Hello again! Here's a new story for you, this time set in season 2, let's say between Simon Said and No Exit. This is going to be a bit creepier at times, but not just yet. First chapter is a bit short, but I haven't got round to writing much this week. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think.

Also thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed and enjoyed Chasing the Shadows. I think that was one of my favorite and I am so glad I could keep the season 1 spirit alive with it.

Chapter 1

Andrew looked longingly at the coffee pot. It was seven o'clock. If he drank one coffee now, he would not be able to sleep until about five in the morning. And Harold's shift ended about then, so he would not be asleep and alone for long. Or maybe he should wait until Harold left. Like that, he wouldn't worry about Andrew not sleeping.

His husband descended the stairs into the living room, dressed for work. He eyed Andrew critically.

"I think I should stay home."

Andrew shook his head.

"This is the third night shift you'd be postponing. Weren't you saying that's when your job's most interesting? Night is when most of the fires happen, that's what you said once. The rest of the time it's just cats stuck in trees."

Harold shrugged.

"I like rescuing cats from the trees," he defended himself. "The thing is, you do it long enough, you notice most of them do not actually want to be rescued." His face grew grave. "Seriously, Drew, you've been having nightmares for a week and a half and they show no signs of stopping. I'm not comfortable leaving you on your own at night."

Andrew was not comfortable with being alone at night, either. Especially if he fell asleep. Still, he tried to pretend everything was fine. He headed for the bookcase and peered at his Agatha Christie collection.

"Don't worry, I'll have Poirot tonight to keep me company."

Harold snorted.

"I suppose it's nice to have some warning, if I'm to be cheated on. Look, if you're having nightmares, just call. I'll come home."

Andrew raised his eyebrows.

"Of course. Because the fire is going to put itself out so you can come hold my hand if I have nightmares. Really, go to work, Harry. I'll keep myself entertained."

Later that evening, Andrew was actually proud of how he had handled himself, managing to hide most of his panic. The truth was, he was scared to death of being left alone with his nightmares and he fully intended to stay awake until Harold was back.

It was about one o'clock and he was halfway through The Murder of Roger Ackroyd when the lights went off. At first, the only thing he could feel was irritation.

"Really?" he muttered. "And I was getting to such a good part."

Then he registered the cold in the room. He shifted, or tried to, but he could no longer move. His breath quickened. He stared at the suddenly open window and at what was coming through it, making its way to his bed. All this time, he had been sure it was a dream. It had never occurred to Andrew that he had actually been awake, and that the creature that had been haunting his nightmares was quite real.

xxxXXXXxxxx

Sam stood on the bed waiting for Dean to be done with his shower so they could head downstairs. When Ellen had invited them to stay at the Roadhouse, she had generously offered them two rooms. Dean had declined, saying that he did not want to take a spot that could belong to a paying customer. Sam suspected it was more than that. Dean's radar when it came to him, temporarily disabled after their father's death, was now back in full force after the incident with Andy. Or maybe it had been earlier, after the zombie girl had broken Sam's wrist, dooming him to a very long time in an uncomfortable cast. Speaking of which, Sam thought, cautiously probing the cast, maybe the doctors were wrong. Maybe he could take it off earlier than they predicted.

"There a reason why you're poking at that thing?"

Sam immediately let his hand drop away from the cast. He had not heard Dean come into the room. He very much hoped he was not blushing. It was irritating how Dean could still make him feel like an unruly child at times. He had not felt this way with Dad since he had turned thirteen. The thought left him unexpectedly guilty, as most things about John Winchester did, now that he was gone.

"Seriously, Sam," Dean went on. "I'm sure you think you're badass enough to hunt one-handed for the rest of your life, but maybe you shouldn't try so hard to become a gimp, how about that?"

"I wasn't doing anything," Sam felt the need to say. "I was just…checking it," he finished lamely. "Really."

Dean shook his head and opened the door. He led the way downstairs to the bar, where things were unexpectedly quiet. Sam barely remembered much of the night before, he had been too wound up after their most recent he was sure there had been way too many Hunters as well as a group of college backpackers who had seemed incredibly out of place. Sam had no idea if they had gotten rooms there.

Ellen was talking on the phone as they walked in, but she nodded to them in greeting. After finishing the conversation she went to their table with two plates of breakfast.

"Coffee's coming right up," she said. "You boys sleep all right?"

"No complaints," Dean said. "Beats sleeping in the usual roach infested motel of the week."

There was something unreadable in Ellen's eyes that felt too much like sympathy. Sam felt the need to look away.

"You seemed pretty engrossed in your phone conversation earlier," he remarked, needing to break the spell.

Ellen nodded.

"Friend of mine called," she said. "Told me that his husband just died under unexplainable circumstances."

Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Or kind of unexplainable circumstances?"

"Quite likely," Ellen said. "This friend knows a few things about what' out there. He's a fireman in town. We had a fire spirit causing havoc around these parts a few years ago. That's how we met. He's a good man. He knows I can connect him with people who specialize in the weird and he called for help." She eyed the two brothers speculatively. "I promised I'd send him the best, so…you boys interested?"

It was one of those cases Hunters dreamed of, where people knew what they did and they didn't have to play cops or feds or wildlife services and could ask all the weird questions they wanted and have their witness actually cooperate for once. Besides, they would be having a home base at Ellen's, meaning using Ash's resources for research, and a warm bed to return to for the night.

"Hell yeah, we're in," Dean said, and Sam nodded quickly in agreement.

xxxXXXxxx

She stood hidden in the shadows of the empty house across the street, watching the flashing police cars drive away from the apartment. Another car approached, black and menacing, and she shrunk away almost against her will. She glared at it. That was not how things should have been. They were supposed to leave the other one alone to grieve. Grieving was good for her. It made people vulnerable to her influence. It made it easier for her to feed. And she was still so, so hungry.

Killing that man the night before had been a mistake. She usually took her time, taking a little every night, making her prey last for months, weakening day by day. She had thought she still had time with him. But he had been wide awake when she had come in and he had seen her. The look in his eyes had made her lose control. She had feasted that night, but it had not been enough. She needed more.

She had waited for the man's partner to be alone, thinking she could start on him next. She sometimes did that, although not often. It drew unwanted attention if she spent too much time with a single household. That was when people got suspicious. But she was desperate now, and even though she had other targets in town, she did not want to wait.

Frowning, she watched the two young men that got out of the black car. And she froze. She could feel it even from the distance, the darkness within them, the darkness chasing them, the potential for so many delicious nightmares. She licked her lips subconsciously. Maybe she should reconsider her strategy. She might have a feast soon, something to satisfy her hunger for months to come, if only she was patient enough.

She slunk back into the shadows of the empty house. Now she planned to wait for the two to come out of the dead man's place. Then, she would follow them. She hoped they were staying somewhere close.