Chapter Three: It's not a demon

Sammy has always worn his heart on his sleeve; he was a lot like Dad. Dean knew it, that's why he worked so hard to keep his emotions in check especially around his family. Two people in the family getting all bent out of shape about things were more than enough. He'd always been the peace maker between Sam and Dad.

Sammy didn't like to admit it, and Dean would never say it, but he was so much like their dad it was scary. Even with hunting, Sammy was quick becoming the master their father was, he could find something for them to hunt quicker than Dean and he put patterns together almost as quick as Dad. He just didn't want to hunt, not really. It's what made him weaker in the fight. But for Dean, it was all he knew how to do, killing these things, sending them back to hell. And well… he enjoyed it. He was man enough to admit that to himself, if not anyone else.

Now though Sam was like a whole new person. Totally opposite from the way he was prior to this damn vision. Hell, he was even leaving the research up to Dean. Sam was the geek college-boy; he was supposed to do the research, not Dean. Sitting in a corner table at the nightclub, Dean pecked at the keys to the laptop searching for answers. Sam, was at the bar, and unless Dean was mistaken he was about to get that pretty redhead's phone number!

While Dean was glad to see Sam come out of that part of his shell, he was getting more and more worried about him. Something about this whole gig just wasn't right.

Dean searched every web site he could find on flying creatures and demons that liked to take children. The problem was there were so many things it could be. Dean needed to talk to Sam again about his vision, see if they could narrow it down some from his description.

He motioned Sam over, thinking about how many times Sam had been the one sitting here trying to get his attention.

Sam arrived with a beer in each hand and a smile on his face. "Hey Dean," he said holding up a napkin that had a phone number on it, written in lipstick.

"Great Sam," Dean said, "It's about time."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Now about this hunting evil stuff. I had no idea so many of these evil fugly's could fly! Just the demons make the list into well over a hundred options. We need to narrow the list down. What else can you tell me about the thing in your vision?"

"It's not a demon."

Dean looked up from the laptop and glared at Sam, "Dude! I've been sitting here for two hours trying to figure out what we are up against! Why are you just now telling me it's not a demon?"

"I didn't think it mattered. You're going to kill it anyway, I saw you do it in my vision, so I know you can do it when the time comes. Quit worrying so much."

"Wait, your telling me you saw this entire gig in that vision?" Dean shouted at Sam.

"Yea, I think so."

"That's it," Dean said as he slammed the lap top closed, "we're leaving."

"What, why, it's early… we still have hours before we need to…."

"SAM! Now!" Dean picked up the lap top and grabbing Sam by the elbow. He practically dragged him out of the bar.