam. I'm so, so sorry. But we've got a pretty good idea who did it, and we're going to find him."

"Sam!"

Sam jumped. Dean was staring at him, his face a mix of frustration and concern. Sam cleared his throat.

"C'mere," Dean said, taking him out of the interrogation room and into the hall.

"Look, are you up to this?" he asked in a low voice. "Because if you aren't, if this is hitting too close to home-"

"I'm fine Dean," Sam muttered, looking at the ground.

"Sammy," Dean said, and Sam looked him in the eye.

"I am fine," he insisted.

"Okay. Let's get back in there."

Smith was wringing his hands, legs bouncing, and his head shot up when they walked in.

"I can prove it!" he blurted before either detective had a chance to say anything. "I got the whole thing on video."

Dean frowned. "You what?"

"On my laptop, man. The whole thing. It'll prove that I didn't hurt Mindy, and maybe it'll help you find the sons of bitches that took her."

"What were you recording?" Sam asked.

Dean and Smith both looked at him, Smith's face getting a little red.

"Um, well…you know…you know…"

Sam suddenly realized what he meant, and flushed with embarrassment. "Oh. Geez. That's…oh."

Dean snorted, then turned to Smith. "Wouldn't out investigators have already found something?"

Smith shook his head. "No, no I highly doubt it. That laptop is Fort Knox. Bring it in here and I'll show you."

"You tell us what happened first," Sam said.

Smith nodded. "Well, Mindy and I were going to…but I kind of chickened out so I went in the bathroom to, you know, prepare myself emotionally and mentally. And while I was in there, I heard a car pull up and people come into the house. I came out, and three guys were already in the room. Mindy was unconscious and had blood running down both her arms and the last thing I saw was her limp in that guy's arms, and then someone hit me in the back of the head. When I came to, they were gone, and there was nothing left except for the bloody symbol on the wall and the knife." He was getting choked up again and he stopped. "Do you-do you think there's a chance she's still alive?" he whispered, before dissolving into tears.

"I'll go get the laptop," Dean said, deciding to let Sam deal with the crying man.

Sam glared at him, but Dean just shrugged.

Sam sighed and stood awkwardly for a second before saying, "I know what you're going through. My fiancé." He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to. It was a pretty well-known story. "But that's not gonna happen to Mindy. We'll find her. And whatever you have on that laptop is going to be a huge help. The men that did this are going to go down for it, we'll make sure of that."

Dean walked in, the laptop in his hands. "Here ya go," he said, setting it down in front of Smith. "Do your thing."

Smith nodded and opened it up, typing furiously for a moment before pulling up the video. "Watch."

Dean leaned over the table, watching the screen. "We need to get this to Eric in tech. He can clean it up, and we can get an APB out on these guys." He turned to Smith. "Look, there's gonna be another officer here who's gonna be asking you some other questions. Thanks so much for your patience and your help. Oh, and here." He took the handcuffs off of Smith's wrists. "You're not a person of interest anymore. You've been advanced to witness."

XXX

"Anything?" Dean asked Eric for the third time that afternoon.

"It's not that easy," Eric said, a little impatiently. "I'm doing the best I can. I think I'm almost…there! We've got a match on one of them, and I'm getting his info now!" He watched as things popped up on the screen in fast succession, eyes widening. "Holy shit. This guy has a serious rap sheet. Dean, this guy is bad news. I'm forwarding this to yours and Sam's phones."

"Eric! I knew you'd pull through for me!" Dean cried, hitting the back of his chair and leaving the room with a whoop.

Sam was already coming down the hall, scrolling through his phone. "Dean, that girl doesn't have much time. We've got to move now."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "Let's get a team and go over to the house. I doubt he's home, but we may be able to find something there."

XXX

Dean knocked on the door, the team of cops ready behind him with Kevlar on and guns out. There was no sound from in the house.

"Alright, let's do this."

They busted the door down and burst into the house, spreading out through the rooms, shouts of "Clear!" echoing from all over.

And then, a panicked cry: "Hanson!"

Dean and Sam rushed to where the shout had come from. Riggs, a rookie cop, was standing in the doorway of the garage.

Mindy was hanging from the rafters, the same symbols covering her skin that had been on Chrissie's body, and a stab wound in her chest. Blood dripped onto a puddle under her. There was a note on the ground.

"No," Dean breathed. Sam bent and picked up the note.

"'Lucifer is rising,'" he read aloud. "It has the symbol on the bottom."

"Son of a bitch. They knew we were coming," Dean muttered. "We've got to figure this out before the third victim is killed."

"How?"

"However we need to. This guy's a damn cocky son of a bitch, and that's what's gonna bring him down."

XXX

Chief Hardy came into the room. "You boys have been here for hours. It's almost midnight. You've had a long, rough day. Go home and get some sleep. That's an order."

Sam and Dean looked up, both obviously wanting to argue.

"No," Hardy said before they had the chance. "Go."

They finally relented.

"We'll get 'im tomorrow, Sam," Dean said tiredly as they walked out into the parking lot.

XXX

Sam looked over at his phone, puzzled as to who would be calling at three in the morning. It was Dean.

"Dean? You okay?"

"I can't sleep, Sammy. This case has got me all screwed up. I figured you're pretty used to this crap and I was thinking maybe you could come over for a beer or two. And to, you know…talk."

Sam frowned. "You wanna talk?"

"Well, yeah. And have beer."

"At three in the morning?"

"Sam, please," Dean said, and Sam heard a note of desperation in his voice that he'd never heard in all their years working together.

"Fine. I'll be right over."

He drove to his partner's house and walked up onto the porch, bracing himself to find Dean passed out drunk on the couch. He knocked on the door, only to find that it wasn't all the way shut. It swung open. The TV was on in another room, playing a rerun of Friends, but other than that the house was still.

"Dean?" Sam called. No answer.

So he was definitely going to find Dean passed out drunk on the couch.

He walked into the living room, but other than a few empty beer bottles and an issue of Busty Asian Beauties, there was no sign of Dean.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and he walked toward the back of the house where Dean's bedroom was. He pushed the door open and froze and stared at the wall.

"Dean."

There were four days until the full moon.

XXX

Again, huge break. Sorry! School's nearly out, and I should be able to upload stuff faster then. Also, I am addicted to Spider Solitaire, and I get distracted. I'm so sorry.

R&R pretty please!