Just so as you know, there are one or two swear words in this chapter and an inexplicit description of sex, but it's quite mild so please don't be offended. If swear words will offend, please don't read as that was never my intention. Thanks.

Better to burn out – than fade away

Chapter 10 – I got something to say

Joey Wilkes had been known as 'the runt' for as long as he could remember, but it was only now that it was starting to become a problem for him. Now it irked him, held him back, made others look at him like he wasn't quite tough enough to do what needed to be done. With four older, bigger and stronger brothers, he'd always had the short end of the straw, but he'd learnt to turn it to his advantage, a strong survival instinct being a must where he was concerned.

Sitting in his damp and rusty green Oldsmobile, under the flickering neon sign announcing 'Hickson's Bar' to the world, he kept his iron clad attention fixed on the motel over the road. He could tell the folks who'd settled in rooms for the night as well as the lucky bastards who hired by the hour. But he hadn't wavered, not once…not even when the stringy haired blond, on the wrong side of pretty, had knocked on the driver's window and smiled. He'd smiled right back and then ignored her, but he had the common courtesy to feel regret – he was tempted after all, and hell – even the ugly ones needed loving. But he was working hard to establish an altogether different kind of reputation right now and this was how he was doing it.

Joey had been sitting there, unremarkable and unnoticed for longer than he cared to remember. In fact he'd been sitting in that same spot for just over four hours now…ever since he'd followed Bobby Singers truck back to the motel and observed the three occupants stumble out of the dirty pick-up and into their room. They'd been obviously guarded, Singer scanning the area protectively before opening the door and ushering the other two inside. Then, a few hours later, the old man left again – got in his truck and got on the road. That'd been nearly midnight.

He let out a loud yawn and stretched both arms high over his head, pushing both palms into the roof, he was long passed his boredom threshold with nothing of interest to report…until, that is, he saw Dean Winchester stalk out of the motel room…alone…and stumble across the road towards the bar. Joey sat up straighter in his seat and watched with unexpected interest as his quarry staggered, not looking at all steady on his feet, and all of a sudden that neon sign was flashing 'opportunity'.

The car door complained loudly as he got out, twisting on the loose hinge and needing two attempts to close. Joey never locked it. Why bother? Who would steal that? He started ambling towards the saloon door in quiet pursuit just far enough away to be inconspicuous, while he patted his pockets, making sure he had his mobile and his pistol.

ooooo

The road glistened underfoot as the demon walked in Dean's shoes, staring at the faces of the few people it saw, making them shrink back, obviously sensing the innate danger they were in. It stumbled slightly crossing the road, not yet used to dominating the host's body but gaining more control all the time. Unsure of where it was going, it possessed only one desire, to experience as much as it could as quickly as possible. This was a new age, a new world, and it would savour it all, and when it was done tasting, it would take control, just like it had with its host.

There were more people on this side of the road and the faint echo of music drifting through the air, drawing it like a moth to a flame, needing the heat of the bodies it could sense in the bar. Walking through the swing door the music assaulted its new ears, throbbing through the air, weaving images of fire and heat – images of home.

'…rise up, gather round, rock this place to the ground… …burn it up, let's go for broke, watch the night go up in smoke……rock on, rock on…drive me crazier… …no serenade, no fire brigade just a pyromania…'

This music was raw and vibrant, it was sexually charged energy. The demon had never experienced anything quite like it before...and it liked what it heard. The beat flowed freely through the room, lacing round the writhing bodies that pressed against each other in their animalistic display of mating rituals.

'...come on…what do you want, what do you want…I want rock and roll…I want rock and roll……ooh lets go, let's strike a light, gonna blow like dynamite…I don't care if it takes all night, gonna set this town alight…come on……rock of ages…rock of ages…'

Making its way to the juke box and the steady rhythm of Def Leppard, it placed both hands on the smeary glass and felt the vibrations as they worked their way up its arms and into its gut. This hypnotic pulse was worth pursuing. Leaning forward it pressed into the machine, soaking up the vibrations as they worked their way under it's new skin and into its bones. Closing Dean's eyes, it threw his head back and soaked up every beat…

"Oh man, would you look at that, he's humping the jukebox, Jesus, dude…can't you find a woman…you fucking freak?" The wide, leather clad mammoth of a man threw his shoulder into Dean's side as he walked past him, shoving him hard against the machine, making the music jump with the force of the impact. The scene was starting to attract a number of interested observers, some mildly wondering what the strange, vacant looking young man was doing to the jukebox but most, wanting to see what Dean would do now.

But all he did was look in the face of the big man and stand quiet and still.

"Eddie, come on baby, don't keep me waiting." The woman at his side bit her bottom lip in a blatant attempt at seduction and manoeuvred herself in front of big Ed.

"Place is full of fucking FREAKS"

"Then let's go someplace more private, come on darling, I know a place, just out the back." She pulled his hand and rubbed it against her butt while she giggled and swayed her hips suggestively.

Big Ed gave Dean his best intimidating glare as he walked away, following his conquest towards the back door and out into the alley. For a moment the demon stood and watched them go, oblivious to the looks it was getting from the other patrons. Then slowly, it walked to the backdoor and followed the couple out into the night.

Joey had watched the whole spectacle from just inside the doorway. He'd seen Dean's weird behaviour at the jukebox and saw him gaze curiously and dispassionately at the heavy who was obviously looking for a fight to impress his woman. He just didn't know where this was coming from? Was Dean drunk? Was he sick? He sure as hell wasn't acting like he'd been up till now, and Joey should know – he'd been shadowing Dean Winchester for what felt like forever. He looked fleetingly at his phone and pressed the send button, knowing that his message would have reinforcements there within a few minutes, and then he walked out of the bar and into the alley to see what he could see.

ooooo

She was too well endowed to be called big boned, with flesh bulging over the tight waistband of the smallest denim mini skirt, the top button of the cheap blouse she wore deliberately left open showing a flash of black lace bra and an ample cleavage. Big Ed had his mouth there lapping at the pale skin and working his way back up to her throat and into her mouth.

The demon stopped in the shadows and took a deep breath, letting the smell of stale alcohol and sex fill Dean's lungs. He saw the man's mouth close on hers, and watched his hands roam over her fleshy curves as she urged him onward with soft moans whispered into open lips. And then she caught sight of Dean, standing, watching the display of wanton desire and arousal. Slowly she grinned, parting those deep crimson lips giving a view of pearly white dental work, and then she winked at him.

It'd been an age since the demon had walked the earth but this new and improved society, where pleasure and power were freely available if you knew how to take them was its Shangri-La. It watched through Dean's eyes as the man's hand reached lower, hungry fingers pressing into the bare flesh of her thigh. It heard her moan with pleasure, and felt a thrill twist inside its own gut that burned its way down through its body. The demon leered, it could smell her arousal and it wanted what it saw.

"What the fuck?" Ed turned quickly facing the smaller man with murder in his eyes. "You just got your last ever free ride, boy, now you pay for the show."

"Eddie, baby, he's harmless, he was just watching." The buxom woman was holding her open blouse together in a belated attempt at modesty, her pleas falling on deaf ears, but big Ed was already set on his path.

He reached behind him and pulled out the twelve inch blade he used for dirty little fucks, like this no good piece of shit in front of him. Taking up the instinctual stance of a street fighter he twisted the tip of the blade in a loose figure of eight, feeling the balance and enjoying the foreplay as he advanced on Dean, who stood looking blankly at the events unfolding around him. As Ed arced wide, the blade made its first descent and cut straight through Dean's cheek from just under his right eye, across both lips and down the centre of his chin, spraying crimson with the violence of the blow. But Dean didn't move. He stood and watched as Ed faltered, losing his bravado when faced with a victim who refused to run.

"What the fuck?" He swung the blade again, this time directly at Dean's chest; this kid wouldn't have any chance this time, no matter what drugs he was on to stop him feeling the pain of the blade. No-one could just stand there with a fucking twelve inch knife in their heart. But as the dull metal thrust its way forward, Dean reached out with one hand and caught the belly of the blade in between forefinger and thumb halting the weapons momentum in its tracks.

Ed pulled sharply, trying to withdraw his knife from the stranger's fingers, not caring if he sliced them clean off, but the blade didn't budge and as he struggled he saw the long, thin cut he'd inflicted down the man's face slowly knitting back together, sealing itself as though it'd never been there.

For the first time in his life Ed's body trembled as he knew true fear. He growled his words through clenched teeth. "What the FUCK are you, man?"

The demon smiled, contorting the handsome face into a parody of the sentiment, finally making its innermost nature known. As the big man struggled to regain his weapon, the demon reached out and wrapped cold fingers around his throat, and with no effort at all, pulled out his trachea.

The deafening silence was shattered only by his girlfriend's piercing scream as she saw Ed's body slump forward to his knees and then slam forward onto the filthy ground, the demon dropping the bloody windpipe in the messy puddle of fluids and gristle. She ran for her life, stumbling over loose paving stones and losing one heel from her shoe – but she still ran.

The demon was standing over the body when Joey stepped out from the shadow, his pistol aimed at Dean's chest. "Okay, Winchester, just take it easy." The barrel trembled as Joey glanced past Dean to the floor and took in the bloody mess that had once been a man called Ed. "Oh, man…shit, SHIT…What the hell have you done; Winchester? What the fucking hell have you done?"

The demon looked at Joey for as long as it took to draw breath before slowly walking towards him, the same foul smile on its stolen face…and Joey fired point blank three times, one low, one middle, one high, just like he'd been taught. He watched the bullets all hit home, the first embedding itself in Dean's thigh, the second in his chest, and the last through his neck severing the carotid and sending a cascade of Winchester blood to join the growing lake on the floor.

The demon felt no pain but it sensed the life leaving the host's body and it knew it had to act. The throat first, that was the one that would bleed out the quickest, it had to staunch that blood flow if it was to keep this body, and it wanted to keep this body, had fought too hard to lose it now.

As the demon retreated to do its work, Dean crumpled to the ground, his eyes open and staring, his face devoid of all expression. Joey stumbled backward till his back was braced against the wall and slid down to his haunches, keeping the gun trained on the unmoving body in front of him. The others would be there soon, they would know what to do…'oh God, please God, don't let him be dead' – he'd never killed a man before.

TBC