Well you should know the drill by now. I apologize for taking so long to update and then I lie and tell you it will be less of a wait next time, and blah blah blah. I'll just take the time now to say I apologize in advance for all the times I take forever to update. I just want you to know, however, that I will never, and I mean never, quit on any of my stories. This I solemnly swear.

Anyway, now onto the continuation of the story. Thanks for reading!!!

Silence filled the room, disturbed only by the sounds of Dean's breathing, his chest heaving as his breaths became laboured. The dagger still clutched in his hand, his eyes still staring at the smooth skin of his abdomen, the truth suddenly hit him. But he wouldn't accept it.

"Change me back." He knew it was a useless thing to say. There was nothing Kate could do to alter what he was – even if she had been willing – and apparently she was aware of this too, for she began to laugh. "Change you back? You know that's impossible Dean."

"I don't care!" The Winchester took a step forward, dagger rising dangerously. Kate cast the weapon an amused look, her smirk never faltering. "Please Dean, you're completely overreacting. You should be thanking us."

"Shut the hell up," snarled Dean, his knuckles turning white as he tightened his grip on the hilt. "Tell me exactly what you did to me or else I'll kill you." Kate's eyebrows rose at the threat but she did not seem intimidated by the warning. "You already know Dea-"

"Just tell me!" The Winchester roared, and Kate sighed, shifting her weight as she placed a hand on her hip. Dean needed to hear the words. "I turned you." She stated simply, and then added, "We were going to kill you but I thought you showed promise. Something inside of you that was… well, interesting." Dean's eyes narrowed. "So I turned you and now you're one of us."

"I'm not one of you." The Winchester growled, shaking his head slowly. "I'll never be a-"

"Killer?" asked Kate, ending his sentence. "You kill for a living Dean."

"No, I hunt evil things. Things like you."

"And you." She quickly cut in to add. "Besides, soon things will change. You think the sunlight is painful? The thirst hasn't hit you yet, and once it does, you'll know what true pain feels like."

"The thirst?"

"The crave for blood. Human blood."

Dean tried to shake the words from his mind but could not help but fathom the near future. If Kate was indeed telling the truth, and if he was, in fact, a turned vampire, than he would soon grow hungry, and just as she had said, he would crave human blood. But even now Dean was having a hard time accepting the fact that he was a creature he hunted, a creature of the dark. He still had time though. Time to figure this out and somehow find a cure. A way to reverse the affects and transform him into a human again, a living being. There had to be a way before-

"You can feel it, can't you?" Kate asked, interrupting the Winchester's thoughts. He gave her a puzzled look, not understanding her words. "The thirst is already upon you," she purred. "You can already smell it, taste it, crave it. Your throat is dry, itchy."

"I won't give in."

Ignoring Dean's reply, Kate continued. "Soon it will begin to hurt. A stinging at the back of your throat and then a throbbing. The thirst will burn like fire through your veins, driving you insane. You'll feel it inside of you, always present, digging into your very core with ache, with such desire, such want."

"I said I won't give in!" Dean snapped, causing Kate to smirk.

"Maybe not for a while, but soon it will become unbearable. You won't be able to resist, and eventually you'll act on basic impulse. A passing man, woman, or child, and you'll attack. You'll try to hold back but your teeth will tear into their flesh and finally your thirst will be quenched, if only for a while."

Dean remained silent for a moment, trying hard not to imagine the chance that she was right. That he would somehow submit to the evilness that now plagued him. For reality was settling within him like a cold, hard pit in his stomach. After a few moments of cold digestion, finally accepting his new reality, he spoke.

"I'm leaving, and you won't be able to stop me."

Kate seemed surprised at this announcement, her brow wrinkling in confusion. "Leaving? Dean, where do you think you'll go? You're not like them anymore," she spat, thrusting her arm towards the window and the city that lay beyond it. "You're not human."

"You can try to stop me if you like," Dean said between gritted teeth, choosing to ignore Kate's statement. "But there's no way in hell I'm staying with you and your pack." He made a move to walk past her, spotting his shirt on the floor by the dresser near the door.

"Hold on there Dean." Kate's arm was held out beside her, blocking his path. "We spared your life. You owe us."

"I owe you nothing." Dean's voice was low, menacing. Kate replied with the same, looming tone.

"Don't you ever deny it Dean. Not after what you've taken away from me. You and your family."

"Your mate? He deserved to die. Just like all of you do."

Twisting her arm sharply, Kate wrenched the Winchester to the side, bright sunlight spilling onto his skin. As he screamed in pain, the knife he had been holding dropping to the ground uselessly, the agony of burning once again ripped through his body. Kate leaned forward, her hand still around his neck.

"We all deserve to die?" She snarled, Dean sinking to his knees as his weakened body could barely take the pain. "Then you deserve to die too Dean. Just like all of us, because you're one of us now. Welcome home." And with those words she suddenly released her grip, shoving Dean to the side where he thankfully was cast in shadow.

He watched with tapered eyes as the vampire exited the room, black boots knocking against the wooden planks and sending echoes across the floor, the side of his head resting against the hard ground. Dean waited until her footsteps disappeared and the lingering effects of pain left his body. Heaving himself upwards, he stood on shaky legs, his body still drained of strength. But he needed to leave. Now.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

When he had first seen the message Sam had been stunned. The young Winchester had sat within the car for a good, long moment, contemplating the fact that after four months of silence he had suddenly received a message from his father. After all they had gone through he had wondered hopelessly if he would ever hear from the man again, but he definitely had not been expecting this.

Co-ordinates, just like Dean used to receive when they were on the road together. At first he wondered if the numbers revealed the location of the two hunters, but then he discovered the single word printed below: "Vampires". Sam couldn't believe it. His dad was sending him on a hunt.

And he could hardly believe that he was now driving towards the position of the co-ordinates in his rusty, old car, an antique machete and crossbow stashed in the trunk. Rain pelted the windshield as the headlights cut through the darkness of the storm and lit the empty road before him. A hundred thoughts crowded his mind, mostly questions he could hardly find answers to.

Why was he doing this? He had desired a distraction and he believed this would be as good as any. Or maybe it was the faint connection with his past it would bring him, transporting him back to a time his life wasn't so screwed up. However, through all these simple reasons one became evident, and he realized that he held onto the hope that the co-ordinates may ultimately lead him to his family.

Why hadn't he called his father back? The shame and guilt still deeply present within him held him back from any verbal communication with his family. He had, after all, abandoned them. It was bluntly put but it was still the undeniable truth. He was fully aware of the possibility that the message could have been a distress call, asking for Sam's help if they had been captured, but he highly doubted it.

Why had his father laid this job down on him in the first place? Sam had done some research in an "open until midnight" internet café just earlier and had pulled up some reports on multiple murders within Boston. All evidence clearly led to vampires, and Sam wondered why his brother and father were unable to handle this job themselves. Obviously they were still involved in hunting, but he quickly realized that their attention must be focused solely on the Demon. He feared they may have caught its trail again, but forbid himself to entertain this notion for long.

Clearing his mind of all thoughts, Sam only allowed himself to focus on the road ahead. When he arrived in Boston he'd let himself become absorbed in the hunt and not let a single distraction divert him until each and every one of the bastards were dead. Then he'd figure out what he'd do to try to fix his life, for Sam's future only appeared bleak and empty. As cold as the stormy night outside his windshield.