DISCLAIMER: I don't own the concept or characters.

S2 EP25 BLOODLUST

Back in Black poured through the speakers of the Impala as Dean sped down the empty highway with a huge grin on his face. It had only taken him two and half weeks to get her back on her wheels and he couldn't be happier.

"Woo! Listen to her purr," he grinned.

"You know, if you two wanna get a room, just let me and Bridget know," Sam told him.

Dean pet the dashboard, "Oh, don't listen to him, baby, he doesn't understand us."

"You're in a good mood," Sam noted.

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"No reason at all," Bridget said leaning forward over the back.

"I got my car, got a case – things are lookin' up."

"Wow. Give you a couple severed heads and a pile of dead cows, and you're Mr. Sunshine," Sam said.

"Story of our lives," Bridget snorted.

"How far to Red Lodge?" Dean asked.

"Uh," Sam looked at the map. "About another three hundred miles."

"Good," Dean grinned and stepped on the gas.

Sam adjusted his tie. He had to admit, Dean and Bridget had collected a lot of various costumes during their years of hunting; police uniforms, priest uniforms (he didn't want to remember that), lab coats etc. Bridget was currently in a dark gray dress suit, adjusting her panty hose and slipping on her heels before adding a pair of glasses and pinning her hair in a bun.

Dean remarked before he could, "You look like one of those naughty strippers who comes out while Hot For Teacher is playin'."

"I'm taking that as a compliment," she retorted. "Because Sam gets the full deal later, and you don't."

Sam grinned at Dean who faked a pout and shut the door to the Impala as they walked into the Sheriff's station. Ten minutes later they were arguing across from him as reporters.

"The murder investigation is ongoing, and that's all I can share with the press at this time," the Sheriff said sternly.

"Sure, we understand," Bridget said and adjusted her glasses. "But just for the record, you found the first head last week, correct?"

"Uh huh."

"And the other, a Christina Flannigan?" Sam asked, reading from his notes.

"That was two days ago," there was a knock on the door and a young woman entered. "Sorry, time's up. We're done here."

"One last question," Sam said.

"What about the cattle?" Dean asked it.

"Excuse me?" the Sheriff paused.

"You know, the cows found dead, split open, drained – over a dozen cases."

"What about them?"

"So, you don't think there's a connection?" Bridget asked.

"Connection with…" he trailed off puzzled.

"First cattle mutilation, now two murders? Kind of sounds like ritual stuff," Sam pointed out.

"You know, like satanic cult ritual stuff," Dean added.

The Sheriff broke out in laughter. "You can't be serious."

They stayed straight faced and his laughter died. "You are serious. Those cows aren't being mutilated. You want to know how I know?"

"How?" Sam posed the question.

"Because there's no such thing as cattle mutilation. Cows drop, leave it in the sun, within forty-eight hours the bloat will split it open so clean, it's just about surgical. The bodily fluids fall down into the ground, get soaked up, 'cause that's what gravity does. But, hey, it could be Satan. What newspaper did you say you worked for?"

Sam and Dean exchanged dumb founded looks and Bridget took the floor. "Weekly World...they're new."

"Get out of my office," he chuckled.

They left the office and Bridget stripped off the jacket to her suit once they were back in the car. "Where to next?"

"Hospital, you know what to grab," Dean told her.

She grabbed the lock box from under the seat and pulled out three doctor tags. It was scary how they almost had conning down to an art form.

They made it clear into the autopsy room without a problem. Amazing how a white lab coat could get you by unnoticed. A tall man was standing in the room and Dean read his name tag which only said J. Manners.

"John," Dean guessed.

"Jeff," he corrected.

Dean chuckled, "Jeff, I know that. Dr. Dorkin needs to see you in his office right away."

"But he's on vacation."

"Well, he's back. And he's pissed and he's screamin' for you, man, so if I were you, I would-."

"Okay," he said bolting for the door and out the room.

Dean nodded, "Okay, hey, those Satanist in Florida – they marked their victims, right?"

"Yeah, reverse pentacle on the forehead," Sam nodded.

Dean handed him a pair of latex gloves. "So much F'ed up crap happens in Florida." They opened one of the compartments and slid the table out. On the slab was the girl who was killed in the woods. Her head was in a plastic box next to the body. "All right, open it."

Sam shook his head, "You open it."

"I told you too."

Bridget nudged Sam out of the way, "Jesus, you guys are wusses." She took the lid off the box and looked in. "Well, no pentagram."

"Wow, poor girl," Sam said.

"Maybe we should, uh, look in her mouth," Dean suggested. "See if the wacko stuffed anything down her throat. You know, kind of like the moth in Silence of the Lambs."

"Yeah, go ahead," Sam said.

"No, you go ahead," Dean nudged him.

"What?" Sam asked blankly.

"Put the lotion in the basket," Dean impersonated.

Bridget rolled her eyes, "You guys are such pussies," she said and felt in the head's mouth. "There's nothing in her mouth…but what the hell…" she looked at her gums again. "There's a hole in her gum." She pressed on it and a fang came out. Her eyes widened, "Oh shit, we got a vampire…"

"Retractable fangs…you gotta be kiddin' me," Dean groaned.

"This changes things," Sam said.

Bridget removed her gloves and tossed them at him. He backed away as if they were acid. "Yeah, but you're still a wuss and I need a drink."

Dean smiled, "Now that's what I'm talkin' about."

Bridget had made over a hundred bucks in just thirty minutes off one game. She stuffed it into her boot as she walked away, flashing a grin at the boys she beat. It was amazing what boots and a denim skirt did to the male population.

"So, we're lookin' for someone," Sam said to the bartender as Bridget strolled up to them.

The bartender eyed her, "I'd say you got plenty of company there."

"That's not what I meant," he shook his head and slid a twenty on the table. The bartender took it. "Great, so these people would've moved here about six months ago. Probably pretty rowdy, like to drink."

"Yeah, real night owls, you know? Sleep all day, party all night," Dean added.

"Barker Farm got leased out a couple months ago. Real winners. They've been in here a lot. Drinkers, noisy. I had to 86 'em once or twice."

"Thanks," Bridget nodded and they headed for the door. All noticing the suddenly empty table that had been occupied by a man just minutes ago. They made their way back to the car, turning the corner to the side of the building. Bridget ducked behind the dumpster with the two and waited. The man turned the corner and paused when he didn't see them. He turned around looking the other way and Dean motioned for them to come out. The black man turned back around and Dean pinned him to the wall, holding a knife to his throat.

"Smile," Dean said.

"What?"

"Show us your teeth?" Bridget demanded.

"Oh, for the love of…you wanna stick that thing someplace else? I'm not a vampire. Yeah, that's right, I heard you guys in there," he said.

"What do you know about vampires?" Sam asked.

"How to kill 'em. Now, seriously, bro. That knife is makin' me itch," he tried to move but Bridget brought a blade out of her boot, pinning his arm in place by his shirt, eyes stone cold. "Whoa! Easy there, Xena." He lifted his lip up to show his gums were normal. "See? Fangless? Happy?" They moved off him. "Now who the hell are you?"

They stood by Gordon's car after explaining themselves. "Sam and Dean Winchester and Bridget," Gordon repeated their names. He opened a hidden compartment of arsenal in the car. "I can't believe it. You know, I met your old man once – hell of a guy, great hunter…I heard he passed. I'm sorry. It's big shoes, but, from what I hear, you guys fill 'em – great trackers, good in a tight spot."

"You seem to know a lot about our family," Dean noted a little on edge by it.

"Well, word travels fast," he shrugged. "You know how hunters talk."

"No, we don't actually," Bridget said.

"I guess there's a lot he never told you, huh?" Gordon said stunning her a bit. What else did he know?

"So, uh…these two vampires – they were yours, right?" asked Sam to cut the confusion.

"Yup, been here two weeks," he nodded.

"Did you check out that Barker Farm?" Dean asked.

"It's a bust," he told them. "Just a bunch of hippie freaks. Though they could kill with their smell alone."

"Where's the next then?" Bridget asked.

Gordon grinned and it sent a chill down her spine. He slid his arsenal back into his car, "I got this one covered. Look, don't get me wrong, it's a real pleasure meetin' you three. But I've been on this thing for over a year. I killed a fang back in Austin, tracked the nest all the way up here. I'll finish it."

"We could help," suggested Dean.

"Thanks, but I'm kind of a go it alone type of guy."

"Come on, man. I've been itchin' for a hunt."

"Sorry, but hey, I hear there's a chupacabra two states over. Go ahead and knock yourselves out," he said sliding onto the driver's seat. "It was real good meeting you though. I'll buy you a drink on the flipside."

Bridget crossed her arms over her chest watching the car drive away. "We're following him, aren't we?"

Dean nodded, already walking to the Impala. "Damn straight."

Sam shook his head, talking low to her. "Something about this guy isn't right."

"You get that feeling too, huh?"

"Glad to know I'm not the only one…we need to be careful around him," he told her as they got into the car, following Gordon to the warehouse factory.

Bridget drained her beer, it still wasn't enough to erase the memory of Dean killing the vampire using the saw machine and grinding its head into the blade as they saved Gordon in the nick of time. She could still see the blood spraying onto Dean's face and the cold hard stare in his eyes that had sent shivers down her spine. In those few minutes she didn't even recognize him.

Sam sat quietly next to her, having had the same impression she did and the same unsettling feeling when it came to Gordon. Something about this guy wasn't right and she couldn't be sure what it was.

The waitress came by and set a fresh beer in front of them. Dean reached for his wallet but Gordon held a hand up, "No, no. I got it."

"Come on," Dean volunteered.

"I insist," he handed the woman a twenty. "Thank you, sweetie."

Dean grabbed the shot glass in front of him and so did Gordon. He eyed Bridget, "You don't drink hard liquor?"

"Just don't want one, thanks," she said taking a drink from her new beer.

"It's okay. It's a man's thing anyway," he said and toasted Dean. "Another one bites the dust."

"That's right," Dean smiled and downed it.

Bridget rolled her eyes, "On second thought," she grabbed her shot and drained it, putting the glass on the table.

"That's my girl," Dean smiled.

"Not bad, not bad," Gordon approved.

Bridget said nothing and Sam continued to frown.

"Dean," Gordon chuckled. "You gave that big ass fang one hell of a haircut, my friend."

"Thank you," Dean grinned.

"That was beautiful, absolutely beautiful," Gordon nodded.

Bridget and Sam exchanged looks on his word usage. He had just called killing a vampire with a blade saw beautiful…that was disturbing on a new level.

"You all right, Sam?" Dean asked.

"I'm fine," he nodded.

"Well, lighten up a little, Sammy," Gordon said.

Sam eyed him and nodded towards Dean, "He's the only one that gets to call me that."

"Okay, no offense meant. Just celebratin' a little. Job well done."

"I'm sure he'll celebrate later with Bridge," Dean joked and it earned him a back hand to the arm from Bridget.

Sam ignored the comment, "Right, umm…decapitations aren't my idea of a good time I guess."

"Oh, come on, man. It's not like it was a human. You've gotta have a little more fun with your job," Gordon explained.

Dean snapped his fingers, "See, that's what I've been tryin' to tell him," he looked at Sam. "You could learn a thing or two from this guy."

Sam became annoyed, "Yeah, I bet I could. Look, I'm not gonna bring you guys down. I'm just gonna go back to the motel."

"You sure?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam said and got up from the table. Bridget stood up with him, taking the keys from Dean and going outside. Sam took the keys from her, "I want you to stay with Dean…I don't trust Gordon."

"Neither do I, but I don't want you to be alone either," she said a bit worried.

"I'll be okay. I'm gonna go call Ellen. Find out if she knows anything on this guy and see what he's really about. You stay with Dean, make sure he doesn't get into any more trouble. Knock him out if you have too."

"I can happily do that," she promised.

He smiled, touching her cheek. "I know I can always count on you," he bent lower and kissed her and she found herself fighting the urge to drag him to the backseat of the Impala.

"Be careful," she told him and went back inside. Both boys looked a little surprised when she sat down at the table again.

"You miss me that much?" Dean asked.

"With every bullet but my aim is getting better," she teased.

"Decided you wanted to hang with the big boys? Learn a few things from me?" Gordon asked, picking up his next shot.

"Actually," Bridget reached across the table and plucked it from his hand, downing it without a grimace and setting it back in his hand. "I think you can learn a few things from me."

Gordon was stunned into silence and Dean busted up. "Now that's what I'm talkin' bout."

Twenty minutes later they were in a discussion of swapping hunting stories, a favorite topic for Dean and one she admitted to enjoy at times especially when Dean told them. "So, I picked up this crossbow and hit that ugly sucker with a silver tipped arrow right in his heart. Sammy's waiting in the car and then me and my dad take the thing into the woods and burn it to a crisp. I'm sitting there, and I'm lookin' into the fire and I'm thinkin' to myself…'I'm sixteen years old. Kids my age are worried about pimples, prom dates…and I'm seein' things that they'll never even know, never even dream of'. So right then…I just sort of…"

"Embraced the life," Gordon filled in.

"Yeah…"

"How'd you get started, Bridge?" he posed the question.

She froze mid sip and she could feel Dean's eyes on her. She set the bottle down and brushed a strand of hair from her face and she questioned telling him. "I uh…long story short, I had nothing left and wanted revenge so I'm out hunting one night and I'm following this spirit that's haunting this abandoned house because it was hurting people, causing a lot of trouble. While I'm in there I find I'm not the first one their hunting it because my spirit is hovering over its latest victim," she jerked her thumb at Dean and Gordon chuckled, Dean looked embarrassed. "So I blast it, save his ass, burn the body and get welcomed into the family. How'd you get started?"

He took a deep breath, "First time I saw a vampire, I was barely eighteen. Home alone with my sister. I hear the window break in her room. I grabbed my dad's shotgun, run in, try to get it off her. It was too late. So I shoot the damn thing, which, of course, is about as useful as snappin' it with rubber bands…it rushes me, flings me across the room, knocks me out cold. When I wake up, the vampire's gone…my sister's gone."

"And then?" Dean asked.

"And then…try explaining that one to your family. So I left home. And then bummed around lookin' for information – how to track them. And I found that fang. It was my first kill."

"I'm sorry about your sister," Bridget said, knowing what it felt like to lose a sibling.

"Yeah, she was beautiful. I can still see her, you know, the way she was," he took a drink and looked at Dean. "But hey, that was a long time ago. I mean, your dad – that's gotta be rough."

Bridget looked at Dean from the corner of her eye, saw him shift uncomfortably. "Yeah. Yeah, you know. He was just one of those guys…took some terrible beatings – just kept comin'. So you're always saying to yourself, 'he's indestructible. He'll always be around. Nothin' can kill my dad. And just like that," he snapped his fingers. "He's gone…"

Bridget fought the urge to reach for his hand instead she took a drink and waited for him to snap back on his own. He shook his head. "I can't talk about this in front of Sammy…gotta keep my game face on. Honestly, Bridget here is the only one I can talk to about it at times cuz truth is, I'm not handling it very well. I feel like I have this…"

"Hole inside you…" Bridget added to it, knowing that feeling for over four years nearly five. "That never really goes away…"

"It just gets bigger and bigger and darker," Gordon nodded. "Good. You can use it – keeps you hungry. Trust me, there's plenty out there needs killin' and this will help you do it. Dean, Bridge…it's not a crime to need your job."

Bridget took a drink, not to keep from speaking, but to erase the fact that he was right. Gordon spun his bottle. "You know why I love this life?"

"Hm?"

"It's all black and white. There's no maybe. Find a bad thing, kill it. Most people spend their lives in shades of gray. Is this right? Is that wrong? Not us."

"Not sure Sammy would agree with you," Dean said.

"Doesn't seem like Sam is much like us," Gordon said and Dean's smile faded a bit, Bridget stared at him intently. "I'm not saying he's wrong…but the three of us? We were born to do this. It's in our blood…"

Bridget had that strange feeling coming back through her alcoholic delusion that was killing her buzz. This guy was definitely crazy and Dean seemed to finally be figuring that out.

Bridget was surprised Sam wasn't at the motel when they got there and even more surprised Dean invited crazy Gordon with them. She stood next to where Dean sat at the table looking over a map with Gordon about where vampires were possibly located. She was watching, her mind focusing more on where Sam could be. The car was here and he wasn't. That wasn't like him to leave without calling her or Dean.

"Well, this is the best pattern I can establish. It's sketchy at best," Gordon said.

"Looks like it's all coming from this side of town, which means the nest would be around here someplace, right?" Dean asked pointing to an area on the map.

"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking. Problem is, there's thirty-five, forty farms out there. I've searched half of them already, but nothing yet. They're covering their tracks real good."

"I guess we'll just have to search the other half," Dean volunteered. He looked at Bridget who was now watching the door. "What time is it?"

"After midnight," she said. "Where the hell is Sam?"

"That's what I was wondering," he nodded.

"Car's parked outside," Gordon pointed out. "Probably went for a walk – seems like a take a walk type."

"Yeah, he is but only if I'm with him or Dean at night, otherwise he doesn't go out," she said.

"Why? He need his hand held?"

She glared at him, "Because I'm his girlfriend, it's what we do to have time together so we can talk."

"Is Sammy your girlfriend or are you his?" Gordon asked.

She set her jaw, "His name is Sam and just because he doesn't hunt with such enthusiasm doesn't make him less of a man and if-." She stopped talking as Sam came walking through the door and she let out a sigh of relief and was in his arms before she realized she had moved in such a girly moment. She backed up, smacking his arm to kill the moment, "Where the hell have you been?"

"We were worried," Dean added.

His eyes shifted between the two of them. "Can I talk to you two alone?'

Dean looked at Gordon. "You mind chillin' out for a couple minutes?"

Gordon shook his head and they followed Sam outside. Once past the door and near the car did Sam speak. "Dean, maybe we've gotta rethink this hunt."

"What are you talkin' about? Where were you?" Dean asked.

Sam paused, thinking of what to say. "In the nest…"

"You found it?" Dean asked.

"They found me," he corrected.

"How'd you get out? How many did you kill?" Dean asked. He saw no blood or marks on his brother.

"None," he shook his head.

"Well, Sam, they didn't just let you go," Dean scoffed.

"That's exactly what they did," Sam said.

"You're kidding?" Bridget asked.

He shook his head. "No, they let me leave."

"All right, well, where is it?" Dean asked.

"I was blindfolded. I don't know."

"Well, you gotta know somethin'."

"We went over that bridge outside of town, but Dean, listen, maybe we shouldn't go after 'em."

"Why not?"

"I don't think they're like other vampires. I don't think they're killing people."

"You're joking…then how do they stay alive? Or undead, or whatever the hell they are?"

"The cattle mutilations. They said they live off animal blood."

"And you believed 'em?"

"Look at me," Sam held his arms out. "They let me go without a scratch."

"He's got a point…" Bridget said.

"Wait, so you're sayin'…no, man. No way. I don't know why they let you go, I don't really care. We find 'e, and we waste 'em," he started walking back to the hotel.

"Why?" Bridget asked following him.

"What part of 'vampires' don't either of you understand? If it's supernatural, we kill it. End of story, that's our job."

"No, our job is killing evil," Sam corrected him. "And if these things are killing people, they're not evil."

"That's what they do. They're supernatural, not of the norm, it's our job to kill them."

Bridget took as knife from her boot and handed it to Dean, putting it in his hand and standing in front of him. "Then kill me."

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"I'm supernatural, I'm not normal, so kill me. It's your job, right? Then do it," she said and held her arms out.

Dean shook his head, "I'm not gonna kill you."

"Why not?" she asked as Sam watched uncertain.

"Because you're not evil."

"And neither are they if they let Sam go," she said and he handed her the knife back.

"They are."

"No, Dean, I don't think so," said Sam, relieved now that the knife was gone. "Not this time."

"Gordon's been on those vamps for a year, man. He knows," Dean said.

"Gordon?" Sam repeated.

"Yes."

"You're taking his word?"

"That's right."

"Ellen says he's bad news."

"Not really new news there," said Bridget.

"You called Ellen?" Dean asked. "And I'm supposed to listen to her? We barely know her. No thanks, I'm going with Gordon."

"Right," Bridget nodded letting her arms slap to her sides. "'Cause Gordon is such an old friend. He's insane, Dean! He talks about killing like it's an art, he's up there with Dahmer and Ramirez."

"He's not a socio path."

"Could've fooled me."

"Quit substituting Dad," Sam said suddenly and even Bridget froze. "What?" Dean asked.

"He's a bad substitute for Dad."

"Shut up, Sam," Dean said and started walking away.

"He's not even close, Dean. Not on his best day," Sam added.

Dean whirled around with a smile. "You know what, I'm not even gonna -."

"You know what, you slap on this big, fake smile, but I can see right through it, 'cause I know how you feel, Dean! Dad's dead! And he left a hole and it hurts so bad you can't take it, but you can't just fill up that hole with whoever you want to! It's an insult to his memory."

Dean nodded, "Okay," he turned quickly around and punched Sam in the face. Bridget jumped in shock a hand to her mouth to stop the gasp that came from her.

Sam straightened back up from the blow, "You can hit me all you want. It won't change anything."

Dean's eyes hardened. "I'm going to that nest. You don't wanna tell me where it is, fine. I'll find it myself."

"Dean," Bridget followed him, Sam behind her and they entered the room. She wasn't surprised to find the other hunter gone.

"Gordon?" Dean called out.

"You think he went after them?" Sam asked.

"I know he did that son of a bitch," Bridget growled.

"We have to stop him," Sam said.

"Really? Cause I think we helped him out," said Dean.

"Just give me the benefit of the doubt, would you? You owe me that."

"Yeah, we'll see…," Dean looked for his keys. "Shit, he snaked the keys."

Dean managed to hot wire the Impala with a grumble, "I can't believe this. I just fixed her up too…so, this bridge – is that all you got?"

Sam looked at the map as Bridget flashed the light on it, sitting in the middle. "The bridge was four and a half minutes from their farm."

"How do you know?"

"I counted," he said and Bridget and Dean both stared at him in wonder. "We took a left out of the farm then turned right on a dirt road followed that for two minutes slightly uphill then too another quick right and we hit the bridge."

Bridget shook her head, he could still surprise her and Dean did the same, "You're good. You're a monster pain in my ass, but you're good."

"Is that Gordon's car?" Bridget pointed near the farm house.

"He's already here…" Sam trailed off.

Dean parked the car and the three got out, hurrying inside. They went right and came into the dining room where Gordon had the blonde vampire girl Bridget recognized from her drawings tied to a chair. She was bleeding from various cuts Gordon had sliced into her. The sick bastard was torturing her.

"Sam, Dean, Bridget, come on in," Gordon welcomed them.

"Gordon, what's going on?" Dean asked disturbed by the scene.

"Just poisoning Lenore here with some dead man's blood. She's gonna tell us where her little friends are, wanna help?"

"Look man -."

"Grab a knife. I was just about to start on her fingers," he said and cut her arm causing her to hiss.

"Whoa, whoa, hey. Let's all just chill out, ok?" Dean said.

"I'm completely chill," he shrugged.

Bridget was slowly approaching him from the other side of the table. "Gordon, put the knife down…"

"It sounds like it's Bridget who needs to chill and Sammy by the look of it," he said.

"Just step away from her, all right?" Sam said.

"Killing them is one thing, Gordon, torture is a little different. Bit extreme," Bridget told him.

He nodded. "You're right," he put the knife down. "I'm wasting my time here. This bitch will never talk," he pulled out a bigger knight. "Might as well put her out of her misery," he looked at Sam. "I just sharpened it, so it's completely humane."

Sam walked towards Lenore from the other side of the table, "Gordon, I'm letting her go."

"You're not doing a damn thing," he pointed the knife at Sam.

"Gordon, no," Bridget said and stepped closer to him. He slashed the knife towards her and grabbed her arm and pulled her into him with the knife to her neck.

"Bridget!" Sam stepped closer but Gordon pulled the knife closer to her.

"I'd step back if I were you."

"Whoa…" Dean said calmly holding his hands up. "Let's take it easy. Let's talk about this?"

"What's there to talk about? Like I said, Dean. No shades of gray," Gordon said.

"I know. And I know how you feel…the vampire that killed your sister deserved to die but-"

"Vampire that killed my sister…" he chuckled. "That fang didn't kill her. He turned her into one of them. So I hunted her down and killed her myself."

Bridget's eyes widened. "You did what?"

"You heard me," he said and put the knife closer so she had to arch her head back against him. "I killed her…chopped her head clear off. She wasn't my sister anymore, she wasn't human. I didn't blink and neither would you."

"And this is being human?" Bridget asked referring to the knife at her neck.

"You should really watch what you say right now," he reminded her.

"You knew they weren't hurting people. You knew and you didn't care," said Sam, eyes on the knife at his girlfriend's throat.

"Care about what? A nest of vampires suddenly acts nice? Takin' a little time out from sucking innocent people? And we're supposed to but that? Trust me. It doesn't change what they are. They're all the same and I can prove it," he grabbed Bridget's arm and dragged the knife across it causing her to grimace and pulled her forward towards the vampire, putting the blade back at her throat. Dean pulled his gun on Gordon at that point, watching the madman reel her around to the vampire.

"Let her go," Dean ordered.

"Relax, if I wanted her dead I'd have slit her throat while I had her. I'm just proving a point," he said and held her bleeding arm above the vampire's head, letting her blood drip onto her face. Like they knew she became all fangs and hissing. "See?" Gordon said. "They're all the same. Still wanna save her. Look. They're evil. Blood thirsty."

Suddenly her face morphed back and she turned her head away. "No…no."

"You hear her, Gordon," Sam said, he had managed to move closer to Bridget without setting an alarm off with Gordon.

"No…no…," she repeated.

"She doesn't want my blood," Bridget told him and moved away from him, she wrapped her hand around her injured forearm and took a step back.

Sam immediately grabbed her and pulled her to him, moving her to his other side farthest from Gordon. "We're done here."

"Sam, get her out of here," Dean said and Sam nodded picking her up out of the chair. "Bridge, you stay here, just in case since you're bleeding and all."

She nodded her head, inspecting her cut. It was still bleeding nicely but it wouldn't need stitches. Hurt like a bitch too.

"Get out of my way," Gordon said.

"Sorry," Dean shook his head.

"You're not serious."

"Try him," Bridget snorted and sat on the edge of the table, swinging her feet back and forth. "I dare you."

"You want those vampires you gotta go through me," Dean said.

Gordon put his knife on the table. "Fine."

Dean caught the hint and put his gun down. Bridget moved to grab the weapons. "Man to man fight. Too bad I can't-"

She was cut off as Gordon back handed her across the face, sending her reeling backwards into a table before sucker punching Dean and picking his knife off the table. Dean managed to knock it out of his hand before he was sent through a table. Gordon was moving in on him, "You're a hunter. You're not like your brother or his sweet little girlfriend."

"Who you calling sweet?"

He turned around and Bridget spun a roundhouse kick, catching him in the face. She doubled back and kicked up, meeting his chest and sending him into the glass cabinet. Dean grabbed him and jabbed him twice in the face before putting him in a headlock and calmly walking him into the door head first. "Oops," he mumbled. "Sorry."

With Bridget's help they tied him to the chair and waited for Sam to return. Two hours later the sun was rising and they heard the front door open. Sam came in and stopped, first seeing Gordon tied to a chair then Dean's busted lip and the slight discoloring near Bridget's eye. He turned her face slightly to look at it. "Did I miss anything?"

"Nothing much," Dean shrugged and watched Sam look at the cut on his girlfriend's arm. "I'm fine by the way."

"Lenore get out okay?" Bridget asked as Sam tied the piece of cloth tighter on her arm.

"Yeah," he looked at Gordon who looked thoroughly pissed, "All of them did."

"Then I guess our work here is done," Dean said and looked at Gordon. "How you doin', Gordy? Gotta tinkle yet?" He nodded. "All right. We'll call someone in two or three days, have 'em come out, untie you," he placed the knife way out of Gordon's reach.

"Ready to go, Dean?" Bridget asked, standing next to Sam.

"Not yet," he looked at Gordon. "I guess this is goodbye…it's been real," he punched Gordon in the face, causing the chair to tip over. He nodded and looked at Sam and Bridget. "Okay. I'm good now. We can go."

Once outside Dean sighed and turned to Sam. "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Clock me one."

"What?" he asked.

"Come on. I won't even hit you back. Let's go," he braced himself for the hit.

"No," he said stunned.

"Let's go, you get a freebie! Hit me, come on."

He scoffed, "You look like you just went twelve rounds with a block of cement, Dean. I'll take a rain check," he said.

"I wish we never took this job because everything got jacked up."

"What do you mean?" Bridget asked.

"Think about all the hunts we went on our whole lives, Sam," he looked at Bridge. "Including when I met you."

"Okay," Sam said.

"What if we killed things that didn't deserve to die? You know, I mean, the way Dad raised us…"

"Dean, after what happened to Mom…Dad did the best he could."

"I know he did. But the man wasn't perfect. I mean the way he raised us to hate those things, and man, I hate 'em. I do. When I killed that vampire last night at the mill, I didn't even think about it. Hell, I even enjoyed it."

"You didn't kill Lenore," Bridget said.

"Yeah, but every instinct told me to. I was gonna kill her, I was gonna kill 'em all."

"Yeah, Dean, but you didn't. And that's what matters," Sam said matter of factly.

He shook his head. "Yeah…because you're a pain in my ass."

Sam laughed. "Guess I might have to stick around and be a pain in the ass then."

"Thanks…"

"Don't mention it," Sam said.

"Sam has to stay anyway," Bridget tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I haven't had sex this week. I'm getting cranky."

Dean groaned and shook his head as he got in the car, "You get your own room tonight then. Mines goin' down the hall. I can hear you through the walls if I don't."

"I'll just have to be extra loud," she smiled, sitting in the middle.

"Oh dear God, I'd rather be with the vampires," Dean shook his head and took off driving down the freshly lit road towards their next destination, wherever that would be.