Chapter 2

Sam move around the tree line near the lake. He was beginning to get puzzled by the case. Dean was right, vampires usually attacked in the middle of nowhere and they needed somewhere to house their nest. These vampires weren't following any of the usual patterns. Sam was lost in thought when something knocked him to the ground. He tried to get up only to have something dig its knee into the small of his back.

"Dean!" Sam yelled out, but he wasn't sure if Dean would be able to hear him. He couldn't reach his machete from where it had fallen and every time he tried to throw it off him, he was slammed back to the ground. It put one hand on the back of his head, keeping him pinned and used the other hand to pull down the collar of his shirt, exposing his neck. Sam cried out in pain when the thing dug its teeth into his skin and began to drink his blood.

--------------------

Dean had finished searching his side of the lake and had found nothing. He was beginning to think they weren't dealing with vampires or that the nest had moved on. He made his way back to where he and Sam had split up when he heard an agonizing yell. "Sam!" Dean shouted as he ran towards the sound.

He moved around a group of trees and saw Sam lying on his stomach. Sam rolled over and Dean helped him up. "You alright, Sam?"

"I think so," he said. He put his hand over the wound and blood began seeping between his fingers. "Damn thing bit me."

"Alright, let's get out of here before the things comes back with its friends."

They moved quickly towards the car and got in, driving away. Sam pulled a couple of gauze pads from the first aid kit and held them over his wound. He grabbed the laptop out of the backseat and searched for a hotel. After a few moments he said, "Nearest hotel is someplace called the Country Motel a few streets over."

Dean pulled into the parking lot and practically ran into the office. He asked for a room and handed over one of the newest credit cards he had. As he was signing in guest book, a name caught his eye. He looked closer, making sure he wasn't seeing things, and his eyes widened. "Oh, shit!" he whispered under his breath.

Dean practically shoved Sam into their motel room. On the right was a small kitchenette and behind that was a couch and TV. On the left side were the two beds and the bathroom. Dean walked Sam over to the bathroom and sat him on the toilet, wondering if he should tell him what he had just found out. He decided Sam had had enough excitement for the night and began cleaning his wound out. When he was done he washed his hands and said, "Dude, you're going to have one hell of a hickey in the morning."

Sam smiled weakly as he left the bathroom and threw himself down on his bed, falling asleep almost instantly. Dean tossed and turned for a while, worrying about what he was going to tell Sam in the morning. He didn't know how he was going to tell him, but he knew Sam had to get out of town as soon as possible. He figured he could at least let Sam get some rest, but in the morning he was going. Dean was still worrying when fatigue overtook him and dragged him to a restless slumber.

--------------------

Sam woke up the next morning when he heard Dean coming through the door. He slowly sat up and grabbed his neck as the dull, numbing pain kicked in. Dean tossed him a bottle, "Take a few of these."

As Sam swallowed the pills Dean sat on the other bed facing him. Dean pulled out his gun, slid the clip out, tapped it again the handle of the gun, then slid it back in.

Sam asked, "What's wrong?"

Dean looked surprised, then realized he had tipped his hand by giving in to a nervous habit. He cleared his throat, "We may have a small problem."

"What?"

"When I was signing in yesterday I recognized one of the names in the book."

"Whose?"

"Victor Hendrickson."

"What? Dean, why didn't you say something? We have to get out of here, now!"

Sam stood up and started throwing things into his duffel bag. "Wait a minute, Sam. I'm going to stay."

"We can't, Dean. We can always send someone we know to finish the hunt."

"I didn't say 'we'."

Sam froze and looked at his brother quizzically. "What are you talking about?"

"Sam, by the time another hunter gets here, more people will be dead. Now, I'm not asking you to stay, I actually want you out of here. But I'm going to finish the hunt."

"I'm not leaving you here by yourself. Besides, if Hendrickson catches you…"

"He'll what? Throw me in jail for the rest of my life? Which is a grand total of, what, four more months now?"

Sam started fidgeting and clenching his teeth at the mention of Dean's deal. Dean said, "We don't even know if Hendrickson just happens to be here or if he tracked us."

"That's right, we don't know and we should get out of here. I mean, he could be looking for us right now and if he asks around enough he's going to find us."

"Tell you what; let's find out if he's looking for us. If he is, we'll leave right away, but if he's not we'll stick around. Okay?"

"How do you suggest we find that out?"

Dean smiled cockily and said, "I found out his room number."

Sam's jaw dropped. "You want to break into the hotel room of a federal agent? Have you lost it?"

"You don't have to come," Dean said, leaving the room. Sam cursed under his breath, but followed Dean out the door, wanting to make sure he didn't get himself arrested.

They made their way down to Hendrickson's room and Sam asked, "How do we know he's not in there?"

Dean paused. Then he knocked on the door and said, "Housekeeping."

They didn't hear anything from the inside, so Dean picked the lock and slowly eased the door open. The room looked almost exactly like theirs except there was only one bed in it. The boys walked in and heard the shower turn on.

Sam grabbed Dean's arm and started moving towards the door, but Dean wouldn't move. Sam gave him a look, which he ignored and made his way to the bed which had Hendrickson's things spread out on it. There were a pile of papers on the bed. Dean handed half to Sam and started sifting through them. He stopped when he came to a letter. He nudged Sam and they both read it.

The letter said, "Victor Hendrickson, we regret to inform you of the passing of your mother, Olive Hendrickson…"

Dean and Sam left the room, closing the door softly. Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder and said, "See, Sammy? Nothing to worry about."

Sam stilled looked slightly worried, but said nothing as they got into the car and drove to a diner. They sat down at a table and as they waited for a waitress, Dean asked, "Would you recognize this vampire if you saw it again?"

"No, it came up behind me and forced me down. I didn't see it at all."

"And you let something sneak up behind you?" Dean asked mockingly as the waitress came over.

They ordered and Sam got up to use the bathroom. He was standing at the urinal when the door opened and he heard a familiar voice say, "Just order me coffee."

Sam rushed into one of the stalls and closed it just as Hendrickson came into the bathroom. He went into the stall right next to Sam, who thought he could just wait it out when the agent asked, "Hey, buddy, I'm all out of TP over here. Hand me some, will you?"

Sam silently handed him the toilet paper. There was silence and Sam relaxed a little, then his phone rang. He widened his eyes as he pulled it out of his pocket and saw that Dean was calling him. Hendrickson asked, "Aren't you going to get that?"

Sam pressed the talk button shakily and tried to disguise his voice as he said, "Hello?" and waited to see if Hendrickson would recognize him.