**Hey! I'm so so sorry that this chapter took forever to complete. I've been really busy with everything that's going on, but the next ones should be out faster! Only one more episode till the season 1 finale (which is one of my favorite episodes), and I can't wait to write it! Also, I've posted on my profile links to pictures of what the characters (That I've mentioned so far) should look like cause some reviewers were asking (I just did my OCs I'm assuming everyone who reads this knows what Sam and Dean look like). I'd love to hear what you all think about them! Thank you to everyone who reads this story! You're amazing! Review or PM please! They are really inspiring and motivate me to write faster! Thanks again and hope you enjoy!**

Dead Man's Blood

"All right, guys. Not a decent lead in all of Nebraska," Dean complained, folding the newspaper and setting it down on the table in annoyance. My eyes flicked to him briefly before I lowered my newspaper as well. He wasn't wrong; we'd been searching for days and still nothing.

"I got nothing," I agreed, setting down the paper and looking at Sam expectantly. He was the one with the computer; if anyone was going to find a hunt, it'd be him. "Sam?"

"Well, I've been scanning Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota. Here- a woman in Iowa fell 10,000 feet from an airplane and survived," My look of anticipation melted into more of an 'are you serious' look. If that was the best we could come up with, I may as well get a desk job.

"Sounds more like a miracle than our kind of thing," I pointed out, and Sam shrugged in agreement without looking up from his computer.

"Hey, you know, we could just keep heading east - New York, upstate. Could stop by and see Sarah again. Huh?" Dean tried, and I suppressed a sigh when I saw Sam's face grow sad and reserved. "She's a cool chick, man. Smokin'," I turned my raised eyebrows on him, and his low whistle cut off abruptly. I couldn't really be mad at him, though, for it was obvious he was trying to talk her up to Sammy. "You two seemed pretty friendly. What do you say?"

"Yeah, I don't know. Maybe someday," He smiled slightly, glancing at Dean and then hesitantly at me. "But in the meantime, we got a lot of work to do, guys. And both of you know that," He turned his eyes on me and then Dean.

"Fine, you're right," I conceded, and Dean's resigned sigh confirmed my words.

"What else you got?" He questioned his brother, who seemed more at ease when our conversation reverted back to our next case.

"Uh, man in Colorado - local man by the name of Daniel Elkins was found mauled in his home," I straightened as the familiar name rang a bell in my head.

"Elkins. I know that name," Dean frowned as he tried to remember, and I shut my eyes for a moment.

"Doesn't ring a bell," Sam dismissed. "Sounds like the cops don't know what to think. At first they said it was some sort of bear attack," I grabbed John's journal, only partially listening to what Sam was telling us. I set the leather bound book on the table between Dean and I and flipped through it quickly. "And now they found signs of robbery," Dean stopped my flipping the page and pointed to a name near the top. D. Elkin: 970-555-0150. Dean handed the book to Sam, who looked at it skeptically. "You two think it's the same Elkins?"

"The area code's from Colorado," I pointed out before adding, "Besides, it's not like we have any better leads waiting for us," Sam considered my statement before fishing a twenty out of his pocket and putting it on the table. We got up and let the diner disappear in our rearview mirror as we travelled towards Colorado.

Usually, before a possible hunt, I would get some sort of feeling about it, but this time I was unnaturally quiet and calm, no feeling of trepidation tugging at my gut. I turned my attention out the window as Dean turned up the music, singing along and making me laugh. The trip was surprisingly short, and Sam managed to get the address of D. Elkins, so that was our first stop. Of course, it was night by the time we got there, so Dean had to hold the flashlight as I picked the lock. It wasn't that the two boys couldn't pick locks, but my fingers were more nimble and could spring it in less time. I stood between Sam and Dean as he pushed the creaky door open, and the three of us shined our flashlights inside, illuminating the wooden house. Sam stayed by the door while I followed Dean into the house, taking in the pinned up drawings of horrific creatures with three heads along with an assortment of newspaper clippings.

"Looks like the maid didn't come in today," Dean commented, his beam sweeping around the mess of papers and folders that were strewn across the floor haphazardly.

"Hey, there's salt over here, right inside the door," Sam called to us from where he was crouching in the doorway.

"Elkins was definitely a hunter," I mused, my eyes scanning the room and picking out all the tell tale signs of a hunter's home. I moved to the far side of the room, trying my best to ignore how the wind whistling sounded like a faint beating drum. My hearing shouldn't be acting up; lately, I'd been able to control it much better. There were no more sudden migraines that left me shaking and feeling sick.

"She's right," Dean backed me up in a low tone that made me look at where he was leafing through a book that looked much like John's and go to stand beside him as Sam came up on his other side.

"That looks a hell of a lot like Dad's," Sam realized as Dean turned the page to reveal a strange temple like drawing with symbols surrounding it.

"But look at the date," I pointed to the top of the page. "1964," I frowned as a sudden thought struck me. All of John's pages were different: everything from spirits to ghouls to demons. This guy's book held much of the same information: the symbols looked alike and the clippings had similar headlines. As hard as I tried, I couldn't read the man's writing, so finally, Dean closed the book and we made our way to what I think was the living room.

"Whatever attacked him, looks like there was more than one," Sam stated, and I raised my eyes to study the whole in the two windows. My entire body tensed as I heard a soft crunch that most definitely was not the wind.

"Looks like he put up a hell of a fight too," Dean added, turning from the windows while I strained my hearing to pick up anything. All was silent. Maybe it was a squirrel or something. I shook my head to rid myself of the paranoia and turned my attention back on more important matters.

"Yeah," I agreed, gingerly stepping over the glass shards as I made my way through the clutter. A scarlet red caught my eye, and I crouched down to examine the white letters scratched onto the floor.

"Found something?" Dean crouched beside me, running his hand over the lines in the wood.

"I'm not sure. There are just some scratches," Sam's flashlight beam landed on the scratches, illuminating them better than my failing one had.

"Death throes, maybe?" He suggested, and I considered the idea, but something told me that wasn't it.

"Here," Dean reached behind me to grab a piece of blank paper from the desk and place it over the scratches, and I picked up a pencil from the floor beside me as I caught on to what he was doing. He held the paper in place while I rubbed the pencil lightly over the white sheet, turning it a grey color with white words spelled out. Dean picked up the paper by the corner, peeling it from the bloody ground, and held it up for us to see as we got to our feet.

"It's a message," My mouth twitched into a smile; it was good to be back on a hunt after a whole week of nothing. I took the paper from Dean and turned it to face Sam, so he could read it as well. "Doesn't that look familiar?" I asked rhetorically; we'd done this long enough to know what those numbers meant.

"Two letters - six digits. The location and combination of a post office box," Sam thought aloud. "It's a mail drop," He lowered the paper, his mind jumping to reach the conclusion Dean and I already had.

"That's just the way Dad does it," A deafening silence followed Dean's words as he finally voiced what we'd all been thinking.

"We need to get to the post office," That seemed to break the stillness and suddenly we were hurrying into the car again and on our way to the post office. We found the right box, and Sam and I waited with mixed emotions as Dean put in the combination. It clicked, and Dean pulled open the door, snatching the letter that was nestled inside the small, steel box. He froze as he read the inscription, and my eyes scanned the page, my breath catching.

"J.W. - John Winchester?" Even as I said the words I barely dared to hope that after all this time, we'd finally found him. Really found him. Not like in Chicago where he had to leave again. This time, we'd help him. It didn't matter what he ordered us to do, us helping him wouldn't hurt. Dean looked around apprehensively before we went back to the car, and I sat in the passenger's seat.

"Should we open it?" He asked, and I could hear how much he wanted to in his voice. Suddenly, there was a sharp rapping on the window, and I jumped ten feet and had my gun pulled halfway out of the bag at my feet before I recognized who it was.

"John?" I could barely believe my eyes even as I spoke the man's name.

"Dad?" Dean questioned, his voice thick with emotion and surprise. John didn't answer either of us as he got into the back next to Sam, who was more than willing to slide over. "Dad, what are you doing here?"

"Are you alright?" Sam inquired hurriedly at the same time I asked, "What's going on?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Look, I read the news about Daniel. I got here as fast as I could. I saw you two up at his place," That explained why my hearing had been so heightened.

"Why didn't you come in, Dad?" Sam asked him, and John just gave him a knowing look.

"You know why. Because I had to make sure you weren't followed… by anyone… or anything. Nice job of covering your tracks, by the way," A smile pulled at my lips at the complement.

"Yeah, well, we learned from the best," Dean grinned, and I couldn't help but join in.

"Wait, so who was Daniel Elkins?" I questioned, needing to know who we were looking into.

"He was - he was a good man," John nodded, and the sorrow was written on his drawn face. "He taught me a hell of a lot about hunting,"

"You never mentioned him to us," Sam phrased the comment like a question, and John sighed heavily.

"We had a - we had kind of a falling out. I hadn't seen him in years," He confessed, and despite everything, I felt a twinge of familiarity at his usual story. John had had a falling out with almost every hunter he'd previously worked with. "I should look at that," He nodded to the envelope still in Dean's hands, and his son passed it to him without protest. He unfolded the letter and began reading aloud. "If you're reading this, I'm already dead," His eyes grew dark and his voice fell silent as he scanned the rest of the paper. "That son of a bitch,"

"What happened?" My stomach twisted as I spoke, but I fought down the feeling and focused on John instead.

"He had it the whole time," John's voice held annoyed realization.

"Dad, what?" Sam prompted him, and he raised his head to look at us.

"When you searched the place, did you see a gun, an antique, a colt revolver? Did you see it?" He demanded, sentimentality gone and replaced by the hard voice of the man I grew up with.

"Uh, there was an old case, but it was empty," Dean remembered, and John's jaw tightened at Dean's words.

"They have it," He turned his gaze out the window, and I frowned at his ambiguity.

"So whatever killed Daniel Elkins took the colt revolver?" I checked, not seeing how one gun was so important to him.

"We got to pick up their trail," John ignored our confusion, his mind already three steps ahead as he got out of the car, slamming the door behind him and leaned in the driver's window.

"Wait. You want us to come with you?" Sam sounded as shocked as I felt.

"If Elkins is telling the truth, we've got to find this gun," John spoke in a slightly breathless voice that made me begin to worry.

"John, what's so important about this gun?" I met his gaze unwaveringly as I demanded an answer.

"It's just important. That's it," He responded evasively.

"But why?" I regretted demanding an answer from John as Sammy joined in, his voice growing more annoyed.

"Sam, I said that's it," He repeated, and I could feel the oncoming fight as Sam leaned up from the back to make eye contact with John.

"Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet," He attempted to reason with him and brought up a very good point.

"They were what Daniel Elkins killed best…" John told us in a voice that held trepidation. "Vampires," My mouth dropped open as he spoke that word. I'd thought that I'd seen it all, but that was a new weird.

"Vampires?" Dean echoed in shocks.

"But… vampires are a myth," I protested, and John shook his head.

"You never even mentioned them, Dad," John sighed heavily again and closed his eyes.

"I thought they were extinct," He confessed. "I thought Elkins and others had wiped them out. I was wrong," That was why Elkins book had looked so different from John's. The book was probably specialized in just vampires and vampire patterns. "Most vampire lore is crap. A cross won't repel them. Sunlight won't kill them and neither will a stake to the heart, but the bloodlust - that part's true. They need fresh human blood to survive. They were once people, so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late," John gave us the abridged version of vampire hunting before we headed to a motel room.

Sam fell asleep around one in the morning. We'd already gotten more than a few pinned up on the wall, and we had most lore on vampires categorized into two piles: bullshit and non-bullshit. John thought it'd be best to wait till morning until we figured out what our next play was. I'd taken over Sam's laptop when he'd fallen asleep, and I researched past killings in the area where there was a surprising lack of blood in the victim.

Dean fell asleep on the bed opposite Sam at around two thirty. I hadn't even noticed he had until I'd looked up to find him lying face up with his eyes closed and the papers he'd been looking through resting on his chest. I crossed the room and picked them up gently, slipping them from his hand and placing them on the table before going to the fridge to get a beer for myself and John. I placed it in front of him on the table, and he accepted it gratefully.

"Get anything else?" John glanced up from the articles he'd been sifting through and shook his head.

"Pretty standard. A lot of things could be said about Elkins, but when it came to these bastards…" John trailed off, shaking his head at the memory of his mentor. "He taught me well," He reflected before turning his eyes on me as I sat opposite him. "You're exhausted. You should catch some sleep,"

"I'm alright," I insisted, taking a sip of my beer and trying not to think about how welcoming sleep sounded. When I looked back at John, I saw that he was smiling a bit.

"You were always stubborn. Even when you were a kid," I rolled my eyes in fake annoyance at his memory but couldn't help laughing lightly. "You've grown up," John told me, his eyes turning to his two sons. "You all have," I took another sip of my beer, smiling slightly. "Jimmy would've been proud," My smile faded, and I set the beer down on the table, tracing the label lightly with my finger.

"Yeah," I agreed softly, glancing up at him. "He should be here,"

"He made his choice at that lake," John reminded me gently yet sternly. "Don't let his sacrifice be for nothing," I didn't answer, choosing instead to study the tip of my boots. "They need you," I glanced at John to see him studying Dean and Sam. "You're family,"

"I know," I answered him, sighing. "It's not like I'm planning on leaving anytime soon," My mouth twitched at the idea. I'd just gotten Sam back and Dean and I were dating, and, despite everything else, my life wasn't so bad at all. I found myself gazing at Dean's sleeping form with a smile tugging on my lips.

"He's happy," My lips couldn't resist the smile any longer, and it spread out across my features. "Happier than I've seen him in a long time. You're good for him, you know," Abruptly, the smile turned into a wary expression as I turned to John.

"You're not one to be sentimental," I pointed out, and his face froze for a split second before he turned away. "Why now? John, what's happening that you aren't telling us?"

"I will, alright? I'll tell you everything, I promise, but for right now, you just have to trust me," I bit the inside of my cheek, studying his serious expression. "Melody, do you trust me?"

"Yes, sir," I responded automatically, my childhood coming back to me. The words were true. I did trust John with my life; he was like my second father, but he was starting to worry me.

"Then get some sleep," He nodded to where Dean was passed out. "You'll be no use to anyone if you're falling asleep during the fight," I sighed in defeat and rose wearily, almost falling in the process. I barely had the energy to kick off my shoes before I crawled onto the bed beside Dean, not bothering with the covers. Dean groaned and shifted, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer to him. I rested my head on his chest, and my eyes drifted closed.

-SPN-

"Sam, Dean, Mel, let's go," I heard John's voice dimly and felt him hit my foot lightly to wake me up. Dean's chest vibrated against my cheek as he groaned in annoyance and tiredness. "Picked up a police call," John went on brusquely as Dean shifted beside me, and I reluctantly sat up, knowing without looking in a mirror that my hair was a mess.

"What happened?" Sam questioned, and I glanced at where he was sitting up as well before I rose and slipped on my boots as Dean and Sam blinked at us.

"A couple called 911. They found a body in the street. Cops got there. Everyone was missing. It's the vampires," I don't think I'd ever get used to John saying that, but then again I'd given up on normal a long time ago. My grey jacket was pulled over my shoulders before I followed John towards the door.

"How do you know?" Sam questioned, and John fixed him with confident gaze, holding up a hand to stop any further questions.

"Just follow me, okay?" John was starting to get irritated with Sam, and Sam stalked past me and out the door after him. I just turned to Dean with a resigned look, and Dean chuckled, shaking his head.

"Vampires," He put on his shoes and stood, still chuckling. "It get's funnier every time I hear it," I laughed lightly, my bad mood dissipating as I pecked Dean on the lips before walking out to the short twenty minute car ride that awaited me. John ordered us to stay by the car as he went and talked to the police officers about what had happened. I leaned on Dean's shoulder with his arm resting loosely around my waist as we watched John converse with the cop, flashing his badge at the man.

"I don't see why we couldn't have gone over with him," Sam grumbled sourly as John began heading back to us. I shot Sam an all too familiar look that I hadn't gave him in a while. It was specially reserved for his arguments with John.

"And so it begins," I muttered just loud enough for both boys to here, and Dean let out a small laugh that held little humor.

"What begins?" Sam demanded, and I rolled my eyes at his frown. Instead of answering him, Dean and I turned our attention to John, who walked up to us.

"What do you got?" Dean questioned.

"It was them all right," John confirmed, his face looking grim. "It looks like they're heading west. We have to double back to get around that detour," He studied the blockade of cop cars for a brief second before turning back to us.

"How can you be so sure?" Sam asked, and I resisted the impulse to send him another look. If the first one didn't do anything, there was little chance the second would.

"Sammy, leave it-" I began warningly.

"I just want to know we're going in the right direction," Sam interrupted me, fixing me with a determined look before his eyes flicked back to John.

"We are," Was all the assurance John gave.

"How do you know?" Sam asked, his eyebrows furrowing. John regarded his unwavering son for a moment before taking something out of his pocket and holding it out for us to see.

"I found this," He pinched the object between his thumb and forefinger, and Dean took the tooth like object from him, turning it over in his fingers.

"It's a vampire fang," Dean realized, his eyebrows raising in surprise at the find.

"No fangs - teeth," John corrected him. "The second set descends when they attack," John focused on Sam again, daring him to speak. "Any more questions?" Sam remained sullenly quiet, his eyes on the tooth in Dean's hands. "Let's get out of here. We're losing daylight," He passed us as he headed for his car. "And, Dean, why don't you touch up your car before you get rust?" He called back as I'd just started to open the passenger's seat. "I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were going to ruin it,"

Dean's face closed, masking how much the comment had stung, and I got into the car, slamming the door behind me, unable to look at his wounded face any longer. He got into the driver's seat, shutting the door behind him and turning the ignition as John pulled out of the dirt lot we'd parked in. Gently, I reached out and slipped my fingers through his, giving his hand a small squeeze, and his lips twitched in an attempted smile as he gazed at me. I released his hand as Sam got into the car, and I grabbed a book that I'd found yesterday that had been mostly correct according to John.

"Alright, so vampires usually travel in small packs - 8 to 10 in each, and they send out a couple to bring back food. Victims are brought back to the nest and then kept alive so they can be bled for anywhere from one day to three weeks," I summarized a section of the article, trying to get Dean's mind back on the hunt.

"I wonder if that's what happened to that 911 couple," Dean connected the pieces, and I nodded in agreement.

"That's probably what Dad's thinking," Sam agreed with an edge to his voice that I didn't like. "Of course, it would be nice if he just told us what he thinks,"

"So it is beginning," I tried to lighten the situation slightly while Dean turned his gaze on the rearview to see Sam's face.

"What?" Sam inquired innocently, and I sighed heavily.

"Sam, we've been looking for Dad all year. Now we're not with him for more than a couple hours, and there's static already?" Dean asked pointedly.

"No," Sam scoffed, frowning at both of us. "Look, I'm happy he's okay, all right, and I'm happy that we're all working together," Sam told us.

"Good," Dean responded, refocusing on the road.

"It's just the way he treats us like we're children," Dean let out a groan as Sam began venting. "He barks orders at us like he expects us to follow him without question. He keeps us on some crap need-to-know deal,"

"Sam, he has to have reasons for what he does," I tried reasoning with the kid, but he wouldn't have any of it.

"What reason?" Sam asked skeptically.

"Our job!" Dean snapped at him. "There's no time to argue. There's no margin for error, all right. It's just the way the old man runs things,"

"Yeah, well, maybe that worked when we were kids, but not anymore, all right? Not after everything the three of us have been through, guys. I mean, are you two telling me you're cool with just falling into line and letting him run the whole show,"

"It doesn't matter who's calling the shots as long as the job gets done," I answered, trying to maintain a level head instead of completely loosing my cool. Before Sam could reply, Dean's cell rang, and he flipped it open, pressing it to his ear.

"Dad?" I couldn't help letting my hearing drift to pick up what John was saying.

Dean, I think I've picked up the trail. Pull off at the next exit, okay? Was all John said.

"Yeah, Dad," Dean replied. "Got it," The line went dead, and Dean flipped the phone shut. "We're pulling off the next exit," Dean informed us.

"Why?" Sam questioned, a low tone to his voice.

"'Cause Dad thinks we got the vampires' trail," Dean replied easily, and I could practically feel the tension in the car.

"How?" Sam asked in the same tone as before.

"I don't know. He didn't say," Dean responded, glancing in the rearview to meet Sam's dark eyes.

"Pull over," Sam ordered, and Dean's eyes widened fractionally. "I said pull over now!" Dean glanced at me, and I looked back at Sam questioningly.

"Sam, what the hell are you doing?" He just glared at me, ignoring my protests, and Dean had no choice but to pull the car over. Sam got out of the back and wrenched the driver's door open, practically shoving Dean into my lap.

"The hell?" Dean muttered as Sam floored the accelerator, making us shoot past John's car and then veered in front of it, forcing John to pull over. Sam shoved the door open and stalked out.

"Shit," I swore, quickly getting out of the car as well as I heard Dean swear behind me.

"What the hell was that?" John demanded furiously, slamming the door to his Hummer and facing Sam with a glare.

"We need to talk," Sam snapped as the faced off.

"About what?" John countered, the dark glare still set in his features.

"About everything," Sam answered surely. "Where are we going, Dad? What's the big deal about this gun?" He fired question after question at his father, who remained stoic.

"Sammy, come on. We can Q&A after we kill all the vampires," Dean stepped forward from beside me to attempt to reason with Sam, who didn't even glance at him.

"Your brother's right. We don't have time for this," John told an unyielding Sam.

"Last time we saw you," Sam went on, ignoring everyone's words. "You said it was too dangerous to be together. Now, out of the blue, you need our help. Obviously something big's going down, and we want to know what!" His voice rose in volume with each word that flew from his lips.

"Sam, that's enough," I told him sternly. "Let's just go,"

"No," His eyes flicked to me for a split second before back to his dad. "We need to know,"

"You should listen to her. Get back in the car," John ordered, his voice darkly threatening.

"No," Sam defied, scoffing.

"I said get back in the damn car," John repeated, taking an intimidating step towards his son.

"Yeah, and I said no," Sam rebelled against John, who looked ready to pounce on him.

"All right, you made your point, tough guy," Dean appealed to Sam, and I stepped between them, placing a hand on Sam's chest to push him backwards a step or two.

"We're just tired, alright? You two can finish this later when we're not in the middle of a hunt," I glared up at Sam to find him looking past me at John, still holding a stare down with him.

"Sam!" Dean snapped, finally earning his attention, and Sam let out an annoyed noise that came from the back of his throat before turning to the car.

"This is why I left in the first place," Sam muttered moodily, and my heart sunk into my shoes.

"What did you say?" The words that came from John's mouth were practically a growl now.

"You heard me," Sam whirled to face John again, fury reigniting in his eyes.

"Yeah," John agreed with a sharpness to his voice as he walked towards Sam. "You left. Mel, your brother and me - we needed you. You walked away, Sam. You walked away!" John yelled, grabbing his son's jacket and shaking him to emphasize his point.

"You're the one who said, 'don't come back' dad. You're the one who closed that door, not me. You were just pissed off you couldn't control me anymore!" I reached them with two steps and shoved Sam back with all my might, which caused him to stumble a few steps.

"Shut up!" I had had about enough of this bullshit from both of them. "Stop it! Both of you!" I turned to see Dean was standing in front of his dad, keeping him from Sam just as I was keeping Sam from him. "Just get back in the car, alright? We'll figure this out later," Sam turned his brooding eyes on me, and I just raised my eyebrow. Finally, he relented, reaching for the driver's door with one last hateful glare at John, but I grabbed his wrist. "If you think I'm letting you drive like this, you're crazy," I fished the keys from his coat pocket, and he opened his mouth to complain but one glare from me was enough to silence him and send him stalking to the back of the car before getting in. When I turned, John was already shutting his door and pulling onto the main road. Dean faced me, throwing his arms out to the side in frustration.

"Terrific," I just shut my eyes tiredly before sliding into the driver's seat of the Impala.

-SPN-

Five hours later we were crouching in the undergrowth of the woods, watching an old, seemingly abandoned farm as a man approached it. Another middle-aged man opened the door, regarding him and I could sense the hostility and disappointment rolling off the guy holding the door open. They exchanged a few words before the man was allowed inside the barn, and the door was shut.

"So they're really not afraid of the sun?" Dean spoke up in surprise from beside me, and I glanced up at the overcast sky.

"No, direct sunlight hurts like a nasty sunburn," John informed us. "The only way to kill them is by beheading, and, yeah, they sleep during the day. It doesn't mean they won't wake up," I committed everything John was telling us to my memory for later. A familiar tug in my stomach warned me that it would be important one day.

"So I guess walking right in's not our best option," Dean stated the obvious, making my eyes flick to him and then back at the nest of vampires.

"I think that's the only option," I'd mentally sifted through every version of every plan that John may have, and that was the only one that made any sense given our current position. Dean and Sam turned to stare at me incredulously while John just gave me a proud smile.

"She's right. That's the plan," He conceded before his smile vanished. "But first, we need weapons," He headed back the way we'd come with Dean, Sam, and I following. Dean popped the trunk of the Impala, and I grabbed a machete from the pile of them that we kept. Dean grabbed the extra we had and glanced up at his dad.

"Hey, Dad, I've got an extra machete if you need one," My eyes flicked to John's truck when I heard the mechanical whir, and I saw the array of weapons that were displayed in the hidden compartment that had just opened.

"Think I'm okay. Thanks," John replied, unsheathing the two foot long blade.

"Wow," Dean murmured more to himself than to anyone else. I couldn't help but agree with him. I'd seen a lot of things, but John's truck was pretty cool.

"So… you three really want to know about this colt?" John brought the subject up, and I felt Sam stiffen beside me as I looked up to see John studying us.

"Yes, sir," Sam replied, trying to mask his eagerness.

"It's just a story… a legend, really," He began, and Dean moved to the truck as we listened. "Well, I thought it was. Never really believed it until I read Daniel's letter. Back in 1835, when Halley's comet was overhead, the same night those men died at the Alamo, they say Samuel Colt made a gun… a special gun. He made it for a hunter - a man like us, only on horseback. The story goes, he made thirteen bullets. This hunter used the gun half a dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. Somehow, Daniel got his hands on it. They say - they say this gun can kill anything," I opened my mouth and then closed it in stunned shock.

"What do you mean 'kill anything'?" I repeated his words numbly.

"Like supernatural anything?" Dean questioned disbelievingly. It was impossible; no gun could kill anything.

"Like the demon," Sam realized, but I couldn't tear my eyes from John's determined ones.

"Yeah, the demon," He agreed, nodding. "Ever since I picked up its trail, I've been looking for a way to destroy that thing, find the gun… We may have it," There was a long moment of silence that seemed to stretch out for eternity as the three of us digested that information. I grabbed the top of the trunk and slammed it down, shouldering the sheathed machete.

"Then let's go get it," I stated confidently, ignoring my twisting stomach and pounding heart. John's lips twitched in a rare semblance of a smile as he nodded assent. I led the boys back to the barn, and this time we didn't crouch in the undergrowth, but walked right up to it as stealthily as we could. John pulled open the window at the side of the house and went through first with Sam following and me and Dean behind him. Dean shut the window behind us, blocking the sunlight.

My eyes swept around the room, taking in the swinging hammocks full of sleeping vampires before I jumped off the hay bails and crept after John, Sam and Dean following. Every time a hammock creaked, it sounded like a galloping horse, and I would tense, thinking someone had woken. I jumped badly when I felt cool skin wrap around my fingers, and I turned to see Dean giving me a cocky smirk as he intertwined our fingers. The contact worked to calm me, and I stopped flinching, getting my hearing under control. I ducked under a hammock that was tied to the wooden beam, and Dean tried to do the same but accidentally hit it. I froze, my eyes flying to the man's sleeping face as he twitched but thankfully didn't wake. I shot Dean a look, feeling his hand relax in mine as the danger passed.

"Dean. Mel," My head raised as I heard Sam hiss my name, and Dean and I made our way over to wear he was crouching beside a tied up woman. I quickly knelt behind her, my hand slipping from Dean's as I got to work on the ropes that were badly chaffing her wrists; cutting the ropes might make too much noise. Suddenly, there was a clatter to our right, making us all tense up, our eyes straining against the dark.

"There's more," Dean whispered, straightening and tightening his hold on the machete he grasped in his right hand. Slowly and with carefully measured steps he moved away from us and towards the sound. There was a sharp clank, and my eyes shot to Dean's to see he was frozen by the locked door that presumably held the other prisoners. I stretched my hearing to see if any of the vampires woke up; none of them had. I nodded to Dean, who nodded back before we both returned to our tasks. The woman I was untying let out a quiet moan, shifting her head a bit.

"Hey," Sam hissed to her softly. "Hey, hey, shh. We're here to help," I frowned; something was off about her. Of their own accord, my hands abandoned the ropes and flew to the woman's mouth. I felt a sharp pain shoot up my palm and couldn't stifle the instinct to yank my hand away from her. She shrieked an inhuman, guttural language, and the entire nest was up in a matter of moments. I heard a loud crash and then another, and Sam yanked me to my feet, pushing me behind him as we backed away from the screaming girl.

"Run!" I heard John's yell from the room over. We didn't have to be told twice. We got the hell out of there, running out the door with a hoard of at least fifteen vampires on our tail. We made it to the car before we whirled around, waiting for John to come out of the trees.

"Dad?" Dean called, but no one emerged. "Dad!" There was a moment of absolute silence, and I took a small step towards the trees, wanting to go back to get him. Just then, he appeared, jogging up to us before slowing, panting slightly.

"They won't follow," He spoke as Sam, Dean, and I turned back to the car quickly. "They'll wait till tonight. Once a vampire has your scent, it's for life…" He informed us before trailing off, his eyes dropping to my hand. "You're bleeding," In all the confusion, I hadn't even noticed that the woman had bit me. John was in front of me in one stride, grabbing my wrist in a painfully tight grip, worry and fear battling in his eyes.

"The woman bit me. It's nothing," I furrowed my brow in confusion; John had never cared about scratches or cuts. I'd learned how to apply first aid at an early age, and if Sam, Dean or I ever got cut or stabbed, I knew how to handle it.

"Did you get any of her blood in the cut or in your mouth?" John demanded with an intensity that frightened me.

"What?" I asked dumbly; the question seeming ridiculous.

"Dad, what the hell is going on?" Dean questioned, and I could see the worry on his face as well.

"Answer me! Did you get any of her blood in your mouth?" He repeated the question, ignoring our growing confusion and fear.

"No! No, I didn't. I barely touched her except for covering her mouth," I finally got out the answer, but John was still inspecting my hand closely. He grabbed my face in one of his hands as gently as he could, turning it to one side before the other.

"Are you sure?" He checked, and I ripped my face out of his hand.

"Of course, I'm sure," I snapped, fear making my voice harsher than usual. "Why?"

"Dad, is something wrong? What does it mean if she did?" John tore his gaze from my hand to his son's apprehensive eyes.

"That's how they change you," The news made my legs turn to jelly, but I managed to stay standing up. I could've been turned into a vampire. I was seconds away from becoming exactly like that tied up girl.

"What the hell do we do now?" Dean broke the heavy silence, throwing his arms out to the side in annoyance, and I agreed with him, trying to focus on the problems at hand.

"You got to find the nearest funeral home, that's what," He instructed, looking specifically at Dean and me. We exchanged a surprised glance before looking back at John. "We need a jar of blood from a dead man," Dean and I just stared at him uncomprehendingly. "It won't kill 'em, but it works as a sedative. Sam, you're riding with me. We'll meet back at the hotel room," John's tone left no room for arguing, and he walked around to the driver's seat, getting in while Sam glanced at his dad with mixed emotions before sliding into the passenger's seat of his truck.

"You have to talk to him," I spoke in a low tone to John so as not to be overheard by Sam.

"Excuse me?" John asked me, and I faced him fully now.

"Talk to your son. You two have to make up at some point," John sighed heavily, annoyed but resigned.

"I only want what's best for him, Melody," I smiled slightly at John's confession.

"Try telling him that once in a while," Without waiting for a response, I got into the car and closed the door behind me. Dean revved the engine and headed in the opposite direction from John and Sam. While he drove, I opened the glove compartment to reveal the first aid kit I'd insisted on keeping there. I ran the alcohol wipe over it, biting my lip to keep in the hiss of pain that was begging to come out; this hurt more than a regular cut did. I glanced sideways at Dean as the car slowed, and he pulled over to the side of the road. Neither of us spoke as he took my hand gently in his, running the alcohol wipe over it repeatedly.

"That bitch really got you," He commented, realizing how deep the cut really was.

"I was being stupid," I reflected, shaking my head. "I shouldn't have tried to muffle her," Dean set down the bloody wipe and started bandaging the bite. "I almost became a vampire," As much as I tried, I couldn't cover the fear in my voice.

"It wouldn't have been that bad," My eyes flicked to Dean in shock at his words.

"How can you say that? I was almost turned into a monster," My eyes were wide as I thought of all that could have happened. "I could've been turned into a killer," If I'm not already. I added the words silently in my head as I remembered Sam's vision of Max killing Dean.

"No, we would've found a way to change you back," My lips pulled into a small smile at his confident tone that conflicted with his ludicrous words.

"Dean, you know as well as I do that there's no cure for being a vampire," Dean just grinned cockily, making my smile widen.

"We would've found a way," He shrugged nonchalantly at the idea as if it was no big deal. "We always do," He tied the bandage, and I gazed into his eyes before blinking and reminding myself that we were on a case. "Right, dead man's blood," Dean got back on the road. "Any idea where the nearest funeral home is?"

"I think I saw one on the way to the hotel. Keep going east," I directed, not quite able to get the persistent smile off my face as he drove with my hand in his. When we arrived at Miller's Funeral Home, it was around four in the afternoon, and the place was dismal looking even in the bright sunlight. Dean parked around the corner just in case, and we walked the rest of the way to the home.

"Ready?" Dean questioned, smirking at me.

"I was born ready," I replied, kissing him softly before getting out of the car and ascending the steps to the front door. We'd created this plan when we were kids, and Dean lost his money trying to hustle pool. We'd had to steal from a candy shop and had come up with the idea. I walked into the funeral home and tried to look as innocent as possible as I reached the front desk, clutching my purse tightly.

"Hello, um…" I read the name tag of the older woman that worked the desk. Why there was even a desk was beyond me. "Emily. My grandfather just, well…" I swallowed hard, and she patted my arm comfortingly.

"It'll be okay, hun. What was his name?" She questioned, and I heard the door open behind me but didn't turn.

"Jack," I picked a common name off the top of my head. "I'm Elizabeth Martins," Dean came up next to me, leaning on the desk and distracting the woman from

"Excuse me, ma'am," He began, forcing her to look up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm with somebody," The woman dismissed him, and I frowned at Dean as he glanced at me before looking back to the woman.

"Please, this is important. It'll only… it'll only…" The lady's beady eyes focused on him again as a strange look passed over his face. He let out a strangled choke before dropping to his knees, convulsing.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" My eyes widened in horror, fixing on the woman who had come out from behind the desk. "Do something!" I shrieked, taking a few steps back. "What's wrong with him? Help! Help us! We need help!" Four men and one woman came running out the door to kneel beside Dean, who had started to make a series of ragged gagging noises. I slipped inside while they were all focused on Dean's flawless acting skills. The first and second door gave me no luck, and it was only when I got to the third door did I find the bottles of red liquid. I grabbed the bottle and placed it in the paper bag I'd brought, and then I shoved it back into my purse before exiting quickly, finding myself in the hallway.

"Hey, you!" My head snapped up, and I tried not to look too much like a deer caught in the headlights. "You're not supposed to be back here," I took a step back, my eyes catching the glowing red exit sign at the back of the hall; it would only take me thirty steps to make it. "Stop!" I turned and bolted, taking the stairs two at a time and jumping the last three to hit the ground running. Luckily, the Impala's window was rolled down, so I could easily stow my purse in the car before sprinting back to the sidewalk in front of the funeral home, acting like I'd been deciding which way I should go. I didn't have long to think, for I was grabbed from behind by a man in a white coat. One man I could take no problem, but four more morticians came out, grabbing my arms and restraining my movement.

"Hey! Let her go," Then Dean was there, fury in his molten emerald eyes as he glared at the men holding me. "It was just a harmless prank. We're students of the community college. Our friend, Sam, dared us to do it," For a fleeting second, I thought the men would take the bait until one of them scoffed.

"I say we hold them until the police get here," The other men nodded in agreement with his statement, and I met Dean's eyes. "Sorry, pal," He sarcastically apologized to Dean.

"I'm sorry too," Dean told him before punching him right in the nose. The man released me and reeled back, clutching his nose and swearing like a sailor. I slammed my newly freed elbow across the other man's face, making him let go as well. Then we were sprinting down the sidewalk with only two of the men from before chasing us. We already had a seizable lead that was only growing when Dean yanked me into a dark alley. We stood in the shadows, my back against the wall while Dean leaned his elbow next to my head and his other hand by my waist. The men ran past us without even bothering to glance into the alley, and I had to press my fingers against my lips to stifle the laugh that bubbled in my throat at the tired, sweating older men who had been chasing us.

I turned my face to look up at Dean, hearing both our hearts pounding with adrenaline and realizing our faces were inches apart. His eyes dropped from my eyes to my lips before covering them with his. The hand that had been stifling my laugh snaked around his neck, pressing him closer to me as the kiss grew heated. He wrapped his arm around my waist tightly as we both began breathing unevenly. He slid his cool fingers up my shirt; they brushed against the bare skin of my back. He grabbed the back of my thighs, propping me up against the wall as I wrapped my legs around his waist. I don't know how long we stayed like that, just making out in a dark alley like we were in high school again, but time slipped away from me and all there was was him and his lips against mine.

"Dean," I whispered against his lips, my hands sliding down to his shoulders, trying to find the willpower to restrain him. "Dean," My voice was stronger now.

"Hmm," He moved to my neck, and I let out a moan, my eyes fluttering shut before I snapped them back open.

"We have to go," I breathed out, attempting to get myself under control. Apparently, I'd said the right thing, for Dean released my legs.

"Shit," He swore softly, his forehead still pressed against mine. There was no point backing away from him; it was all I could do to control my desire to kiss him. "Okay," He stepped back, quickly rounding the corner and disappearing from view. After a moment, I followed him. We made it to the car, avoiding the police cars that were parked in front of the funeral home, and Dean pulled out of the parking space.

"Did you get it?" He questioned, breaking the comfortable silence that had descended on us.

"Of course I got it," I told him, gesturing to the purse that was at my feet. "Nice job distracting, by the way," I shot him a grin in time to see his smirk.

"Yeah, in another life I could've been Charlie Chaplin," I laughed at his joke as we sped towards the motel twenty miles faster than the speed limit.

"You know, one day you're going to get a ticket," I informed him matter-of-factly. It was something of a running joke between us. I always told him he would get pulled over; he never did.

"I'll let you know when that day comes," He laughed his reply, switching on the radio to play Hot Blooded by Foreigner. We finished the ride in a comfortable silence and got out, walking into the motel room. One glance at Sam and John told me that John had taken my advice and talked to the kid about their college fight. Even now, almost five years later, the thought of that night still gave me shivers.

"Whoo!" Dean faced John and Sam with a grin on his face as I set my bag down on the table between them. "Man, there's some heavy security to protect a bunch of dead guys," I pressed my lips together and fixed my eyes on the purse I was unzipping to keep myself from laughing.

"Did you get it?" John asked seriously, and I transitioned into hunter mode, glancing up at him.

"We did," I took the paper bag out of the purse and slowly took the bag off, handing the bottle to John. He fingered it for a brief second, smiling before looking back at the three of us.

"You know what to do,"

-SPN-

I crouched in between John and Sam with a blowgun in my hands, watching Dean pop the front hood of the Impala and pretend to fix it. It was the middle of the night, and the vampires would almost undoubtedly come to capture Dean and bleed him, which is where the blowgun came in. I would shoot arrows coated with dead man's blood at the vamps.

"Car trouble?" A woman's voice asked from behind Dean. I trained my gun on her but waited for the signal from John to fire; there could be more. "Let me give you a lift…take you back to my place," She offered, approaching him, and I fought down the all too familiar tightening of my stomach.

"I'll pass. I have a girlfriend," The woman's lips drew into a pout before she backhanded Dean across the face. I drew a breath to blow but felt John's hand on my shoulder, forcing me to just observe while Dean groaned and used the car as support to remain standing. His hand slid off the car, and he dropped to the ground before the vampire gripped his jaw tightly, lifting him clean off the ground. I tensed, taking another breath, and John's hand tightened.

"I don't normally get this friendly until the second date," For half a second, Dean's eyes flicked to the woods where I was concealed before back to the woman threatening him.

"You know, we could have some fun," She lowered Dean as she spoke seductively, and I clenched my teeth in disgust. "I always like to make new friends,"She brought Dean's lips towards hers, and then gasped, releasing Dean as her body went rigid. "Damn it," She swore as she looked down at the arrow jutting out from her chest. The other vamp behind her hissed in pain as my second arrow hit him. Sam, John, and I came into view while she glared. "Barely even stings," She boasted arrogantly as I offered Dean a hand up.

"Give it time, sweetheart. That arrow's soaked in dead man's blood," The smile dissipated from her lips as reality dawned on her. "It's like poison to you, isn't it?" Her eyes rolled back in her head, and I stepped sideways out of the way, causing her to hit the ground with a thud. All of the boys looked at me, and I shrugged innocently. "Load her up," John told Dean, who tossed her limp body over his shoulder unceremoniously. "I'll take care of this one," I followed Dean as he made his way to John's truck and threw the vamp into the back. Sam went back to the Impala to put his blade away, and Dean turned to me.

"You were jealous," I scoffed, rolling my eyes at his words as well as at his smirk.

"Of what?" I challenged him, raising an eyebrow. "The vampire who was kicking your ass?"

"She was not kicking my ass," Dean denied. "I was buying you time," Our banter was interrupted by a sickening thwack, and then a thud. John had finished with the second vampire. He wiped off his blade as he put it away and then got into his car.

"Follow me," He ordered, and Dean and I went to the Impala, following John until we came to a quiet spot in the woods and got out, having no idea where we were. "Saffron, skunks, cabbage, and trillium - it'll block our scent and hers until we're ready," John explained, lighting fires around where we were parked.

"It smells terrible," I commented, wrinkling my nose in disgust as the fires began emanating a pungent odor.

"Well, that's the idea," John pointed out. "Dust your clothes with the ashes, and you'll stand a better chance of not being detected," I made mental notes of what John was saying to refer to later.

"You sure they'll come after her?" Sam questioned skeptically.

"Yeah, vampires mate for life. She means more to the leader than the gun," He looked to where Dean was tying her up in a chair. "But the blood sickness is going to wear off soon, so you don't have a lot of time," My head snapped up as he used 'you'.

"Half hour aught to do it," Sam agreed, glancing at his watch.

"And then I want you out of the area as fast as you can," I frowned, opening my mouth to protest, but Dean beat me to it.

"But, you can't take care of them all yourself," His voice held an undertone of pain at the thought of John pushing us away again, and our hands found each other.

"I'll have her and the colt," John spoke with conviction, looking clam.

"Well, after we have to rendezvous, right?" I prayed that I was right, even though I knew that wasn't what John had in mind. "We have to use the gun together. We're all involved," He didn't reply, but just regarded me.

"You're leaving again, aren't you?" Sam asked, his voice laced with anger. "You still want to go after that demon alone?" John's silence confirmed Sam's questions. "You know, I don't get you,"

"Sam-" I put the back of my hand against his arm lightly, warning him to stop.

"No, Mel," He turned back to his dad. "You can't treat us like this,"

"Like what?" John challenged him.

"Like children," Sam spit the word out like it was poison.

"You are my children. All of you," He looked at each of us in turn as he spoke. "I'm trying to keep you safe,"

"Dad, all due respect, but that's a bunch of crap," My eyes widened and turned up to latch onto Dean's determined expression. John turned to his eldest son with a look of shock written on his features.

"Excuse me?" His tone was low and threatening, and my eyes flicked between Dean and John uneasily as neither backed down.

"You know what Sammy, Mels, and I have been hunting. Hell, you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself," Dean reminded him, his hand tightening around mine as he laughed humorlessly. "You can't be that worried about keeping us safe,"

"It's not the same thing, Dean," John told him, a haunted look in his eyes.

"How is it not the same?" I shot back. "Why are you so eager to keep us from the fight?"

"This demon…" John looked away from us as he spoke. "It's a bad son of a bitch. I can't make the same moves if I'm worried about keeping you alive,"

"You mean, you can't be as reckless," Dean corrected bitterly.

"Look… I don't expect to make it out of this fight in one piece," My hand tightened in Dean's as the truth of his words reverberated around in my head. "Your mother's death…" He focused on Dean as he spoke. "It almost killed me. I can't watch my children die too. I won't,"

"What happens if you die," Dean asked, and I felt tears pricking behind my eyes as John remained mute. "Dad, what happens if you die and we could have done something about it? You know, I've been thinking. I think maybe Sammy and Mel are right about this one. I think we should do this together. We're stronger as a family, Dad. We just are. You know it,"

"We're running out of time," John spoke evenly. "You do your job, and you get out of the area," I glared at him, hating what he was saying to us. "That's an order," He left no room for arguments as he shouldered past Sam and got into his truck. I sighed and got into the back of the Impala while Sam and Dean slid into the front seats, still brooding from the fight. The car ride to the barn was silent, and as John had predicted, it was almost entirely deserted. We entered through the same window as before, and I closed my eyes to find out who else was in the makeshift house.

"There's one vampire," I told them, opening my eyes, and Dean nodded for us to go on ahead.

"I'll take care of him," We went on towards the people who were in the locked room. I picked the lock easily, and the door swung open. The people who were still healthy enough to stand hurried out while the rest lay there faintly moaning. I heard a thwack from behind me of Dean cutting off the vamps head. I closed my eyes and stretched my hearing to encompass the road where John was trading the leader for the colt.

"Kate, you okay?" I heard the man's voice called, and a feeling of foreboding twisted my gut.

"Sam, I think John's in trouble," I didn't wait for his response before sprinting back to the window and climbing out with Sam and Dean on my heels. I raced towards where I'd picked up the leader's voice. There was a crash from up ahead, and we burst through the trees and into sight. One of the vamps came at me only to be shot in the chest with a poison dart. I heard Sam grunt heavily as he landed on his back with the lead vamp above him. Someone grabbed me from behind, and I went limp, throwing us both to the ground before I hacked his head off. Not that it mattered, two more replaced him and restrained me, causing me to drop the machete only to have Dean snatch it up.

"Don't!" The leader tightened his deadlock, and I stopped struggling against the two men. "I'll break both their necks," Dean swallowed hard, his eyes darting from me to Sam. "Put the blade down," Dean's knuckles were white against the silver of the knife as his grip tightened. The man holding my right arm wrapped his arm around my throat, making me gag, and I heard Sammy do the same.

"All right!" Dean snapped, releasing the blade with his right hand and holding it away from him before throwing it on the floor slowly. That's when I heard the ever so light crunch of glass behind us. John.

"You people. Why can't you just leave us alone?" The leader snarled. "We have as much right to live as you do,"

"I don't think so," John's voice entered the conversation, and the man whirled around to see John holding the gun aimed at his forehead. He fired. When the bullet hit, the vamps dropped me, and I wasted no time in scrambling over to Dean and Sam, who pulled me to them. The vampire stood for a moment as if an invisible string was attached to his head, holding him up. A blinding light emanated from him, illuminating his skeleton for a second before it vanished, and he dropped to his knees. Another pulse of light, and his body trembled before collapsing in on itself.

"Luther!" Despite everything that was happening, Luther's mate's heartbroken scream made me turn into Dean's chest, curling my fists in his jacket as I felt her agony and fury. I couldn't watch her loose the only love of her life. It didn't matter how many people they killed, I couldn't watch her loose her soulmate. There was a resonating boom that seemed to me to be louder than if someone had shouted in my ear. The devastated woman breathed heavily, her loathing eyes snapping up to meet John's.

"Kate, no!" Another woman grabbed her as she made to lunge, pulling her into the car and driving away.

-SPN-

"Hey," I glanced up to see John with his hands shoved into his pockets, watching us from the doorway. We stopped packing and turned to face him as he approached us.

"Yes, sir?" I answered, holding my chin up.

"You ignored a direct order back there," He informed us, and I nodded, knowing this had been coming.

"Yes, sir," Sam replied for the three of us.

"Yeah, but we saved your ass," My eyes shifted to Dean before quickly returning to John to gauge his reaction.

"You're right," He relented, and my eyes widened fractionally.

"I am?" Dean's voice betrayed the surprise he felt.

"It scares the hell out of me. The three of you are all I've got, but I guess we are stronger as a family," I blinked at him, not believing what I was hearing. "So… we go after this damn thing… together,"

"Yes, sir," The three of us answered in unison, but as much as I tried, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were signing my own death warrants.