When Dean wasn't back by dawn, Sam didn't think anything of it. His brother had probably hooked up with a girl and was now lying around in the chick's bed, sexually sated and completely hung over. It wasn't until noon that he began getting a little antsy regarding Dean's absence. He called Dean's phone and got voice mail. He called several times in fact, each time getting the same result. Finally, when Oprah came on at four, Sam decided he'd better get off his ass and go see what trouble his womanizing sibling had gotten himself into this time.

They were running pretty even on the scale of "pulled your ass out of the fire didn't I" incidents at the moment. Sam hoped Dean wasn't in any sort of trouble, but he put a mark up on his side of the tally board anyway just because he had to go check things out. He was still pretty confident that Dean was just mad at him and thought making Sam sweat it out would teach him a lesson. The argument had been stupid anyway. They'd fought over who was going to pay for dinner. Who paid for dinner ultimately got to choose what dinner would be, and Sam felt it was his turn. Being rather short of temper lately, he had been a little forceful, and more than a little obnoxious when stating his case.

In short, he'd pulled the "I'm way smarter than you therefore I am always right" card by throwing out some vocabulary words Dean had never encountered before. This type of snobbery was already guaranteed to get under Dean's skin, but when Sam flat out called him stupid and refused to continue the (argument) conversation, Dean went ballistic. Dean going ballistic incited Sam to shove some splinters up under his brother's nails by suggesting that their current case was going nowhere due to some fault of Dean's.

As they suspected it was where their father currently called home, and it was possible Sam was destined to go there himself, it was obvious Dean had been pushed too far when he told Sam to "go to hell," and stomped out the door.

Sam immediately felt guilty but stubbornly refused to go off in pursuit. Now, as he quizzed the bar employees regarding Dean's whereabouts, he regretted that decision. He should have followed his brother out and apologized.

One of the bartenders said he saw Dean in the company of a tall red-headed woman. They'd left together. He thought they'd turned right as they'd exited the door. One of the waitresses chuckled as she recounted seeing the two making out in the alley as she left after her shift.

"Do you know who she was?" Sam asked.

"Nah. Never seen her in here before. She's probably a guest over there at the ho-tel."

He'd have to quiz the desk clerks then, find out what room the girl occupied. It was there, no doubt, where he'd find his brother. Sam issued his thanks and left the bar. He did intend to go back to the hotel, but decided to check out the alley where the waitress had seen Dean making out with his conquest. It was just a hunch. Sam remained convinced Dean was curled up next to his woman in one of the hotel rooms, sleeping off a few rounds of Jack Daniels.

The alley was narrow, and surprisingly clean. Sam stepped around the corner and gave it a once over. He didn't know what he expected to find.

The bricks making up the wall of the bar were painted a pale, cream color. Sam's eye caught some odd markings on them. A keen observer used to searching for sigils and glyphs, charms and curses, he first thought they were some sort of writing. Upon closer inspection he saw they were nothing but smudges.

Reaching out a finger, he scraped a bit of color off with his nail. He thought the dark smudges looked familiar, and as he sniffed at the material he knew he was correct. The smudges were smears of blood. It was fresh too. Not good.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered.

He turned around, dropping his gaze toward the ground. There was more blood, a lot more blood, some of it scuffed and smeared as if someone had stepped in it, or as if they had been trying to hide it. Sam looked around the perimeter of the smudges and saw a series of drops. They arced around and doubled back out of the alley. He followed them out onto the sidewalk, down two blocks, and around a corner where they led up to the curb in front of a parking meter. That's where they ended. Whoever had been bleeding must have gotten into a car. It hadn't been the Impala either. Dean's car was still parked in front of the hotel and Sam had the keys.

Sam went back to the alley. He dropped down to a crouch and pulled a small flashlight from his pocket. He searched around upon the pavement for a good five minutes before he found what he really hadn't wanted to find. As he picked it up he groaned miserably.

"Ah, shit, Dean."

It was a fang.

The vampire had found them, and it had his brother.

Tucking the tooth and his flashlight back into his pocket, Sam stood up and stared at the smears of blood on the wall. He turned his head to follow the pattern of dots that led out of the alley. Dean had been bleeding when he was taken. That was good. He had been alive.

How long, though, would the thing keep him alive?

Sam realized he needed help, knowledgeable help, and there was only one person he could think of who could find a vampire quickly.

His cell phone was in his hand in an instant. He thumbed quickly through the names on his contact list, past Bobby, past Ellen, past Jo and Joshua. When he found the name he sought he wasted no time dialing the number. He just hoped to god she would answer. She should. She owed him one big time.

She answered. It was midday. She sounded sleepy. No surprise.

"Sam?"

"Lenore. Hey, I need to cash in that favor."