Previously:

'Already got knives.' Sam shows them to Dean.

'They're the ones I bought for you.'

'For my first hunt yeah.' Sam quickly sorts out his pair of guns and fills his pockets with salt. 'Ready?'

'Born ready.'

Chapter 4

Sam turns to the crowd of student watching them. 'Everyone. You need to stay in here. And be as quiet as possible. We'll be as quick as we can.'

'How long Sam?' Jess asks nervous but hiding it for Sam's sake. Sam glances at his big brother.

'Bout an hour. Two tops.' Dean states. 'Black dogs are easy suckers.'

'Be careful.' Jess warns. 'Both of you.' Dean throws her a cocky smile.

'I'll look after him, don't you worry your pretty little head about a thing.'

'Dude.' Sam warns. Dean flashes Sam his signature smile and saunters to the door.

'Jess right?' Jess nods. 'Look after my duffle. No one but you touches it.' Sam rolls his eyes and zips up the bag.

'Look I'm touching it.'

'Bitch.'

'Jerk.' Sam hands the bag over to Jess's custody with a wink and a smile.

'Hey princess. Time to go.' Sam rolls his eyes again.

'Remind why I'm doing this again?'

'Because I need you. And you don't trust anyone else.'

'Damn right I don't.' The boys take up positions on either side of the doors, guns with the silver bullets in their hands. Dean looks over at Rick and Jess.

'Retouch the salt when we leave.'

'Why?' Rick asks

'WE will do.' Jess says.

'It's in the bag.' Sam says. 'Ignore the weapons.' Dean and Sam glance at each other before Sam nods at Dean and the elder boy opens the door and leaves the bar gun raised in front of him. Sam follows immediately on his heels. Rick instinctively goes to the doors and closes them. Jess takes the salt from the duffel and re touches the salt line. Together they sit back down and wait for Sam and Dean to return.

'Sam'll be okay?' Jess asks nervously.

'He looked like a pro with that gun.' The bar tender says across the room. 'And I don't think his brother will let anything happen to him. They'll be fine. Don't touch that salt.'

'Oh come on, that's complete bullshit.' The student in question protests

'Have you ever known Sam to bullshit?' Jess counters.

'Well no.'

'If he says leave the salt, then leave the salt.' The doors bang again making everyone jump.

'It's not them.' A student by the window reports.

'By the way.' The bar tender says. 'The salt does actually works as a deterrent.'

'And how the hell would know?' the student gripes. He smiles.

'You're one of them.' Jess realises and points to the duffel. The bar tender nods.

'Had to get out of the game. Still hunt every so often though.' He turns back to cleaning glasses signalling the end to the conversation.

The bar sits in silence while they wait for Sam and Dean to return. The doors bang. But differently from before. 'It's them.' The student by the window reports softly. A fist bangs on the door again.

'Come on man open up.' Dean yells though the door. 'We're freezing. I want my duffle.'

'Wait there for a second.' The bartender calls as he checks the devil's trap under the mat inside the door.

'For goodness sake, just open the damn door.' Sam yells. 'It's raining out here.' The bar tender opens the door. Dean is in a horrible mood and Sam's isn't much better. They walk straight over the hidden trap and salt line. Sam makes a bee line to Jess while Dean makes his way to the bar. He picks Jess up from her seat and takes it for himself situating her on his lap.

'You smell of smoke.' She complains

'Burning a black dog in the rain not fun.'

'I'll bet not.' The bar tender mutters incidentally (on purpose) bumping into Dean.

'Did you just stick me with silver?' Sam snaps his head over to look at his brother and the bartender.

'You're a hunter.' Sam accuses.

'Ex-hunter actually.'

'How come?' Sam moves Jess from his lap and saunters across to the bar bringing dean's duffle with him.

'Werewolf near bit my arm off.'

'And you didn't turn?' Dean tone is full of scepticism.

'Shot it before it could. Kinda lost my nerve and my will to hunt after that.' The bar tender pulls the top of his shirt aside and reveal an ugly looking bite mark. Sam and Dean grimace.

'And I think my black dog bite was bad.'

'What the one from when you were thirteen?' Dean huffs in agreement. Sam winces. 'Did not want to remember that one.'

'So what's your name?'

'Brandon Farmer.'

'Brandon Farmer. Nice to meet you. Dean Winchester.' The two shake hands formerly. 'Hang on. Not Farmer Brown?'

'Huh?' Sam is completely confused. 'What?'

'You're Farmer Brown? No way.' Brandon cringes at the nickname. 'Man Dad's gonna be pissed and jealous of us.'

'Why?'

'You know that hunter he's always trying to get a hold of?'

'The one with the specialty in herbal spells?' Dean nods. 'The one who calls hangs up on him?'

'That's Farmer Brown.' Dean tilts his head to Brandon. He freezes. 'And that's what Bobby was talking about. Jammy git.'

'Speaking of whom, shouldn't you be calling him?'