Disclaimer: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fiction. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. The original stories were developed using SPN episode content up until 02/11/10 and this one may include anything up through 2019. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 15, though my story took its turn after SPN Season 4. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, "Mission," "Prelude," and "Bound." This story takes place where Prelude left off and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes.

Dylan lifted his head and peered over at the clock on the hotel room nightstand, the red light illuminating three in the morning. He lowered his head back to the pillow with a groan.

"You're still up," she sighed from the crook of his arm, her back flush against his side.

"Yeah. Can't sleep." That wasn't even half of it.

Sonora rolled over to face him, the bed squeaking at the change, draping her slender arm over his chest. He could feel the warmth of her skin through his cotton shirt. "Bad dreams again?"

"No." Yes.

"Wanna talk about it, Dylan?"

"No." Yes. His hand absently brushed up and down her side. She shifted closer to him, her front pressed into his side.

Sonora stared up at him with her bright brown doe eyes and tousled short tawny hair, which lightened two shades by the Summer sun. They ended up sharing a bed because it was the last room left—one with a singular queen-sized bed. It worked to help pass off as a married couple on their honeymoon cover. At least that was what he kept telling himself.

He planned to sleep on the floor, but she insisted it was not fair, and no one should have to sleep on the gross motel room floor. The second part he totally agreed with.

"The only reason you're willing to do it is the antiquated formality because I'm a girl," she argued, her hands on her hips, her lips set in a tight line.

Suddenly he was thinking about his hands on those hips...his lips on hers...

No. He had to get his mind out of the gutter but to be fair, it had spent a long-ass time out of the gutter until recently. And he liked her so much more when she was bossy. He obviously had a problem.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Nora. It's not my fault my parents raised him with good manners."

Her fists clenched at her sides as she walked forward until they were nose to nose. Dyl honestly thought she was going to hit him. And he knew she could hit—hard.

"Panties, huh? Well, you know, I had the balls to fight for the vote to be equal. I picketed with a sash on and thrown in jail on more than one occasion, so spare me the conversation on ethics and courtesy. Fuck it all. The bed is big enough for both of us to have a part. We had a long drive and have long days ahead of us, so get in your pajamas and get in that bed with me."Goddamn. Yes, ma'am. She didn't have to tell him twice.

So, he conceded. He was not winning the battle or the war, and, to be honest, he didn't want to. If anything got too uncomfortable, he just planned on sneaking onto the floor once she fell asleep.

And to start, it had gone as well as expected. Initially, they had ample space between them on the bed, even though he barely slept a wink knowing she was breathing beside him. By night two, he had tried to sleep until he felt the mattress shift to find her turned towards him, facing him in the middle of the night. Part of Dylan thought she had done it in her sleep, but, to his surprise, when he peeked over at her with half-opened eyes, she was looking at him.

By night three of their investigation, they had both fallen asleep, and he woke up to find her slight figure hugged against his, their arms draped over one another. In his mind, he thought about doing the old hug-and-roll, but instead, he tugged her tighter. There was a tenderness to the way he held her that surprised him. He had held her like that once before when he thought they were dying after being shot. Ever since then, he felt very protective of her. It was stupid, as she could kick his ass if she wanted to. But she had revealed a part of her past that she hid from others, leaving herself open and completely vulnerable. And he could tell that was rare and it meant something that she could be open with him.

Dylan welcomed the escape of jumping right back into hunting after everything. He could no longer tolerate being at home. No matter how much he tried to block everyone out, it was just too damn debilitating for him to sit there and bear the totality of the loss. Not while Dylan was still wallowing in his own shit.

Once his dad left, he thought it would get better—but it was April. April's spirit was fucking shattered. Being around her was like being next to a psychic black hole. She even lost command of her abilities, inadvertently breaking items around the house with her telekinesis. She was out of control. It surprised him that Jamie seemed oblivious that something else was going on besides his sister just being a klutz. Dylan felt like an ass when he decided to pick up the gig and leave his sister, but he had no choice. He was going crazy at home—literally. The grief was just suffocating.

Now far away from home fighting monsters, he felt a little bit like himself, but he was having terrible nightmares. They usually started by watching his mother die. He could only assume he was seeing what April witnessed. They still had that twin connection. His mother's eyes closed, and the knife buried in her chest to the hilt, the blood spreading over her body—and he couldn't do anything to help. He froze in the spot, his legs burning as he willed himself to get to her. To save her—but all he could do was watch her suffer. It fucking terrified him.

Then the nightmares merged with other fears into a cacophony of shit. Dylan saw everyone he cared about die over the last few weeks every time he closed his eyes. The last one that jolted him from his sleep was about Sonora torn apart by a hunter. And in his dream, the hunter turned out to be his dad. That dream resulted in Dylan attacking and shooting his father in the head. And he didn't feel anything when he did it except rage and not one drop of remorse. It was the craziest twist since The Sixth Sense.

A voice shocked them over the police scanner app on his phone. There was another local death; a female attacked and half-eaten. Super. What the hell was happening in Missouri?

"Good thing we were already up," Sonora yawned, jumping out of bed in her tank top and shorts. She closed her eyes and stretched her arms straight up, and he was getting more than just a peek of her flat stomach. And then she turned to stretch her legs—he was staring at her ass. And she peeked over her shoulder, and one eyebrow and side of her lip kicked up. She caught him looking. And she probably picked up his thoughts too. Dammit. Welp, there was only one thing to say because he couldn't deny taking a peek or two.

He shrugged. "What? Those shorts are cute. I'm partial to Batman."

She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't deny the flush rising to her cheeks as she playfully tossed her pillow at him, causing him to throw it back at her.

Dyl got out of bed and stretched in his t-shirt and boxers. Sonora walked by him, giving him a sideways glance before heading to the bathroom to change.

"Nice ass," she shouted before quickly shutting the bathroom door.

He chuckled and shook his head. Damn, she was always surprising him.

After she emerged from the bathroom in a blur. Now it was Dyl's turn to put on his monkey suit and dance. Dylan held the garment bag hanging in the closet, throwing it over his forearm as he entered the bathroom. He hated wearing those stupid things; they made him feel like such a tool. Not that he didn't look good in them, though. No one could deny that. It really would be easier to go in wearing decontamination suits and removing the body from the morgue. He would bring that up to Sonora later.

He looked at himself in the mirror. When did his hair get so long? His brown hair was now skirting down to touch his cheekbones. The circles under his eyes were dark purple. Flipping on the faucet, he splashed some water on his face, trying to wake himself. Coffee. He needed caffeine. Stat.

After straightening his tie in the mirror, he turned to see Sonora in her black power suit standing in the doorway. She jokingly put on her sunglasses like a cop drama.

"Cute, Caruso. Let's get this show on the road," Dylan smiled and winked at her, grabbing their fake badges and heading to his car. He bought a used '69 Chevy Camaro for his seventeenth birthday off Craigslist. The frame wasn't in terrible shape, but the body required love, and April helped him bring that car back to life. They worked for weeks in their dad's garage and then ended it by giving it a sleek blue and black paint job. He had to admit, his sister knew her way around cars.

"Dad told me it's like putting a puzzle together," April explained while she was under the jacked car. "And Dad's right. You know, I know he is like, you know, the best hunter that's ever lived, but he's a damn good mechanic too. He's great at problem-solving. I'm pretty sure if he wasn't hunting, this is what he'd be doing."

Their craftsmanship left a good impression on their father, and Dean was ecstatic that his son was sensible enough to pick a Chevy. His dad had been okay with April's Mustang. But he always gave Mom shit for her having owned a Porsche in the past. He always joked she liked driving "Euro pieces of trash." Of course, nothing would beat Dad's Impala. That thing was a beast.

"Can I drive her this time?" Sonora asked, stroking the car as she walked around to the passenger side. "Please. It's been a long time since I've driven a '69. I promise I'll be gentle. Please?"

Was she actually pouting?

Dylan smiled and chucked the keys to her. She took off her sunglasses and spun the keys around her finger.

Gentle my ass. Sonora drove like a bat out of hell to the location surrounded by police tape. It was a suburban house. They parked and spoke to the police trying to block their path.

"FBI, huh," the officer asked. "What do you want with an animal attack?"

"Animal attack," Dylan questioned.

"Yeah, the female victim was chewed up. We thought maybe it was by the family dog, but they don't own one. The body has got bite marks all over."

"The family was under investigation. FBI business," Sonora said, forcing her way past him. They showed their badges again at the door. The scent of mortal blood hit him like a ton of bricks. Luckily Sonora had mentioned eating before they left just for these types of situations.

There was a dead lady on the floor, her blood soaking into the beige carpet. The cop was correct that there were bite marks everywhere. He visually examined the body. The heart looked to be intact. No werewolf. The bite marks weren't like a vampire; they almost looked human. No smell of sulfur. They were in the suburbs; it would be weird for it to be a wendigo.

Sonora was secretly sweeping the location using her EMF detector. Her eyes met his, and she shook her head. Nothing.

Dylan got up to look at the family photos now smeared in blood. There were plenty of photographs with the lady on the floor. There was another photo with the lady and a man; a wedding photo.

"Have you tracked down the husband," Dylan asked the sheriff now in the room.

"No. According to friends and neighbors, the couple has had problems lately, and he had been taking off. The last time they saw him was at his birthday party. Thirty is a little too young to be having a midlife crisis."

The last photo on the mantle was of him at his birthday party. Thirty? Why did that age ring a bell?

Sonora gestured for him to step outside, and he followed her to his car.

"So, what do you think it is?" she challenged him. "What is the one thing that stood out to you in this?"

"The age; he just turned 30. All the killings happened after his birthday. So...are we thinking Rugaru?"

She smiled with pride at him. "Correct, Winchester. Now, how do we kill it?"

"Fire."

"Gold star. Now, how about you and I track him down and light his ass up?"

They scoured the whole town, canvassing the city together and apart. Nada. It was clear the guy they were looking for had split from the area. Since he had fed already, there was a chance they had a little time in between killings.

They made their way back to the hotel room to look into Mr. Daniel Richardson's family and close friends. Just because Rugarus became monsters when they turned 30 didn't mean they forgot their lives as humans. If he panicked, he might try getting in contact with someone he was close to. That also puts the family in danger. And it was almost disturbingly easy to find all of them using only a couple of public internet domains.

"Okay," Sonora started, checking people searching websites. "Looks like he didn't have any family in Missouri. His mom is still alive in...Nebraska. His father...died at...at 30, no surprise there. This can be genetic."

"Any siblings," Dylan asked, looking over her shoulder as she quickly typed new parameters into the search engine.

"Yep; two brothers," she looked up at him. "They're 20 and 25. One is living close to the mother in Nebraska. The other is in college in Maine, because of course, he is."

Fuck. Not good. But the monsters wouldn't know if they carried the abnormality inside until they turned 30 as well.

"You're probably right he'd want to go to his mom," he agreed. Hell, if he was in trouble, that's who he would have turned to if his mother was still alive. "Let's check out Nebraska first, then we'll hit Maine if we have to. He's probably laying low tonight."

"They can move pretty fast, Dyl."

"But it's also almost sunrise. The Rugaru probably motored for a while in the dark, but he's going to have to lay low in the day since he is not going to look a hundred percent human. We can get a solid hour before we jet. Sounds good?"

"Then we can beat him to his mother's house and get the upper hand. Come on, don't tell me the soon-to-be college student wants to get to bed," she kidded, closing her laptop. She got up to change, so she didn't wrinkle her suit in the car, entering the bathroom.

He started undoing his tie and undress as well, getting back into his comfortable, worn jeans. He looked in the mirror over the dresser and could see in the reflection that the bathroom door cracked open, her bare back visible as she slipped into her shirt.

He straightened up and looked for a clean shirt in his duffel. Finding a plain burgundy t-shirt, he got back to the topic at hand and let the cat out of the bag.

"I'm not sure if I'm going this Fall, Nora."

"What?!" Sonora blurred out of the bathroom in a pair of jean shorts that looked like they were made for her and a gray racer tank top. "What the hell are you talking about? Why not? Didn't you get accepted?"

He did, at all ten colleges he had applied, eight of them presenting him full rides. It was just like his mother wanted. His mom wanted him to seize every opportunity to do whatever he wanted. But all he could think of now was this was his job. Saving people. Hunting things. That was a tremendous responsibility and burden. How the hell could he just forget that?

Dylan knew his uncle had tried and eventually got sucked back in under dire circumstances—and that's just what he wanted to prevent; dire circumstances. April was in it, so was his dad, and he needed to defend his family from whatever bad came their way. The way to do that was to stay active in "the life" to know what was out there. College, in the grand scheme of their lives, was pretty fucking pointless.

So Dyl didn't answer her; he just continued aggressively stuffing items into his duffel bag. Sonora just stood there with her arms crossed, waiting for an explanation before she mumbled a "whatever" and got back to packing her things. She gave the executive order that she was going to drive so he could get some rest. He was too tired and pissed to argue.

So they loaded up then drove in virtual silence for an hour. Dylan just silently stared out the window, his head against the glass with his arms crossed, much like he used to do in the car as a kid. He was also in his mind, always thinking. His mom was the same way. They just couldn't shut their thoughts off. But he could feel Sonora's irritation as hard as he tried to obstruct her just as much as she knew what he was considering. And annoyance was the keyword; she wasn't angry exactly. She thought of him as spoiled and a little di—

"Dick. You're being a selfish, little dick," she eventually declared from the driver's seat. Yep, he had been correct in his assumption that she was paying attention. "I would kill for your opportunities! You knew what I had when I was 18? My job? Secure a husband and tend the house. That's it. They didn't want us in school. And since I left, I've been in this life, and once you are in—really in—there's barely any way to get out. Your dad and mom knew that—why do you think they went back in the first place? It would have been so much easier just to raise you without that burden. But they couldn't because of their conscience. So they adapted but were still risking all of your safety. And I just couldn't do that—"

He raised an eyebrow. "Do that to who?"

"A family, Dylan. Not that I could if I wanted to. But I would never want to have someone that I could be terrified to lose." She sighed, keeping her molasses colored eyes on the road, the deep golden tones vibrant in the oncoming headlights. "When we finish this Rugaru gig, I'm going to switch to a new partner."

His body tensed up. What the fuck was she doing?

"What?! Come on, you can't be serious, Nora! That's just stupid! We work so well together! Why the hell do you want to switch to someone you don't know or trust. We have a relationship—"

"Because I want you to have it better than me," Sonora admitted, twisting her head briefly to glance at him. "Go to college, Dylan. Do everything you wanted to before your girlfriend died—"

You mean before I killed her, he thought. When I drank Becky to death.

"Whatever way you want to spin it," she answered. "Do the things you wanted to before you found out about all of this. It's what your parents wanted."

"Well, Mom's dead and Dad's AWOL," he snipped. "Nothing is going to be the same as it was before! Nothing. I don't think you understand that. The life I had before? It's gone. Done. I'm not going to go home and I'm not going to school. And who the hell are you to tell me what to do with my life? So, you want a new partner—fine by me. I am going to keep doing what we're doing with or without you, Nora. Even if it's by myself. You know, it actually will be easier not having to worry about you. I have to agree with you about lessening the burdens in my life."

She glanced at him again, a new emotion rolled off of her—she was hurt. He could tell her eyes were glistening with tears and if he wasn't so fucking mad he might have cared. But he didn't.

"Dyl, I–"

"Just drive."