Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em … still wanna…

Chapter One

Six years later..

12-year-old Sam Winchester watched the scenery speed by from the back seat of the family '67 Impala as he, his father and older brother Dean drove down the turnpike toward their new – albeit temporary – home, just one of dozens he'd had in his life. The countryside was in full autumn bloom and Sam couldn't understand all the jokes disparaging New Jersey, the so-called "sewer of New York." It made more sense to him now why it was called the Garden State. He didn't mind that it was getting colder. At least it wasn't Minnesota which last week had already seemed to be threatening the first snow of the year.

Shifting again, Sam tried desperately to get comfortable, which was becoming increasingly difficult with his ever-changing body. He just knew he was on the verge of one hell of a growth spurt, though he was finally glad to be rid of the pudginess that had gripped him the past two years, a constant fodder for Dean's teasing. Sam could at least hope that the spurt would include some height. Then maybe he would someday be able to take Dean down in one of their daily sparring sessions. Dean certainly enjoyed rubbing Sam's constant defeats in his face. But Sam figured karma owed him big time.

Shifting once more, Sam could hear bits and pieces of the conversation in the front seat between father and eldest son. The hunt of the moment was looking to possibly be the Jersey Devil and Sam could feel Dean's excitement at potentially finding and killing such a legendary creature, if it in fact existed.

Though John Winchester would never would never openly acknowledge it effort to keep Dean in line, Sam knew he was positively beaming with pride over his eldest's enthusiasm for the "family business." He also equally knew John wished his youngest would display the same vigor. It had become an increasing strife between them and often led to some real blow-outs. Sam did what he could – after all, he was a researching machine – but he just didn't have the heart of a hunter. He enjoyed books and schoolwork and soccer and all the normal things boys his age should get to do. But he had no say in the matter. Never had. Not since fate had dealt the Winchesters a cruel hand by inviting a yellow-eyed demon to come to their Lawrence, Kansas home the night of Sam's sixth month birthday and ripping his mother from him in a violent inferno over his crib. His future had been pretty much set that night as John chose to pursue a life of hunting fueled by the desire to find the evil sonofabitch and enact his revenge. His boys were just going to have to step up and go along, no matter what other destiny life had in store for them.

Sam again looked at Dean, who occasionally glanced over the seat at him. Yep, he'd taken to hunting like a fish to water. And Sam knew it put Dean in an awkward position whenever Sam and John went at it. Sam didn't want that for Dean. He idolized the guy. Dean was his big brother, his hero. He'd practically been raised by him as John went on more and more hunts without them. But Sam couldn't help who he was and what he wanted and he knew the day would come when he'd have to make a final stand against his father and go his own way. But that wasn't today.

Sam again turned his attention to the conversation. He could hear John and Dean talking about the Devil and discussing the details from the research he himself had done. Opening up his knapsack, Sam took out the pages and began reading over what he had found.

Apparently the most popular version of the Jersey Devil legend begins in the 18th century when a woman named Deborah Smith immigrated from England to the Pine Barrens in southern New Jersey to marry a Mr. Leeds, who sought to have several heirs to carry on the family name. Consequently, his new wife was continually pregnant. After bearing twelve healthy children, Deborah was dismayed to find herself pregnant with her thirteenth. She cursed the unborn child, declaring a preference to bear the Devil's child rather than another Leeds. Apparently, her wish was granted as the new child bore cloven hooves, claws and a tail. The horrific newborn proceeded to eat the other Leeds children and the parents before escaping through the chimney to begin its reign of terror.

There are several variations of the Leeds tale, such as one claiming that when Leeds became pregnant with her thirteenth child, she remarked, "May it be a devil!" The belief that a deformed child was the work of Satan or a curse was still common during the 1800s.

John had come across some articles about missing children in the Morris County area, miles from Pine Barrens, but another part of the legend had led him to believe their may exist a connection between the disappearances and the Devil:

An important piece of the legend concerns its supposed home at the Blue Hole located near Winslow, New Jersey. According to popular folklore, the blue hole is not only bottomless but also acts as one of the many gateways to Hell. The water in the hole is abnormally cold, even during the summer months, averaging only 58 degrees Fahrenheit year-round. In addition, the hole is said to have a whirlpool effect on any person who enters it. Unlike many of the surrounding rivers and lakes in the region, the blue hole possesses crystal clear water, which serves as another one of its many eccentric features.

Sam had heard his dad mention that many of the missing children had been found in or near a nearby lake, drowned and frozen to death, even in the summer months. A shiver had gone through Sam at hearing that little tidbit. Even though he was a good swimmer, he didn't care much for cold water, especially water you couldn't see the bottom of (not that he'd ever let dean know that. Just more fuel for the teasing fire).

So here they were, on their way to check out the disappearances in the effort to discover what might be the Jersey Devil. Joy. Sam shifted again, this time with a slight grimace as his joints cracked.

"You gotta take a leak or something?"

Sam glanced back toward the front seat and found Dean looking over at him, a slight smirk on his face.

"Shut up."

"Seriously, Sammy, you keep scowling like that and your face will probably freeze like that. Then what good will you be to me? I count on that baby face and those puppy dog eyes of yours to help me out in a clinch with teachers and old ladies."

"It's Sam and I don't have a baby face."

"Just call 'em like I see' em, Sam-MY."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Alright, knock it off, you two," John finally interjected. It had been a long drive and he could tell from past experience he was going to need to give them all a little freedom from the car and soon. Debating whether to go for food or motel first, he opted for the diner they came upon first. Tomorrow he would find them a small house to rent since he figured they might be here for a while – the Devil was said to be one hell of an elusive creature – and get the boys into school.

He knew Dean would join him in hunting full time in a heartbeat but John felt he owed it to his beloved late wife Mary to see that both her boys at least graduated high school. He knew he didn't have to worry about Sam. The kid was a natural born student, his grades never slipping despite the constant moving around. And he had to give Sam credit. The kid was a researching fiend. An emotional, antagonizing, pain-in-the-behind researching fiend. But damn he loved the kid.

Sam stretched long and good as he climbed from the car and followed his dad and brother up into the diner. It was early evening and the place fairly crowded but the minute the Winchesters stepped through the door all eyes fell on them and a hush came over the room, if only for a moment. As the din began to pick up again, John led the way to a back booth, followed by dean and then Sam. Sam could feel all eyes on the place upon him and could hear people whispering to each other, though about what he couldn't make out. As he sat down a waitress came over and handed them menus, barely glancing at the two older man and addressing only Sam.

"Well, hey there, young fella. What's your name?"

"Sam."

"Well, hi there, Sam," she said with a quiet smile. Sam could swear he saw a slight glistening of moisture in her eyes. "And how old are you?"

Sam looked to his father and Dean but both had their eyes in their menus wondering what to order."

"I'll be 13 in May," he answered a little more quietly.

"Well, welcome to Morristown, Sam. What can I get you?"

After they had finished, John went up to the counter to pay as Sam and Dean made their way toward the door. Again Sam could hear whispers and feel eyes staring at him. He edged a bit closer to Dean, nudging him toward the door.

"Easy there, Pokey," said Dean with an annoying tone." "What's the big hurry?"

"Just tired," Sam lied. "Just want to get to the motel."

"Okay, keep your pantyhose on, Samantha. We'll get you to beddy-pie soon enough." But even as he teased Sam, Dean could sense that something was unnerving his little brother and stayed close to him as they made their way back to the car.

Making their way to the motel across the road, John began checking them in as Sam and Dean waited off to the side. Once again, eyes were upon Sam. He heard the clerk ask John about Sam – how old he was, how long they'd be in town, etc. John just answered casually, not noting anything strange about the inquiry.

But Sam noticed. Something very strange was going on in this town. And he had a very bad feeling about it.