A/N: Thanks for the wonderful reviews!

CHAPTER 1

A cockroach skidded across the floor of the motel. Sam Winchester did little more than glimpse at it before turning his gaze back to the heavy volume he had been nose-deep in for the last quarter of an hour. He lay, stomach down, on the unmade motel bed. His fingers flipped briskly through the yellowed pages of an old fashioned book. Occasionally he would glance away from his reading to check his wristwatch.

Where's Dean? Sam wondered as he glanced at the empty made bed beside his. But he didn't even need to think long for an answer to that question. Probably with some girl, Sam concluded. He shook his head in disbelief. Jeez if the guy thought half as much with his upstairs brain as he did with his downstairs one than he would be a freakin genius. Hitting on girls in bars, taking them back to either his place or theirs had become something of a tradition for his older brother Dean Winchester. After they finished a hunt, Dean would make his mission to zero in on the nearest available young woman he could find. Unlike his brother, Sam proffered to spend his spare time either reading or researching. Usually his reading would be something enjoyable, these days however his bed time reads consisted of titles such as 'deals and devils'.

Sam sighed. Frustrated, he slammed the book he had been reading shut and then reached for one of the other heavy volumes on the bed side table. Ever since Dean had made that deal with the crossroads demon Sam had been uses every free moment he had trying to find a way out of it. But so far he had had no luck. Going against what most of the texts had stated and he had decided kill the crossroads demon in attempt. But again, life was not simple; it had not worked. Well at least someone finally wasted the sordid cow, Sam thought angrily. Without even opening the new book he tossed it aside. It fell to the floor uselessly. Sam sighed. Dean's due date was getting closer and closer and Sam's mood was getting tenser and tenser.

Despairingly, Sam reached for his laptop. He was getting no where, and fast, with the books and decided it was about time he tried using modern day technology to help him find a way out of a devil's deal.

Sam's ears twitched when he heard the key in the front door. Dean's home, Sam thought tiredly. Looks like he wasn't planning on pulling an all-nighter after all. Despite his brother's arrival, Sam did not turn around.

Much to Sam's annoyance, Dean leaned over his younger brother to get a closer look at the website he was on. Sam restrained himself from snapping at him. He didn't want to take his bothered mood out on Dean.

"Demons, Demons, Demons," Dean read aloud, mockingly. "Wow! They sure put a lot of thought into that title."

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's a demon database, what would you have called it?" He glanced away from the screen to look at his older brother.

Dean thought for a moment. "I don't know. How about…demon database?" he suggested, shrugging sheepishly.

"Oh I see big improvement." Grinning broadly, Sam returned back to the screen. He saved the page into his favorites, and then closed the box. If there was anything wroth checking out there he would look over it tomorrow because right now it was about time he caught up on some much needed sleep. He had not been sleeping much lately. He had put his mild case of insomnia down to numerous things; the two main one's being Dean's deal and the new big bad Lilith. Sam fought back the urge to yawn. I should check my emails before I turn in, Sam decided. He hadn't checked his emails for months now. Two years ago, when he had first hit the road with Dean, he had kept checking in with his friends from college on a daily basis. Even though their emails would consist of little more than a hello and the usual, it had still given Sam a sense of normality that he had always been looking for. Dean, on the other hand, was a loner and seemed to enjoy it that way. He personally didn't blame his older brother for not getting close with anyone, because the last friend Sam remembered having told the truth to had undeniably freaked out.

"I know what I would have called it now," Dean announced loudly from across the room. He had moved away Sam and had now begun pulling off his biker boots. "Demons 'R' Us. What do you think about the creativity in that title, huh?" "Sam?"

But Sam wasn't exactly listening to Dean, nor did he respond. His eyes were wide. The first email he had just opened had caused his jaw to drop.

"Sammy?" Dean snapped his fingers in Sam's face. Sam did little more than blink.

Sam blinked several times. "I'm sorry," he said, glancing up at Dean. "Did you say something?"

"It was nothing of great importance," Dean replied briskly. He glanced at Sam worryingly. "What's up?"

"It's this…this email from a friend of mine, Jack; he used to attend the same college as me back in California. Sam shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, reading. It just all felt like some kind of incredibly vivid yet horrifying nightmare. No, it was not a dream. A rolled down the side of his face and eventually stained his cheek. Hastily, Sam wiped it away with his bare arm. Sam kept moving his head from one side to the next at a gradual pace. "I can't believe this."

"What does it say?" Dean snapped. He wasn't really angry, but concerned. He made a decisive effort not to look at Sam for more than one second at a time. His younger brother's pained and vexed expression seemed to either cause Dean discomfort, cause him distress, or both.

Sam shook his head for one last time, and then slammed the laptop shut. He briskly stood up, and didn't glance at his brother once. "Pack your things."

"Where're we headed?" Dean raised an eyebrow. Despite been given an order by his younger brother, he had already began throwing a few of his scrunched up shirts into one of the large canvas bags.

Sam did not even need to think of the answer for a few moments, he knew the answer immediately. "Palo Alto," he replied, forbiddingly. He swiftly snatched up the pile of books he had been reading over an hour ago. All of the anxiety he had been feeling about Dean's deal had seemed to be put on hold. Right now they had a new problem. Sam wasn't even sure this problem was necessarily their kind of usual problem. But supernatural or not these were Sam's friends and he wanted to help even if it meant going back to the place he swore he would never set foot in again, then so be it.

A crunching sound in the nearby distance caused Sam to snap out of his train of thought. He immediately turned in the direction he had heard the noise come from, and in an ironic and not so uncanny twist, the direction he had just turned in was Dean's.

"Yuck," Dean muttered, irritably. Sam's eyes trailed from Dean's startled and grossed out expression to his hand. His right hand was held high and away from his body. He clasped what looked unerringly like a half-squished cockroach. The dead insect dangled lifelessly from Dean's grasp. "I just stepped on a frigging cockroach."

Sam wrinkled his nose. Perhaps I should have killed that cockroach when I had the chance, he thought mockingly. The corners of his mouth twitched. Ah well he'll live.

The world would soon be little more than a prison made up of bone, flesh, and fear.

The world was so close yet still it was not firmly secured in his grasp. He wanted it. He wanted to control it, and manipulate it how he pleased. He wished to crush humans, and those other creatures that were so little and inferior in his eyes. Humans; he laughed at the very thought of them. Humans were such pitiful creatures; so consumed with their own emotions and phobias. They were so young, so inexperienced and believed the world was only there for there the simple things that came them either pleasure or punishment. Soon he would show them punishment. Oh yes, that day was so near. He could practically taste their blood and terror now.

The common demon were little better. Each demon was the same; dominant, self-consumed, and irrational. Each demon has claimed that they are the most powerful, the wisest, and the most skilled but when put to an actual test they all seemed to suffocate. The other creatures, the ones that were not even worth mentioning, were just as pathetic.

Even though he had never concealed his intense dislike for the human he still found them to be a useful tool at times. Through the millennia he had learned that one could manipulate a human's mind more easily than one could crush an insect. A human, no matter their background, age or supposed knowledge, were all the same and therefore he would use them.

Already he could sense the beginning of the change. His plan was running so flawlessly, and he had done nothing not even lift a finger—if he were to have a caporal body of his own that was. Much to his delight it had been a human that had sought him out and pleaded and begged with him for a new world. Well, that human would get its wish. The world was going to change, and for the better in his opinion. The blood would continue to pour, it would not cease—not for a several centuries at least.

Even though his plan was running smoothly now, he knew that it was only a matter of time before hunters would turn up. If they did he would see to it that they were ended immediately. Even if they didn't, when the new world was complete he would crush them like the cockroaches they were anyway.