Author's Note:

Sonicblue99: I would love to answer your questions but seeming as though I don't know what they are... I hope this chapter answers some of them?:) If not, the next one will!

LittleSilence: Lucky for you, I tend to update once every day or every two days depending on how crazy my schedule is!

Dani: I was planning on going a little more Auish than incorporating anything that will relate to Sam and Dean as 'anti-christs'. To answer your question, they aren't quite full-fledged demons but they are still quite powerful. Pure blooded demons still fear them;)

Babyreaper: So happy to see you on yet another one of my stories! Thanks for the continued support!

Souless666: I hope I continue to hold your interest!

CHAPTER TWO: Closing In

"It smells funny." Dean crinkled his nose at the foul smell of cow manure as he drove their 67' Chevy Impala down the country road.

Sam rolled his eyes as he grabbed the newspaper he had casually thrown in the back seat. "Says here the town has been dealing with some droughts, crop failures, you name it."

Dean smiled with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "They'll be lining up to sign on." He said excitedly.

"That's the plan." Sam responded with distractedly as he thought back to his conversation with that old hunter a state back.

"I just want to talk." Bobby pleaded, glancing towards the other end of the alley just waiting for his brother to show up.

Sam scoffed, "Yeah, because all you hunters ever want is to talk." The tall demon crossed his arms, his impatience with his brother growing.

"It's about Mary."

That stopped Sam. How dare this hunter bring up their mother? Oh was he going to gut this bitch.

Bobby took a defensive step back when he saw the demon's fists clench, obviously angered by his comment.

"My name is Bobby Singer; I'm a friend of Mary and John Winchester's."

The conversation was cut short by Dean strolling down the alley, eyeing the old hunter like he was a bacon cheeseburger.

"Sammy?"

Dean's use of his hated nickname brought Sam back from the memory. Shaking his head to clear it, he threw the newspaper back to its original position.

"We almost there?" The taller demon asked, anxious to get started.

"We're 'bout an hour out. Try to get some beauty rest, Sammy. God knows you need it." With a smirk, Dean turned up the Metallica that had been playing softly from the radio.

….

Bobby was mentally beating himself up over the conversation he remembered having with Sam. Maybe if he hadn't immediately mentioned the kid's mom, he would've listened.

"Sir?" The motel clerk asked, trying to hand the gruff looking man in front of him back his credit card. "You're in room 103."

With a curt nod, Bobby grabbed his card and keys from the scrawny, pale kid in front of him.

After going back out to his old pick-up, he pulled around to park closer to his room while not giving a shit about his parking, going in and setting his stuff down.

Because John always had impeccable timing, Bobby's phone started ringing the second he had plopped on the couch.

"Yeah?" He said flatly, exhaustion seeping into his voice after driving 8 hours straight.

"I'm in town. Text me the motel you're at and room number and I'll be there as soon as I can." John's voice was full of unshed emotion from even the thought of coming face to face with his sons he had never properly met. Sure, he had been around until Dean was about three years old, but doubted he even remembered him.

Bobby ran a tired hand down his face and shut his eyes, mentally preparing himself to deal with an amped up John. "Yeah, I'll get right on that."

…

"Look at this kid, I bet he'd sell his soul to bulk up." Dean whispered as they strolled into the run-down motel.

Sam whacked his brother upside the head as he strolled up to the front desk, getting out his wallet from his back pocket. "One room." He said flatly, sliding his fake credit card to the kid.

After running the card, the desk clerk handed it back to the demon along with a room key. "Room 105 gentleman."

Sam nodded slightly, gesturing for Dean to follow who had gotten distracted by the magazine rack.

They pulled the Impala around, parking a space away from the tan pick-up that had maneuvered in the spot crooked.

"If you can't fucking park it, don't drive it." Dean said with disgust as he admired his parking job before Sam shoved him into the room.

The elder of the two stripped off his leather jacket, placing it carefully over one of the chairs. "I'm gonna shower. I can still smell that old drunk on me."

Sam waited for the shower to start running before he whipped out his laptop, typing the name 'Bobby Singer' into any database he could. As he waited for the damn thing to load, he hung up their map, taking note of which town they'd be in by tomorrow night.

His computer finally done loading, Sam found reports upon reports of different crimes any hunter worth his salt would have; grave desecration, credit card fraud, manslaughter. His curiosity getting the better of him, he typed in 'John Winchester'.

Although they had heard the name in the past, hell who hadn't heard that name, the brother's never made the connection. They always figured it was a coincidence and never continued with the topic that they could in some insane way be related to one of the best hunter's in the US.

It's crazy, right?

At the sound of the shower being turned off, Sam shut his laptop and walked over to the map, pretending to eye it thoughtfully.

Dean walked out of the shower, fully dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, towel drying his hair.

"Ready to get started? I'll take the east side of town, you take the west and we meet back here in two hours?" Sam asked, itching to close some deals.

"Sounds good, I bet I can close more deals then you." Dean sent a wink towards his brother, ignoring the glare Sam sent back.

….

Bobby was jerked awake by the pounding on his motel room door.

"I'm coming!" He yelled, aggravation lacing his tone. "Idjit." He muttered as he opened the door, not surprised to see John walk in.

"Mary's car. It's right there!" He stammered out, pointing to a black Chevy Impala that had parked a space away from Bobby's pickup.

"Are you sure?" The old hunter asked skeptically, believing John had lost his marbles.

"Positive. I'd know that car anywhere. They gotta be here." John shoved his way farther into the motel room, Bobby closing the door firmly behind him.

"I guess findin' them won't be hard. What's your plan?"

Before John could respond, he was cut off by the familiar roar of the Impala coming to life and leaving the parking lot.

"I'll find their room, you go see if you can talk some sense into Sam." Bobby nodded, agreeing with the plan. "But, Bobby?" John continued, drawing his friend's attention back to him, "Stay away from Dean."

As much as it hurt him to say, John knew his eldest son was the 'shoot first ask questions later' kind of demon.

With that, the two hunters parted ways.

…...

TBC

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