"UH UH! NO WAY!" yelled Sam. "There's NO WAY you're gonna let that Aswang get anywhere near him again!"

"Sam," responded John unequivocally, "We don't have a choice."

"There's always a choice, Dad. And you're not gonna use Dean to get that thing!"

"I don't know where it's going to hunt tonight and I don't have the time to figure it out," retorted John angrily.

"I don't care," interrupted Sam. "You can't use Dean to get it for you."

"Sam," warned John sharply. "I will do what I have to. And you won't argue with me. Is that clear?"

"You don't care whether it hurts Dean or not!" shot back Sam furiously.

"Yes, I do care," stated John decisively. "But we can't let it attack anyone else."

"So you'd rather it attacked Dean instead?" retaliated Sam irately.

"Sam – THAT'S ENOUGH!"

"No, it's not!" continued Sam. "You wouldn't use anyone else to trap it, would you? You wouldn't let me do it!"

"That's different Sam," responded John steadfastly. "And I said that's enough."

"It's not different!" yelled Sam, now on the verge of tears. "You don't care what happens to Dean! Just as long as you get the Aswang! That's all you care about!" And he glared at his father, his eyes filled with disgust. "I hate you!"

John was on his feet heading toward his youngest son, but Dean reacted quickly and managed to squeeze in between them before John was able to reach his brother.

Dean placed his palm on his father's chest to stop his advance. "Dad. Don't."

"Dean…he has no right…." started John. He closed his hands around Dean's shoulders in an attempt to maneuver him out of the way.

Dad! I'll talk to him," interrupted Dean in desperation. He braced himself against his father by placing his hands on John's forearms as he met his father's icy glare. "Just…go back and sit down." Then he added, "Please."

John inhaled deeply and for a minute he refused to move; but Dean stood his ground. He hated when his father and brother fought. Lately they'd been arguing a lot more often and Dean always found himself caught in the middle. But there was no way he was going to just sit back and let them go at it, and right now, they were both being irrational. If his father would just sit down and stay out of it, Dean knew he could talk some sense into his brother. At least talk some sense into him as his father saw it.

John looked over Dean's shoulder at his youngest son. Sam was still glaring at him with hate-filled eyes, but the expression on his face was akin to terror. John realized that Dean was right. He would be able to talk to Sammy; he'd been doing to it since their mother died. Sam needed someone to reassure him right now, not coerce or scare him. So John returned to his seat and pretended he was engrossed in what remained of his meal.

Dean didn't move until his father sat down; then he slowly turned to face his brother, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed. Dean carefully sat beside him.

"Sammy, Dad's right," he began. "There's no other way. I have to do it. "

"No you don't Dean," replied Sam determinedly. "We'll find another way."

"There's no time. We don't have any idea what the Aswang's planning to do. So we have to make it do what we want it to. And right now it thinks I'm hurt. It'll go after me because it'll think I'm easy prey."

"But what if it attacks you again? You won't be able to fend it off by yourself."

"It won't attack me. And I won't have to fend it off by myself. You and Dad will be there to stop it, so there'll be nothing to worry about," reassured Dean. "And I know you'd be willing to do it if you could. But you can't."

"Why can't I?" asked Sam indignantly.

"Because it knows you're not sick and it thinks I am. So I'm the only one who can do it."

"I could pretend," offered Sam and he looked angrily at his father as he added, "Dad says it prefers to hunt kids anyway."

"Maybe,' conceded Dean, "But it will go after anything that can't defend itself properly. Look, it tried to get you the other night when you weren't feeling well and now it's my turn. And besides, I can't let you do it. My ego couldn't take it. No way I'm gonna let my little brother show me up."

Sam looked quizzically at his brother and muttered, "Like that would ever happen."

"Hey!" responded Dean. "Who ran out to stop the Aswang from grabbing that kid last night? Without even stopping to think about the consequences? If it wasn't for you, the Aswang would have carried that kid off and we wouldn't have been able to stop it. But you stopped it from taking him – and that kid's alive today because of you. So you left me some pretty big shoes to try to fill."

"You already did," answered Sam, sounding completely unimpressed. "If it hadn't been for you, it would have taken me instead."

"Maybe," shrugged Dean. "But that doesn't count."

"Why not?" queried Sam.

"Because I said it doesn't, that's why," stated Dean, giving his brother a playful slap on the knee before he got up and headed back to finish the remainder of his dinner. "And I'm older so that means I get to say what counts and what doesn't."

Sam gave up arguing; there just wasn't any point. Dad wanted to use Dean to ensnare the Aswang and Dean was willing to do it. Dean always did everything Dad wanted. He never argued with him and that bothered Sam. How could he let Dad use him like that? They'd already tried to kill the creature three times and all they'd managed to do was hurt it. And it, in turn, had hurt both Dad and Dean. And hadn't Dean passed out just over an hour ago because the Aswang had poisoned him? Isn't that what Dad had said? But suddenly no one cares about that anymore and Dean was perfectly okay to go and square off against the Aswang.

'Fuck,' thought Sam, 'They can both be so stupid sometimes.'

With the argument over and Sam resigned to the fact that Dean was going to let himself be used as Aswang bait, the three Winchesters sat down to formulate a plan. John felt certain that the Aswang was nearby and watching them, waiting to see what they were planning to do.

In just over an hour, the Aswang would mutate to its animal form in order to hunt – and eat – which didn't leave them a lot of time to devise a plan to entrap it. John was adamant that they lure the creature away from all populated areas of town as well as any other place where people would be outside. That would limit the creature's menu choices so that it remained focused on Dean and would provide them with the opportunity to kill it. As far as John was concerned, it had thwarted them too many times now. It was getting more cunning and bold, not to mention desperate for a good feed. If they weren't successful in killing it tonight, John knew that someone in this town would lose his or her life later that night and he wasn't willing to let that happen.

They decided to entice the Aswang to the high school; it was located on the outskirts of town and there were no houses or parks in close proximity, nor was there any reason for people to be in the vicinity after dark. Dean could coax the Aswang to him on the open expanse of the football field and the nearby woods would provide perfect cover for John and Sam.

Now, all that remained to do was to whet the Aswang's appetite so it would follow Dean and not fly off in search of a different victim. They just had to convince the Aswang that Dean was too sick to be a threat and that John and Sam would be out hunting it as far away as they could possibly get. In order to get the Aswang's attention, they decided to stage a heated argument between John and Dean, which would end in Dean leaving on his own for the high school.

John went outside to the truck and rummaged through the cab, pretending he was looking for something. Shortly thereafter, Dean opened the motel room door and leaned against the doorframe, trying his best to look exhausted, which wasn't too difficult – he was exhausted.

"Where do you think it's going to hunt tonight?" inquired Dean in an attempt to lay the groundwork for the trap.

"I think it will go back to that subdivision," replied John. He figured that was a good place to say he was heading, seeing as it was on the opposite side of town from the high school. "It's a nice night. Lots of people will be outside and this thing will be hungry. There'll be plenty of people around that subdivision for it to choose from."

Dean paused before he continued, "Dad, you have to let me come with you."

"No, Dean. You're in no shape to hunt."

"You can't do it alone."

"I won't be alone. I'll have Sam."

"Like he'll be a lot of help," shot back Dean sarcastically. Maybe that would provide the Aswang with a false sense of security by making it believe that Sam really wasn't much of a threat either.

"Well, I need someone with me," responded John. "And it's not gonna be you."

"Come on, Dad," pleaded Dean. "You know I'm better on a bad day than Sam is on a good day. Besides, I feel fine now."

"Really?" responded John incredulously. He turned to face Dean and dictated, "Then stand up straight and stop leaning against the doorframe."

Dean did as his father requested but put his hand back against the frame, using it to brace himself.

John took one look at his son and shook his head. "You're staying here and that's an order."

"But Dad – you're gonna need me."

"No I won't Dean. You won't be much help to me if you pass out again. And I can't concentrate on killing this thing if I'm worried about what's going to happen to you."

"Nothin's going to happen, Dad. I told you. I'm feeling better."

"And I told you you're staying here," responded John unyieldingly. "In fact, I'm pretty sure I made it an order."

"Well, no offense," countered Dean, "But it was a stupid order."

"It was what?" replied John, in disbelief at what his son had just said to him.

"A stupid order," repeated Dean obstinately. "And I don't like it."

"I don't care if you like it or not. It's an order," retorted John firmly. "And you will follow it. Is that clear?"

"Yeah, it's clear," answered Dean. "Except, I'm not gonna follow it."

"Oh, you'll follow it all right," stated John adamantly. He left the truck and walked over to Dean, stopping directly in front of him. He looked down at his son and admonished, "You'll follow it or it'll be the last thing you do."

"I don't think so," challenged Dean.

"What did you say?" asked John as he fisted Dean's shirt in his hand and used it to pull him closer.

"I said…I'm not following your stupid order and staying here." He took hold of his shirt and attempted to remove it from his father's grasp. Then he added stubbornly, "And there's absolutely nothing you can about it."

John flexed his arm upward, lifting Dean by his shirt. "You don't challenge my orders," he stated vehemently.

Dean hoped his father remembered that none of this was real; that they were only putting on a show for the Aswang. This was beginning to seem a bit too real. But he continued playing his part and declared, "Then don't give me orders that you know I won't follow."

"I'll give the orders as I see fit."

"Then I'll follow them as I see fit."

John stepped forward, pushing Dean backwards into the motel room. When he had cleared the doorway, John kicked the door shut behind him. He had wanted the Aswang to witness their exchange but he didn't want to risk anyone else seeing it. He felt that they had let it escalate to the point where it looked like it was starting to spiral out of control and perhaps get a little more physical. He didn't want anyone else who might be watching to decide to get involved. Best to just let the creature's imagination take it from here.

As soon as the door shut, John released his hold on Dean. "Good job."

"Yeah, you too," responded Dean as he straightened his shirt and regained his footing. "But I was beginning to think you'd forgotten it wasn't real. You were starting to scare the shit outta me."

"Good" replied John seriously, "Keep that in the back of your mind. In case you should ever need it."

Dean glanced at his father but didn't respond. Instead, he grabbed his gun and made sure his knife was securely fastened to his leg before he headed back toward the door. As he turned the doorknob, John reminded him that he wanted to put on another good show for the Aswang. To make sure it knew just how sick and exhausted he was. And when John came out the door after him, he wanted Dean to leave no doubt in the creature's mind how pissed off he was at him.

"Make it as realistic as you possibly can. Don't hold anything back."

Dean nodded before he swung the door open. As he walked through the doorway, he called angrily over his shoulder, "Yeah, whatever, Dad. You go on your stupid hunt but don't expect me to come save your ass when you get into trouble. If you don't want me there now – don't expect me to be there later."

When he reached the front fender of the Impala, Dean hesitated and placed his hand on the hood of the car, making it look like he needed to steady himself. He wiped his other hand over his eyes before he commenced walking to the driver's door. Then he propped himself up against the car before he opened the door and got in. As soon as he was seated inside, he rested his head against the steering wheel, slid the keys into the ignition and started the car. Then he leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes.

John appeared at the motel room door and barked, "Dean! Get back in here now!"

Dean sat up and immediately threw the car into reverse. As he reversed out of the parking spot, he glanced out the window at his father and snapped, "Fuck you, Dad!" before he sped out of the parking lot, squealing the tires as he drove off.

John knew the Aswang wouldn't follow Dean right away. It would hang around the motel, waiting to see what he and Sam were up to – just in case this was all a trap. But once they got in the truck and headed toward the subdivision, John was sure the Aswang would go in search of Dean. In its desperation to hunt down a meal, the creature would see him as an easy target – sick and vulnerable; exactly what it was looking for. The canine it devoured last night wouldn't have done much more than stave off its hunger and now it would be craving a human meal. It wouldn't see any reason to go in search of another victim when there was a perfectly good and easily obtainable one right in front of it.

So, while the Aswang sought out Dean, all John had to do was double back across town, and make it over to the high school in time to kill the Aswang before it got hold of Dean. There was absolutely nothing to worry about.

After Dean pulled the Impala onto the road, he swiped the back of his hand across his brow to stop the sweat from dripping into his eyes. If the Aswang was watching him, it would definitely believe that he was still sick. That little demonstration with his father had been, without a doubt, the hardest thing he had ever done in his life. Challenging his father's authority and directly disobeying his orders was not something that he had ever done. And then, to top it all off, he had sworn at him when he left the motel.

Like he would ever think about doing any of that in real life.

But, he had done it and, hopefully, he'd been convincing enough for the Aswang to follow him. For the first few minutes after he pulled out of the parking lot, he drove quickly down the street – just like he would if was really mad – but then he slowed down and meandered through town like he was out for a casual drive. He had to give his father and brother time to leave the motel and head towards to the subdivision, as well as provide the Aswang time to pick up his trail before he headed to the high school.

By the time Dean decided it was time to drive to the school, it was almost completely dark. He didn't see any point making it harder for the Aswang to track him once the black Impala blended in with the blackness of the night. He parked the car at the far corner of the school lot and sat facing the football field.

Within minutes, darkness descended over the entire area. The clouds that were blanketing the entire sky obliterated the moon and the stars, almost completely obscuring the landscape. The only viable light in the vicinity came from the school entranceways, and they cast an ominous glow over the schoolyard and surrounding area. It was a perfect horror-movie setting for a battle with a supernatural being.

Dean listened intently to the sounds emanating from the shadows. But the night was quiet and the only noises came from the trees in the little woods that lay just beyond the football field. Their branches quivered in the wind and, in the dim light, created the illusion of an army of alien creatures preparing for an ambush while the rustling of the leaves sounded like their fervent whispers of last minute strategy changes before their General arrived. And once the General arrived, the conflict would begin.

And Dean knew their General was the Aswang and he was their quarry.

Dean surveyed the area hoping to catch some sign of his father or brother. But even as his highly trained eyes scanned the darkened area, he knew that it was a useless exercise; his father wouldn't risk revealing himself in case he inadvertently alerted the Aswang to his presence. So Dean had no way of knowing if his father had arrived or if he would ever be there to help him.

He had never felt so completely alone in his entire life.

Dean inhaled deeply and then slowly exhaled in an attempt to calm his anxiety. As he breathed in a second breath, he reached for the door handle and opened the car door.

It was now or never.

As he stood beside the Impala, Dean couldn't help but mull over the scene that Sam had caused back at the motel; how he had objected so fervently to this plan. And how he had assured his brother that everything would be fine. But now Dean thought that this certainly didn't feel like one of their best-laid plans. It felt more like he was walking head-on into an ambush or a trap.

And, for all he knew, he was walking into it alone.

Dean walked away from the relative safety of the Impala and sauntered across the parking lot. His plan was to cut across the football field and head toward the stands on the far side of the field. That would bring him closer to the woods and, with any luck, closer to his father.

He was also hoping that it would provide him with time to detect the Aswang's approach. He knew that the creature would descend on him from behind but the lack of light would stop its shadow from reflecting on the ground in front of him. There would be no way of knowing what was happening above or behind him or even when the Aswang arrived.

All he could do was keep walking slowly toward his destination, keeping his ears finely tuned to any noises he might hear. But he knew the Aswang flew silently; that's how it was able to move stealthily through the sky undetected by the very humans it stalked. Dean grinned to himself as he realized the irony of his situation because the plan was for the Aswang to be stalking him. And he had no way of knowing if it was. And maybe he wouldn't know until it was already too late. Like every other victim it had ever stalked. And killed.

All Dean could hear as he wandered across the field was the reverberation of his own footsteps and the seemingly endless chattering of the army of alien leaves. But suddenly the breeze died and, with it, the chattering ceased. It was deathly quiet. And overwhelmingly dark. And Dean could feel the silence and the darkness envelope him. It was as if the night was preparing to swallow him alive.

Then without warning, he heard the unmistakable flapping of gigantic wings right behind him…