As Dean rolled the Impala up to the remains of the Roadhouse, he immediately felt that something was different. Bobby pulled up in the truck just as Dean opened his trunk to remove some weapons, tossing a select few to his little brother. Bobby looked furtively around the forested area, making sure nothing seemed suspicious. As he moved towards the boys, he picked up the end of the conversation between the brothers.
"I don't know Sam, but something just ain't right," Dean looked tense, trying to explain.
"I can't see that much would have changed since then, Dean."
"Hey, I may not be psychic, but I'm a damn good hunter. Something was here recently; something bad." He retorted, stuffing a .45 down the back of his jeans.
"Fine, let's check it out." Sam sighed, turning towards the dirt path, but a hand stopped him. He looked to see Bobby beside him, holding him back.
"Sam, how about you stay with Ellen and keep her occupied while Dean and I check out the place. Don't want to upset her any more than necessary. You know you're the best with these situations." He pleaded.
Sam sighed, looking into the passenger seat of the truck. Ellen sat there listlessly; it seemed the trip back to the Roadhouse hit her hard. The only home she truly had was gone. "Alright, she looks a little worse for wear." Sam conceded, tossing the gun to Bobby.
"We'll be back soon," Dean shouted back, already walking toward the site, Bobby trailing a few feet behind. Sam nodded, going back to Ellen in the car.
As Dean approached the Roadhouse, he checked the area for any suspicious activity. He grimaced as he once again passed the burned remains of Ash, their mullet-rocking computer genius. Lying about four feet away, was a hunting knife stuck underneath the debris; yet it wasn't charred like the rest of the items. "Hey Bobby," Dean called, picking up the knife, "You seen this knife before, looks like someone dropped it here recently."
Bobby sidled over to Dean, taking the knife and inspecting the blade and hilt. "Huh, looks familiar, but I can't put my finger on it." Bobby looked up and nodded his head in the direction they came. "It's strange but, there's a fresh set of tire tracks coming from the highway, but going into the forest."
Dean looked over Bobby to see the tracks cutting through the field, away from the main road. As he scanned the surroundings, he noticed a darkened area closer to the debris. Briskly walking over to the earth, he dragged two finger across the stain and smelled the dirt. "Someone's been injured here recently. It's blood." He brushed the dirt off his hands as he rose from a squatting position. "Don't know what to make of it."
"Well," Bobby gestured towards the car, "maybe we should salvage some stuff for Ellen, help her out a bit. We should bury some of the bodies we find too. It's only respectful." He lifted his hat, scratching his balding head, waiting for Dean's response. Dean nodded and they walked back to the cars.
Sam got in the drivers seat beside Ellen. She didn't even acknowledged him as he sat back and turned on the radio. He didn't want to push her too much, because he uinderstood how she felt. He just leaned back, comfortable with the silence and the soft music coming from the station.
"That bar had so many good memories." Sam was startled by Ellen's sudden statement. Looking over towards her, she seemed to look straight through him, her mind elsewhere. "It was a nice place; so many people came and went. That was where Jo grew up; where I lived with my husband, I can't believe it's all gone. Every keepsake I had of my family and friends was in there." She turned her head once more to look out the window.
Sam empathized, knowing why she looked so defeated. "I know how it feels, Ellen, but you have to be strong. Don't let them think they won. Not everything was destroyed because you still have your memories. They can't take that away from you." Sam laid a comforting hand on Ellen's shoulder. "It will get better, don't you worry." He smiled reassuringly, "maybe we can kick some demon ass along the way. I bet you want first pick." At that, Ellen glanced back to give Sam a ghost of a smile.
"The boys are coming back," she said as Sam spotted Dean and Bobby heading back to the car.
Dean walked up to the passenger window as Ellen was rolling it down. "Hey Ellen, you doing alright?" he asked gruffly.
"Not bad. So, what did ya find?"
Bobby came from behind Dean, leaning on the other side of the window. "Looks like someone's been here recently. Whoever it was got into a fight with who knows what and I think it stole their car. By the tire tracks, looks like it was a pick up." He placed the knife on the window sill, "either of you recognize this?"
Ellen paled, "Where did you get that?" she asked franticly, snatching the knife from Bobby's fingers.
"You know it?" Dean said, surprised.
"This was my husbands, but I gave it to Jo just before she left." Ellen paused, "Oh no, it can't be, why did she come back? Where's my girl?" Beginning to turn hysterical, Sam grabbed her from behind to stop Ellen hurting herself.
"Ellen, stop. If Jo was here, and we don't know that for sure, then we will be able to track her down and get her out." Sam released her as she calmed down. He slowly took the hunting knife from her and examined it.
Suddenly, Sam dropped the knife, bracing his hands over his face, as a searing pain wrenched across his head and down his spine. Arching backwards, he moaned as another flash of pain tore through his body. Dean raced over to the drivers side, ripping open the door. "SAMMY! I'm right her buddy. Come on Sammy, snap out of it!" Dean held his brother as Sam doubled over.
"What's wrong, what's going on?" Ellen cried confused.
Yet, Sam couldn't hear anything as images rushed into his brain. It was dusk, there was a run down barn set in the distance…small flickers of amber light emerging from the rotting cracks apparent in the collapsing structure…table next to the door, lined with weapons, liquor, and bloody tools…moaning in the back ground…tools removed from table…rotting flesh and blood stains… a man strapped to a table far away, face indistinguishable, struggling with the bonds, screaming silently towards the shadow…blond hair matted and bloodstained…knife unsheathed…screams of pain…Suddenly Sam was ripped from the vision, the blinding pain receding. "Get in the car. Now." He finally rasped.
Light swam before her eyes as Jo slowly awoke to a dull ache, spreading from her skull and down across her shoulders and ribs. As her sight adjusted to the lamps burning, she looked down to find that her feet were no where near the ground. Confused and a little groggy, she glanced up to find her arms lashed together with rope, tied to one of the numerous rotting support beams holding up the dilapidated roof. Fear was starting to penetrate her calm demeanour as she struggled frantically with the bindings. However, the rope only wound tighter because of her weight.
"I'd stop doing that if I were you; you'll damage those pretty hands," a strong feminine voice drawled from the shadows, " I wouldn't want you to break something."
Sure enough, a soft popping sound soon caused Jo to cry out in pain, "Son of a bitch, why are you doing this? Who are you?" she asked, desperately trying to free her dislocated shoulder from further pain.
"I'm a mutual friend," the woman smirked as she stepped out of the shadows.
Signalling to someone out of sight, Jo found herself slowly descending until her feet gingerly touched the ground. She breathed a sigh of relief as the pain eased from her shoulder. Turning towards the woman now sauntering towards her, Jo braced herself for an attack.
"You didn't answer my question." Jo spat.
"I'm Kate, your two hunter friends killed my mate. I'm here for pay back." Kate smiled, revealing fangs, glinting in the dim lighting. Jo paled, finally realizing what she was surrounded by; she spun herself around to see the other vampires closing in. Ignoring the pain, she wrenched herself upwards and swung her legs, landing a double kick on the nearest enemy, who flew onto the floor. Regaining her stance, she used the rope as momentum to swing herself around, attacking anything near to her with multiple high kicks and jabs. She knew she was fighting a losing battle. Tackled from behind,. the renewed pain blossoming in her shoulder drowned out the shouts coming from the group. She realized that she was no longer suspended but tied to a plain wooden rocking chair.
Kate wiped the blood from her mouth, caught by one of Jo's frenzied attacks. "Relax, darling." She sneered, licking the blood from her hand, "we don't need to kill you yet. That would be such a waste."
The rest of the nest fell back from their prisoner, one turned on the radio and poured a liberal amount whisky into the numerous shot glasses littering the table. Kate walked over to the group, picking up one of the shot glasses and downing it. A stockier vamp strolled to the far end of the barn, nearing another set of tables; Jo noticed a body secured to the farthest one. She strained to get a better look but the view was blocked by Kate, who began to walk back to Jo, now holding a buck hunting knife.
"Thought you said you weren't going to kill me." Jo said, stubbornly jutting her chin in defiance. Kate clamped her hand around Jo's jaw, squeezing until she extracted a painful cry.
"True. But that doesn't mean I won't taste you." Kate quickly sliced open a shallow cut along Jo's cheekbone, receiving a quiet hiss in return. Kate straddled Jo in her chair and bent down to lick her oozing cut; leaning her head back, Kate moaned as the fresh blood flowed down her throat. Jo shuddered, unsure that she could get out of this alive. Sensing her fear, Kate laughed and looked into Jo's eyes, "When I'm done sweetheart, you'll never get out." She turned to the group, lifting off Jo's lap, "I wonder, we could make you one of us. Wouldn't that be fun, watching the Winchesters hunt down one of their only friends." The group laughed, glancing towards Jo, showing the silver flash of their irises.
Jo was becoming increasingly afraid, but noticed that Kate now slinked towards the body still half in shadow. "I think this one is of some importance to you," she stated, not bothering to turn and address Jo. "Maybe we should have a show and tell," her eyes gleamed silver as she pushed the table into the light. Jo gasped, struggling with her bonds to get to the prone figure. He was in bad condition. Shallow but extensive scratches were all over his body, and he was pale from the blood loss. Yet, there was no mistaking that beat up face; it was Ash.