A/N: Let me start by saying I'm SOOOO SORRY! I got sick with a flu like thing last week and have spent a lot of time sleeping. I just haven't felt up to writing. (Bows head in SHAME) But I'm back now, and ready to write again. Here's chapter four--and in case you forgot, I still don't own Sam or Dean or Supernatural.

Note: I don't remember what the vampire's "lair" looked like, so forgive me for inaccuracies, and feel free to correct.

WARNING: For now on there will be some language and some gore.

Dean sat there for a while.

The rest of the vampires had climbed into shaky hammocks, giving into the death like slumber. But not Dean. Dean wouldn't let himself give into the exhaustion and pain. Going into a dreamless sleep would have been great--no guilt and no hurt. But Dean hated himself far too much to give himself that simple pleasure.

His family was disgusted with him. They had left and they certainly were coming back for Dean. Dean had one chance to get away, and he blew it. No, more than that. Dean had freakin' attacked his own family. His own flesh and blood that was risking it all to rescue him from this inhumanity.

Dean started to black out, his new body yearning desperately for the sleep. Fuzzy black dots danced before him. Reluctantly, he rose to he slowly rose to his feet and was smacked in the head with waves of dizziness. Feeling slightly drunk, he stumbled over to the hammock he knew as his own and collapsed into it. But before Dean could think more, before he even had a chance to sink into the hammock, Dean's eyes were closed and his brain was off.

So Dean slept.

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"Well. There's a webpage about vampires. Says that if a vampire cuts his or her own head off it'll be reversed."

That's a load of crap. "Yeah, just in time for them to die from having their damn head cut off," John grunted. He rubbed his forehead and scrolled down, searching for any mention of reversing a vampire attack. Finally he powered the laptop off and turned to a pile of books John had retrieved from his truck. Books were always more of his thing than webpage's.

Sam, who was hunched over his laptop, straightened and moved his mouse up and down the screen twice before standing. "I'll go get us dinner," he offered. Great. John needed break from his book smart sun desperately. So John nodded and began flipping through a worn book, not really expecting to find anything in its yellow pages.

John slammed the book shut and rubbed his temples once more. Like this was really what he needed--they should be demon hunting right now. Inspired, John dragged the laptop over once more and did some research. His lips parted slightly in surprise as he scanned through websites and emails.

When Sam got back, gripping a Burger Kind bag in his hand, John was packing up.

"Are you going somewhere?" Sam asked in shock as he dumped the greasy bag on a motel table.

Without even bothering to look up, John replied that yes, he was. Then of course he had to explain that the demon was coming to Salvation, and they had to get there now. They were so close, so close to sending a bullet through the heart of the evil creature. Nothing was more important.

Nothing.

"Dad, we can't leave Dean!" cried Sam. Past Sam was an open window. The sun was setting. The sky was a mix of deep pinks and purples and an amazing peace that the world below the sky didn't seem to possess.

"Sam, the demon is going to be there tomorrow night. We got to get there. Now." Glancing up at Sam and away from the open window, he could see the shock rolling off from Sam and an anger taking its place. Oh God, here we go.

"We are not leaving Dean.

"Sam." John stopped his urgent packing and sat down. That bag of food was looking pretty good to John's starving stomach, but John brushed his hunger aside. "The damage is done. Nothing is going to change for Dean in the next two days. We kill the fuckin' demon; we come back and kill the fuckin' vampire inside Dean."

"Things are going to change," Sam insisted. "His mind--you even had said before--"

"Things were different before."

Sam considered, clearly searching for a compromise. He found one. "What if we stay here tonight and try to get Dean tomorrow morning. If we can't get him right away, we'll head to Salvation. If we can get him, we'll head to Salvation."

Now it was John's turn to carefully consider. "We won't have enough time. Salvation is a few hours away--and we'll need to find the baby, the house . . ." John trailed off.

"We've done it before with limited time," Sam pointed out.

"We had three of us before!" John yelled. There was a long pause, and Sam's next words were quiet and calculating.

"If we try and rescue him tomorrow, we might have three of us."

"We might not," John suggested meekly.

"Dad!"

"Fine," John reluctantly told Sam "Fine." Turning away from his youngest son, John snatched a bag of fries from the Burger King bag and went back to browsing through old books.

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Night came too quickly for Dean, who was still tired. But it rolled around anyway, and Dean found himself unable to slip back into slumber. Already the rest of the vampires were up and about, none were even in the room anymore. Dean heaved himself up and planted his feet firmly on the floor. No dizziness this time around.

He searched around for a doorway and finally found two. There was a separate bedroom off to the side, the one Kate slept in alone. Of course, the rest were confined to the large room. Walking away with a shake of his head he found the other doorway and walked out in frenzy.

Vampires were everywhere, and they were wild. They slipped into the night and back in again. There were girls dancing and beer bottles littered about. One vampire was really wild. He had large muscles and looked drunk--though how a vampire could get drunk eluded Dean. Could they drink beer? The vampire had a beer bottle in his left hand as he talked to a girl. If Dean had seen the girl in a club, he probably would have hit on her. She danced and swung her hips, all the time sipping blood.

The vampire saw Dean and said something to the girl. Then he stumbled over, a wide grin on his face. Pointed teeth seemed to point at Dean. "Want some blood, Dean-o?" he asked in a slurred voice. What was his name again?

Dean-o? DEAN-O?

"Sure." Dean knew the only way they'd ever let him out into the crisp night was by earning their trust, and Dean intended to get out. Soon. The vampire grinned again and held out the beer bottle, which turned out to be a mix of beer and blood. "On second though I'll pass." Dean turned away from the bottle.

"Your loss!" the drunken vampire called out. Ryan, that was it.

That's when Dean noticed the tall, proud barn doors. Quietly, he slinked over and pushed on a door. It started to swing open but Dean caught it and exhaled. He had half of his body in the cold air now, just a little more . . .

"And where do you think your going?" came a familiar voice. Dean whirled around to see Kate standing there, one hand on her hips.

"Though I might get some Chinese food," Dean explained, giving her the famous smile. It worked--in an amused way she came over and grabbed his arm swinging him back into the barn and slamming the door.

"I'm not letting you leave." Okay, so maybe it didn't work, Dean realized. Giving her another smile, he walked away. A hunger was clawing at him, but Dean was scared to drink blood. He remembered what had happened last time . . .

Dean snatched up the blood and gulped it down.

Suddenly a new energy flowed into him as the blood flowed down his throat. Warmth and life spread through him. Dean stood and confidently walked over to the closed door. He knew he could open it--just had to tap into that supernatural vampire strength.

A moment later and the door was open. Dean walked out--it was a lot more quite. Kate was crying, tears falling out of dark eyes on the dirty floor. There was whispering and groups of vampires huddled together. But then, almost at the same time, their heads lifted and they stared at Dean.

Kate wiped away her tears fast and replaced it with a glare. "We broke him," she whispered. Dean came over.

"Got any more blood?" Dean asked. He wanted more, more, more. The thirst was overpowering.

"Maaaybe," slurred Ryan. A sexy girl smiled and held out a small bottle halfway full. Dean winked and took it, pouring the blood down his throat.

"So he's one of us now?" came a sweet girl's voice. Dean glanced at a surprising innocent looking girl--but somehow he knew her looks deceived. She was the last victim. No, not a victim, Dean thought. A vampire is not a victim. Dean is not a victim, not anymore. He was a vampire, and happy to be one.

"The s-sun rising," came Kate's hoarse whisper. We crawled over to her hammock in a private bedroom and sprawled out in it.

"Already?" Dean asked, turning to look for the rest of the vampire's reaction. They gave him nods and went over to there own hammocks.

"My names Jess," the sexy girl informed him. Wiggling her butt at him, she pranced over to a hammock and pointed to one across from her. "And that's your hammock."

He would have loved to say the whole thing was hazy and foggy. He would have loved to say he didn't remember how thirsty and happy he had felt. He would have loved to say it was dream like.

But honestly, Dean remembered the whole thing as clear as anything.

For the first time in his life, Dean isolated himself. He stood off by himself and turned away if anyone bothered to look his way, even when Jess looked like she would have loved to come over and hang on to Dean's every word.

Suddenly Dean made a choice. It wasn't giving up, not really. He would do it to save others. He would do it in a few days if no one rescued him. He would do it if he couldn't escape. Escape the inhumanity.

Dean would slice his own head off.

A/N: And that's where I leave you. Thank you readers, and please review.