Chapter One -- one day I'll leave you...

Dean couldn't believe he was gone. It was so final, so...neverending. The fight wasn't over and he knew it. The problem was figuring out where to go from here. He'd been taking orders his entire life, and now there was no one there to give them.

Sammy was a mess, but Dean didn't think it first on his list of priorities. His little brother was old enough to take care of himself now. Dean needed to figure out how in the world they were going to continue this thing. And it wasn't going to be easy.

Brothers, they sat across from one another at yet another diner booth, silence filling the gap that the table tried to, but failed at. Neither of them had anything to say...not that the words were there if they felt communication could get them through this. Everything had changed now, and Dean didn't think it was for the better.

He fumbled with the buckles to his father's worn journal before finally opening it. He wondered if there'd been any cryptic messages left for them like times before. That would at least give them something to hope for. Something to help them move on.

He gently touched the pages, not wanting to make too much noise or ruin anything. They had to go on. They still had work to do, and their father knew it. The crumpled paper fell out as if a sign from the afterlife, landing on the table between the boys. Sam stared down at the table with empty eyes. Dean was definitely going to have to be the strong one from now on. Not that it would be any different than before. Before they found him.

With hesitant, shaky fingers, Dean picks up the note, immediately recognizing his father's writing.

Boys,
You still have work to do. There are still people who need help. Don't give up on what you know is right. I'm still with you. It's time to go back, Dean. Back to the place we could never get through in the past.
The Black Parade.

That was all. John Winchester had never been a man of many words, but Dean was at least hoping for something a little more personal. This was just so...non-descript. He was surprised when Sam took the note from him and read it himself.

"The Black Parade? What the hell is that?" His voice sounded almost like it did before. The only difference was the shaky note. No one else would have noticed. Maybe they could move on more easily than Dean originally thought.

"I don't really remember it. When you were young, Dad and I would leave you with Pastor Jim on the anniversary of Mom's death. Dad thought you were too young to know what happened. Not to mention, it wouldn't have been easy to explain it to a toddler. Every year we'd go someplace different. It wasn't like we'd go on vacation, or somewhere with significant meaning. At least not to anyone else. Each place we meant was a step in learning about evil in the world and how to fight it. Preparing us for the final hunt and showdown with the demon.

When I was seven, we went to Massachusetts. Each year, they allow one day in the fall for those who practice witchcraft to hold public ceremonies and stuff. They walk through town, in long black robes, all traditional and stuff. It's weird. These are the people who can be really involved with the demon we're after. Dad always suspected they were. Now he wants us to go back, which probably means that something's going down."

Sam looked at him as though he'd suddenly exploded an eyeball or something. "So Dad wants us to go after a bunch of wackos who think they have a connection to the dark side? You're fucking kidding me," he sighs, eyes rolling like a professional angst-ridden teen. Somedays Sam seemed as though he hadn't aged past seventeen.

"Dad knows what he's talking about, Sam. And these people aren't just wackos. We're talking about people who are deep into this shit. It's the best place for a demon to infiltrate."

"So we have to be there when?" Sam sounds tired now, and Dean wonders if he's up to it.

"November 2. Next week."