Here we are. Happy reading. :)

Chapter 1

Dean Winchester had always known how to pack efficiently. It was a skill that had been impressed on him since some of his earliest memories. Yet today, the twenty year old found himself moving slower. He took his time loading up his duffel, using the excuse that he hadn't slept well the night before. For once, his father hadn't questioned him on his poor attempt at a lie. The man understood as well as he did how close to home this hunt was hitting. Dean sighed, secretly wishing that John hadn't picked up the phone the night before, or better yet, that Caleb hadn't called in the first place. Any activity that seemed even remotely related to the monster that had killed Mary Winchester was crucial though, and Dean knew that Caleb would never deny John the chance to get his revenge.

This situation was unlike anything Dean or his father had ever dealt with before though, and that made the young hunter nervous. This monster, which had seemed to only ever stick to the same patterns, rarely even showing up on the Winchesters' radar, had suddenly changed targets. Teenagers were suddenly dying in odd house fires across four states, and all the evidence and witness statements pointed to the thing that had originally killed Dean's mother. A chill ran down his spine when he thought about the sudden change, his real reason for taking his time while packing walking into his room and flopping down on his bed with a disgruntled huff.

"This is wrong," Sam complained, her tone falling just short of a childish whine. "We should all be going after this thing. If it's the thing that killed Mom then we should be sticking together."

"Complaining isn't going to change anything, Sammy," Dean replied tiredly, dropping a couple of knives into his bag. "You know how Dad is. Once he has his mind set on something it would take an earthquake to make him change it." The girl growled in frustration from her position on the bed.

"This is stupid though. I know Caleb's a great hunter and all, but Dad shouldn't be sending you off to investigate this latest death while he sits here safe." Dean zipped up his duffel, shoving it aside as he glanced down at his little sister. She was sprawled across his bed sideways, her long legs dangling off one side and her head nearly hanging off the other. He tried, for her sake, to stop seeing the chubby two year old who clung to his shirt when she got scared laying there, but it was hard not to. He sat down beside her head with a sigh, running his hand through his short, light hair.

"Six people have died, Sam," he started. "People your age. Do you really think Dad's going to let you out of his sight?" The girl didn't answer, but the way her gaze shifted away from his made him frown. She and John had been getting into more fights lately, and each one seemed to be getting progressively worse than the last. "Besides," he continued, choosing not to bring up their mangled family life. "This thing never strikes in the same town twice. Someone has to stay here and be prepared to move if we hear of another death." Sam still refused to meet his gaze, her head gently inclining to lean against the side of his knee.

"But why can't you stay here? If he's worried about me getting involved then he should be worried about you too." Dean resisted the urge to run his hand through his hair again. He knew she was trying to make up an excuse for him to stay. This justification was just a cover for the fact that she didn't want to be left alone with their father though. John Winchester loved his children, but Dean had witnessed the tension between his sister and their father firsthand. He and Sam both knew it couldn't go on forever. One day the tension would become too much, and the siblings dreaded what would happen when it did. Dean absentmindedly began to card his fingers through Sam's light brown hair, offering her what little comfort he could before Caleb's arrival.

"Can you at least try not to kill each other while I'm gone?" he quietly joked, earning a half-hearted chuckle.

"No promises," she murmured in response, finally meeting his green eyes again with her hazel ones. "You think you can give Dad the same stirring speech?" The corner of Dean's mouth lifted in a half-smile as he gently ruffled Sam's hair.

"I don't know," he remarked as he stood up. "It was pretty hard coming up with that one, Sammy. We can't all be brainiacs like you, you know."

"It's Sam," she insisted as she sat up, attempting to fix her hair only to have it ruffled again by her brother's calloused hand. "Jerk," she huffed, quickly smoothing her hair as she stood beside him.

"Whatever you say, Bitch," he replied, watching her disappear down the hallway of the run-down house they were renting. The young hunter swung his bag over his shoulder, heading down the stairs to grab a bite to eat before he would have to leave. He knew he most likely wouldn't be talking to Sam again until he returned. Neither one of them were very good at goodbyes, so he knew the conversation they just had had served as one. When Dean got downstairs, John was scanning their wall of pinned-up articles and photos, scribbling in his journal as he stood there.

"All packed?" the man asked as he closed the leather-bound journal.

"Yes Sir," Dean answered, setting his duffel down on the floor. "Where'd you put the info on the latest victim?" Dean couldn't be sure, but he swore to himself that his father had winced when the question was asked. That made him even more nervous. His father had always been unshakeable. The only times he hadn't seemed stone cold had been when he was with his children. As young children, they had seen a side of him the world never did; a tenderness that had slowly been broken down by time and grief. Now the only moments of weakness that seemed to show through John Winchester's stoic armor came when one or both of them was in danger, and almost every instinct Dean possessed was screaming at him to tell his father to drop this case and move on. That small part of him knew how important this could be though as he took the manila folder from his father's hands. It was the chance of a lifetime; a chance to let Sam have a normal life like she had always wanted, and a chance for their family to finally have some peace.

Bethany Milton's smiling face haunted Dean from the newspaper clipping in the front of the folder. He now understood why his father had flinched. The girl was beautiful, and had long, blonde hair. Her blue eyes and dimples lit up her face the same way Sam's could light up any room she walked into. Even the small nose and pointed chin seemed eerily similar to his baby sister's. The young hunter closed the folder. He had seen enough.

"Dad," he started. "Why can't we just-"

"No Dean. I know what you're thinking, but we can't just give this to someone else. It's too important. I know you're worried about Sam, and I won't lie to you, I am too. We can't lose our heads though, Dean. At least two of the victims lost their mothers the same way you lost yours, so we have to-"

"Wait. What!" Dean exclaimed in shock, pacing the room briefly as he ran his hands through his hair. Dean let slip a nearly hysterical laugh as he turned to face his father once more. "And let me guess: you didn't think this would have been important information for me to know before I left!"

"Listen to me, Dean. I didn't tell you because I knew once you heard this you wouldn't want to go, but I need you to do this for me. We need all hands on deck for this. I would go myself, believe me, but we need an experienced hunter on each side of this. If something happens…" Dean watched in an almost fascinated horror as his father trailed off, running his hand over his face with a care-worn sigh. For the first time since he had been a child, his father seemed genuinely stressed. He noticed the dark circles under the older man's eyes for the first time, and he knew. For once, his father wasn't ordering him to do something. He was pleading.

"What about Sam?" Dean finally asked quietly. "You know she wants to help." John nodded, his head suddenly seeming too heavy for his neck.

"I know, and I'll let her…but only as much as I think she can handle. I'll tell her she should focus more on her schoolwork if she tries to go to far. That'll keep her happy." Dean couldn't help the frown that overtook his face when he heard those words. John was just as worried about being left alone with Sam as she was with him. Before Dean could say anything else though, they heard Caleb's truck pull into the rental's short driveway. John's eyes locked with Dean's for a moment, his silence speaking louder than any cautions he could verbally give his son. They both knew what would happen to Sam if he didn't come back, and that scared them both more than death itself.

Sam walked over to her bedroom window when she heard the truck pull up. Caleb got out as her father and brother went out to meet him, and the man waved up at her from the ground after shaking their hands. She forced a sad smile onto her face as she gently waved back, noticing her father avoiding looking up at her in the window. The teen sighed heavily as the men conversed briefly and then she moved out of view as her father turned to head back into the house. She moved back into view and met her brother's eyes from a distance. His look was comforting, and his eyes seemed to be trying to tell her that everything would be alright. After the truck pulled away though, she pulled her knees up to her chest. She knew there were things about this case she hadn't been told, and as hard as Dean had tried, he'd been unable to completely mask the touch of fear in his eyes.

The thought sent a shudder through her body, and she pulled her knees impossibly closer to her chest. She knew that if Dean was scared, their father must have been too. The girl bit her lip, dreading the time she would have to spend with her father because she knew the truth. Some days, it felt like a crushing weight, and sometimes, like now, it drew tears from her eyes. The truth was her father wasn't really frightened for her. She knew that fear had left him long ago. Dean had always been the perfect child. She had fought John every step of the way. No. He didn't fear losing his daughter. What John Winchester really feared the most was that if something happened to her, he would lose Dean, and there would be no going back.

Wow. I went back and read this…It's pretty angsty for a first chapter. (Not very long either now that I think about it.) Please tell me what you think. I've never written a story for this fandom before, and this one just wouldn't leave my brain alone until I wrote it so feedback would be appreciated.