"So how did the in-laws receive you?" Sam teased as he slipped into the passenger's seat of the Impala. After their trip to Scotland to help Bobby get one over on Crowley, Martha and Dean hung back a few days to visit her family in London.

"My mum slapped him," Martha told Sam from the backseat.

"And her ex threatened me."

"My mum is just overprotective," Martha insisted. "And Mickey's harmless."

Dean scoffed. "I'm not afraid of any dude that shares a name with a freaking cartoon mouse."

"Anyway," Sam changed the subject. "Limestone, Illinois." He flipped through a couple of Missing Person fliers. "Six girls have gone missing in seven days. That's more disappearances than this city has seen in over a year," he informed them. "They're all about the same age too."

"They sorta look alike," Martha commented over Sam's shoulder.

Sam glanced back at Martha. "A seventh one just went missing."

"Let's start with her then," Dean decided.

The three of them stood in the bedroom of the latest missing girl, Kristen. Sam glanced around at the gothic décor and movie merchandise. "Vampires?" he scoffed softly.

Dean scoffed as well. "These aren't vampires. They're douchebags."

Sam rifled through Kristen's bedding until he discovered her laptop. "Jackpot." He set it on the desk and booted it up.

Dean picked up one the books lying around and grimaced. "Look at this." He gestured to the cover. "I mean he's watching her sleep. How is that not rapey?"

Martha laughed softly. "Different strokes for different folks." She took the book from him and leafed through the pages. "'He could hear the blood rushing inside her, almost taste it,'" she read aloud. "'He tried desperately to control himself. Romero knew their love was impossible.'" She cringed at the words.

"Romero?" Dean grimaced. "Seriously?" He picked up one the vampire pillows covering the bed and tossed it. "This is a national bestseller. How is that possible?"

Martha looked up from the book in her hands. "Have you tried Pattinson?"

"How many T's are there—" Sam grinned. "That's it. We're in!"

Dean stared at Martha in shock. "Seriously?"

Martha waved off Dean's stare. "My best mate Nicola went through this phase. Don't ask."

"Her inbox is full of messages from some guy claiming to be a vampire." Sam informed the pair of them.

"A real vampire?" Dean questioned. "I mean it's probably just a human mouth-breather, right?"

Sam shrugged. "Could be vampires phishing for victims."

Martha closed the book and set it on the bed. "This is the Twilight generation we're talking about here."

Sam scoffed softly. "Talk about easy prey. I mean, these chicks are just throwing themselves at you. All you gotta do is write bad poetry."

"Did they make any plans for a meet and greet?" Dean asked.

"Yea." Sam nodded. "At a place called The Black Rose."

"The Black Rose?" Dean rolled his eyes. "Gimme a freaking break."

Martha lost track of the boys in the club. The guy she was tailing turned out to be just an emo kid as opposed to an actual vampire. She had no idea which way Sam went, but she thought she saw Dean headed for the alley. When she stepped outside, a girl in a tight black dress rushed past her. She turned the corner and saw Dean scare off a guy wearing glitter. "No luck?"

"No." Dean shook his head as he walked towards her. "Just a moron trying to get laid."

"Maybe Sam found something."

Dean nodded. "Yea. C'mon." The two of them headed back towards the door.

"You're pretty," a heavy voice came from the shadows.

Martha paused. "Excuse me?"

"I said..." A man with long curly hair stepped into view. "You're pretty."

"Sorry. She's not interested," Dean retorted.

"Actually, I was talking to you." The man smirked.

"Sorry again, pal. I don't play for your team." The man grabbed Dean by his collar and flung him across the alley, sending Dean crashing into a nearby dumpster and knocking him out.

Martha instinctually reached for the hunting knife she hid under her jacket. "Sod off, mate."

The man laughed. "Where the fun in that?"

Martha took a swipe at him with her knife, but he easily dodged her attack. Before she knew it, Martha was against the wall and completely at his mercy. "My boyfriend is going to eat you alive," she told him defiantly.

The man laughed harder as he pinned Martha with his right arm and brought his wrist up to his fangs. "Not if you get to him first." He tore into his own flesh smeared his blood over Martha's lips.

Martha tried to fight him off, but his blood filled her mouth.

Dean shook off the dizziness as he stumbled to his feet. His eyes immediately went to Martha. "Martha!" The guy let go of Martha and she slumped down the wall onto the ground.

"Leave her alone you son of a bitch!" Dean grabbed a lead pipe and charged him.

At the opposite end of the alley, Sam began running towards them with his machete brandished. "NO!"

The guy took one look at the two of them and smirked. "Catch you later, pretty boy," he winked at Dean, scurried up the wall and out of sight.

Sam stood in the alley looking upward towards where he disappeared. Meanwhile, Dean rushed to Martha's side. He pushed her hair away from her face. "Martha?" he spoke softly. "Tell me he didn't get his blood in your mouth."

Martha wiped the blood away with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry," she croaked softly.

Dean paced back and forth in their motel room as he watched Martha sleep. He sent Sam out for coffee. He needed time to think.

Sam insisted on calling Samuel, but Dean wasn't about to let him lay a finger on her. If anyone had to do it, it would be him. Martha would want it that way.

"Can you do something about that bloody light," Martha groaned as she sat up in bed. Dean obediently switched off the light as she crawled off the bed. "It's so loud. And bright."

"Martha," Dean spoke softly.

His heart raced and the sound banged in Martha's ear like a drum. She winced. "I know what you're thinking Dean," she looked at him. "But I'm a monster and we both know what needs to be done."

Dean drew in a sharp breath. "Let's not go there just yet," he pleaded.

"I can't live like this," she shook her head. "That is if I'm even still living." She scoffed. "You think about death a lot in my line of work, but I never thought I'd go out like this."

"No one's dying." Dean voice wavered, but he quickly steeled himself. "I'm gonna fix this. There's gotta be a spell or something—"

Martha grabbed Dean and flung him down onto the bed. She straddled him and pinned her arm under his throat. "Do you know how delicious you smell right now?" she asked as she leaned in close to his neck. She inhaled his scent.

Dean gritted his teeth as he forced some space between them. "Fight it, Martha. You gotta fight it!"

"But I'm so hungry," Martha panted softly. Her lips brushed against his neck. "I just want a little taste."

The door to the motel room swung open. "Down, girl." Samuel stepped inside followed by Sam.

Martha climbed off of Dean. "What are you going to do, old man?" she challenged. "Kill me?"

Samuel gripped his machete tightly in his hand. "I could. Or I could just cure you."

The cure Samuel gave Martha was minging. She was sure it was psychological, but no matter how many times she brushed her teeth she couldn't seem to get the taste out of her mouth. She put her toothbrush down and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She knew her fangs had disappeared, but she couldn't stop herself from checking again.

Dean was sitting on the bed when she left the bathroom. He was good with stoic expressions, but she could tell he was worried.

"I guess I'm a full-fledged hunter now," she joked as they climbed between the covers.

Dean pulled her into his arms and stroked her shoulder with his thumb. "I'm just glad Samuel had a cure."

"And if he didn't?" Martha questioned. "Would you have killed me?"

Dean exhaled sharply. "Martha…"

"Just promise me," Martha cut him off. "If there comes a time when there isn't a cure…" She paused. "You'll be the one to put me out of my misery."

Dean sat up in bed. "You do realize you're asking me to gank you, right?"

Martha sat up as well. "I'm asking you to be merciful. I couldn't live with myself if I hurt some innocent person."

"But you expect me to live with your blood on my hands?" Dean challenged.

Martha sighed. "Hopefully it never comes to that."

Dean fell back against the bed. "Can we just talk about something else?"

"You just want to talk?"

Dean laughed softly. "I thought you might need some rest." He ran his hands over her back. "How ya feeling anyway?"

Martha exhaled sharply. "After I drank the cure, I kept getting flashes. Like everything was happening in reverse. I saw all those vamps…people…I killed to get to Boris. And…"

"What?"

Martha hesitated and simply shook her head. "Nothing," she lied. "I'm just glad it's all over." She forced a smile.

"Me too." Dean pulled her down to his level and kissed her forehead.

Martha snuggled up to him again and closed her eyes. She hated lying to him, but she couldn't tell him what was really bothering her. The fact that she basically executed a whole nest of vampires was hard for her to swallow, but something else weighed heavily on her mind.

During her flashbacks, she got a better picture of what happened in the alley. After Boris knocked Dean out and attacked her, she remembered seeing Sam at the other end of the alley. He stood there and watched as Boris forced her to drink his blood. And worse than that, she swore she saw him smile.

Sam let her get turned and that meant only one thing. Dean was right about something being wrong with him.