Author's note: I am currently rewatching season 1 (omg they are so young!) and I had this really crazy idea for a case and thought I'd share it with you. Enjoy! (Sidenote: I plan to make this fic about three chapters long just to give you a clue on the length.)

Disclaimer: Like probably all of you I don't own Supernatural and it's characters.

Weird haunting

Killing monsters, greasy food, dingy motel rooms equals the Winchester lifestyle. Okay, there is way more, but those are their most likely surroundings. And just today all three of the cliches had been fulfilled. They finished a small salt and burn without complications. Something that didn't happen often. So monster killing. Check. Then they went to one of the usual diners. You know one of those in which even Sam's salad tasted greasy and don't even start to think about Dean's steak. Sam just hoped that there was actual beef underneath all the grease on Dean's plate. But he seemed to like it. So greasy food. Check. And as for the last point after eating and driving for two hours they stopped at a motel. One fake credit card later found them in a room. The carpet stained, the unmistakable stench of bleach in the air and the mattresses old, so just another normal room on the road. At least the bathroom was somewhat clean. But all the rest… So dingy motel room. Check. Three out of three. Yay!

Sam sighed as he sat down on his bed. This was not the life he had hoped for. Not the life he had dreamed of. Jess was dead for five month and four days now. And so was his dream. He kept telling himself, Dean and everyone who would listen that he indeed is going back after he had his revenge. But deep down he knew this was never going to happen. No matter how deep he had buried this strange, unexplainable feeling, it was following him for as long as he can remember. There was no going back, there actually hadn't been a getting away in the first place. This was the path that someone chose for him to take or at least this is how it felt. So searching for revenge is what his path was going to be and he hoped that it would eventually bring peace to his soul. Yeah, who is he kidding? It won't. But this fire of desperation that consumed Sam again and again screamed for vengeance. Vengeance for the death of his mother, vengeance for the death of his girlfriend, vengeance for the grief his family had to suffer from again and again, and vengeance for himself and the life he was forced to live. For the life he always wished was his, but felt like someone else tried to claim it. The death of the monster that took his life before he turned one year old would be satisfying and a relief but it wouldn't extinguish the fire burning in his soul or would give him the life he thought he wanted. But it gave him purpose and a reason to get up morning after morning.

Sam glanced sideways where his brother was busy eating again. He watched as he put multiple pieces of beef jerky in his mouth. Though he never said it this bottomless pit known as Dean Winchester was the reason why among all the grief he called his life there were good days for Sam Winchester. Good memories and hope. Yes, his brother was a pain in the ass jerk and bossy and sometimes even downright annoying, but this jerk was there for him. Not necessarily with words and talks. The Winchesters not only hated to talk about their feelings, but they also were incapable to put feelings into words. A punch in the wall conveyed the message. But his brother knew how to keep him busy so he could focus on something else. And above all he knew how to make him laugh. Prank war here and snarky comments there and suddenly Sam was able to breathe again for a few hours and could actually belief there is hope. And he was grateful for it.

"What?" Dean felt his brother's eyes on him and eyed him warily. "Want some?" he added when Sam didn't answer right away and offered him some jerky.

"Thank you, but I think the stuff at this greasy diner was enough heart attack training for me today." Sam shot back yet again grateful that Dean had given him the easy way out of answering.

"Suit yourself. There isn't much left anyways." Dean replied and shoved the last stripe of beef in his mouth.

"There never is when you are around" Sam snorted slightly.

"Ouch Sammy that hurt" Dean mockingly moved his hand to his heart and threw him an evil eye.

"Yeah, I know it was a little harsh" Sam replied and smiled wickedly as he added as an afterthought "harsh but accurate."

"Whatever bitch. I'm gonna take a shower." and with that Dean turned and disappeared into the small bathroom.

Sam put his head on the pillow. And ones again Dean had made him feel more comfortable in his skin with this little banter. He sighted and closed his eyes. Maybe tonight would be one of the nights without a nightmare about Jess' death. He still dreamed about it, but at least he was able to catch some sleep in between and the nightmares didn't occur this regularly anymore. Life was slowly getting back to Winchester normal for Sam.

Dean turned on the shower and the warm water felt good on his skin. Considering the circumstances which brought Sam back into the hunting life he felt like the biggest ass walking on this goddamned earth because he was so glad to have his brother back fighting right next to him. But he was also very worried about him. And despite the Winchester no-emotion code he knew how Sam felt. God he knew. His normal life hadn't only been ripped from him once, but twice. First time when he was four years old and the second time when he was sixteen and about to go to his first school dance with Robin. And the decision to leave Robin was the point in which he made hunting his life. Killing monsters no matter what. And it worked for Dean for the most part. He successfully convinced himself that he liked his life as a hunter, his life always between searching and running, the life which didn't allow him a constant relationship.

Sam was really worrying Dean. Because of the simple reason that Dean didn't understand Sam's way of dealing with his lost. He himself dealt with grief in a simple way: Booze, boobs and broken noses. Sammy was different. He turned into himself in his grief thinking god knows what. But it seems to work. Sam's nightmares got less intense and less frequent. And keeping him busy also seemed to work. Sam was like in the good old times the geekboy while research, the thoughtful one on hunts and the little brother during their banters. Only at night and on long car rides Sam allowed his thoughts to wander and Dean could feel the sadness, desperation and rage radiating off him then. But eventually Sam would be okay again, because Dean knew that Sam was not just stubborn but also strong as hell. As they say time heals all wounds. It tended to leave a nasty scar, but it got better. And Dean was determined to give Sam the time he needed and be there for him in every way he knew.

Dean turned off the shower when the water went cold. He would find a new hunt for them tomorrow and needed to catch a few hours of sleep. And he slept a couple of hours but was suddenly interrupted by a loud sound.

"Moo"

In a split second Dean was awake. Before his mind even thought about what had woken him he sat upright and his eyes scanned the room while his body prepared to fight. But his eyes couldn't make out something in the dark.

"Mooooo"

Dean slightly jumped when the noise resounded again, this time longer and louder. Fast as a lightning he grabbed the knife he kept under his pillow and moved into a standing position, ready to strike. There was silence for two seconds in the darkness of the room. So Dean slowly moved one hand to turn on the lamp on his bedside table. As the light illuminated the motel room nothing seemed out of place.

"What is it?" Sam who was woken up by the light mumbled, but immediately got alert when he noticed Dean's tense stance.

"Nothing. Just thought I heard something. Go back to sleep."

"Your definition of 'nothing' changed during my time in college?"

"What?" Dean tried and failed to sound and look casual while still armed and focused on his surroundings.

"Right. That is exactly what 'nothing' looks like." Sam just shook his head when Dean didn't answer. "Okay. You remember I studied pre law? And a lawyer has to question and bring people to confess to things? Do you want me to use this interrogation skill and get you to talk?"

"Oh that it sweet, the big lawyer really think he can make me talk?" Dean challenged and grinned wryly. But then he realized Sam just crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Okay, so I just thought I heard that strange noise. Got up to check it out. Happy?"

"What noise?" Sam inquired.

"Man, it sounded just like…" Dean started to say just as…

"Mooooooooo"

Dean jumped again started by the noise. Sam eyed him warily. "Just like what?"

"You did not hear that?"

"Hear what?" Sam asked and at the same moment got aware of the quickly dropping temperature of the room. "Dean I think we have a ghost problem."

"Yeah." Dean noticed it too. And just as he slowly started to move towards his with rock salt loaded shotgun the temperature returned to normal. "Well that is weird."

"What noise where you talking about?" Sam asked as he tried to make sense of the situation.

"Well, it's like this. It kind of sounded like…" Dean hesitated. On the weird scale from finding a skittle in a bag of M&Ms to seeing Bobby in a nightgown, that had what looked suspiciously like lace at the hem, this was definitely a seven. Knowing full well Sam wouldn't let this go he continued: "a cow."

"A cow." Sam repeated unbelievingly. And then he broke into a fit of laughter.

"What now? Are you possessed or something?" Dean stared at his brother partly concerned partly annoyed.

"No, it's just…" Sam pressed through his bouts of laughter "the big Dean Winchester the greatest beef lover on this planet… is haunted by a cow."

TBC

Author's note: And this is the story in which a steak bites Dean back. I know it sounds weird but we are talking about Supernatural right? So what do you think, should I continue the story? Reviews are welcome.