The first signs of twilight were breaking over the forest. A girl, with an angel's blade in her hand, stepped out of her truck, facing the warehouse. She was supposed to have gone on this demon hunt with the others, but her truck had broken down, of all things. And she doubted the hunters would have waited for her anyways; they only saw her as a sixteen-year-old girl, and not as a hunter who had been dealing with the supernatural ever since she was a small child. But when the hunters hadn't checked in like they were supposed to, she decided to go and check on them. And what she saw when she opened the warehouse door almost made her regret coming.

The place was a battlefield. Human and demon blood stained the walls and the windows. Angel blades were scattered across the floor, and some still in the demons, the blood on them still wet and fresh. It had been a massacre, and it appeared that neither human or demon got out alive. The girl shivered slightly. She could've been lying on the floor among them if she had just been on time.

She reached down to a hunter in front of her, a middle-aged man, feeling for a heartbeat she knew wasn't there. She closed her eyes in a moment of silence for the fallen, just for a second, and then stood. She knew for a fact that this man had a son, only a little younger than herself. A son that would have to live without a father.

She was going to have to give these people a hunter's funeral, which was a little too much for her to handle. She reached into her pocket for her phone when she noticed the frayed ropes on the floor. She bent down, feeling the ropes in her free hand, when suddenly a loud bang echoed through the warehouse. She immediately raised her blade, ready to fend off an attack, but stopped when she realized the banging was coming from the back door of the warehouse, which was open and slamming because of the wind.

She realized that someone, maybe a hunter, or a demon, had escaped, and either way, she had to find them. She was out the back door with her angel blade raised, following the footprints on the forest floor.

At first she didn't see anything but darkness, but then in the dim light, with the sun just peaking over the horizon, she saw a body leaned against a tree. It was a man in his early thirties, but he was impossibly skinny and pale as death. He was unnaturally still.

The girl leaned in closer to check for breathing. Suddenly the man gasped in a deep breath and the girl jumped backward in surprise. "Oh God you're still alive," she said, still a little shaken. The man looked at her with wild eyes but a dazed expression. One his hands immediately came to shield his face, as if she was going to hurt him. "Don't worry, I'm not a demon. I'm not going to hurt you." She pulled a flask of holy water out of her back pocket and splashed a little bit on her face. "See? Here. Your turn."

She held the water out to him. He grabbed it out of her hand and took a big gulp. She should've guessed that he would've been thirsty. He didn't look like he'd had enough to drink in a long time. She noticed blood staining the man's shoulder. "Let me look at that."

The man still flinched a little, but he didn't move to protect himself. She examined the wound on his shoulder, and suddenly noticed the scars crisscrossing his chest. She gave him a look of sympathy and mumbled, "What kind of hell have you been through?"

Upon expecting the wound, she found it was a graze wound, but still pretty serious. Between the scars and the wound, and the possibility of hypothermia, she knew that she had no other choice. "We have to get you to a hospital."

The man's eyes, which had been on the verge of closing, shot open. "No. No hospitals. They're…not safe." He spoke between pants, as if every breath hurt.

"But…I don't know how to treat this. I'm not a doctor."

"My brother…can help. Lebanon, Kansas. The bunker. Safe."

The girl was reluctant to go—this man really needed a hospital. But if this really was a safe place, then she couldn't deny him the chance to see his family. God knew how long he'd been gone. And she knew how it felt to miss loved ones.

"Okay. We'll go to Kansas. My car is not too far away from here. Can you walk?"

The man nodded weakly and started to stand. No sooner had he gotten on his feet than when he started to fall. She grabbed his good arm and helped him back up. "One step at a time, okay?"

The man used her shoulders as a brace. She was almost a foot shorter than him and she almost buckled under his weight. He stumbled forward and she was there to keep him upright. "This way." She pointed him in the direction of the warehouse and her car.

"My name is Tara, by the way," she said as they slowly progressed towards her car. "What's yours?"

"Sam."

"Nice to meet you Sam. So this, uh, bunker of yours, are you sure it's safe?"

This got a small chuckle from Sam. "Safest place on earth."

"Must be some place. In Lebanon? Not exactly the place I would've guessed as the 'safest on earth'."

"You'd be surprised."

"I really should take you to a hospital, you know. You don't exactly look like a picture of perfect health." At the look that was given her, she quickly added, "Don't worry. I'm taking you to Kansas. I was just wondering why you were so intent on going there. You have a lot of faith in my medical abilities."

"I have faith in my brother."

"Fair enough. Are you sure he's going to be there, though?"

"Yes." It was the first thing he'd said that was strong and sure, without the tremble that had accompanied his voice.

They arrived at the car. Sam slumped in the front seat while Tara went to the back of the truck to get the first aid kit. She suddenly remembered the hunters in the warehouse. She pulled out her phone and dialed. "Garth? Hey. I found those hunters. It's not pretty. No one got out alive. But listen, can you send other hunters to clean this up? I found this guy, and he's hurt badly. I'm getting him some help and I can't stop to clean up this mess."

"Sure thing," came the reply from the other end of the line, and that was it. A lot of hunters still didn't know that Garth was a werewolf, and even though she had found out she promised to keep it under wraps.

She hung up, pulled out the first aid kit and a blanket, and went over to Sam in the passenger seat. He was breathing heavily and shivering violently. She took a bandage and some antiseptic out of the kit and started cleaning the wound in his arm. When he winced, she muttered a slight apology and started wrapping the bandage around his upper arm. She eyed her handiwork warily. It wasn't as good as a professional doctor would have done it but under the circumstances it would have to do. Seeing Sam still shivering, she handed him the blanket.

"Th-thanks," Sam stuttered out, giving her a small, grateful smile. She was about to go to the driver's side when Sam called out, "Wait."

"What is it?"

"You n-need a k-key to get in to the bunker."

"Where would that be?"

He raised a shaky arm and pointed at the warehouse. She paled slightly and gave an exasperated sigh as she walked towards the warehouse. She'd give anything not to look at the horror show inside but it seemed that she had no other choice. As soon as she walked in, she spotted it right away. If it had been a normal key it would have been harder to find, but instead it was an old-fashioned large metal key, and a demon had been clutching it tightly to its chest. Prying it from the demon's cold, dead fingers, she shivered. She'd seen too much death today.

She made it back to the truck to find Sam's eyes closed. After checking for a pulse and finding it strong, she walked to the driver's side and started the car. Tara pulled the truck out of the driveway and turned onto the road, driving away from the warehouse and into the rising sun.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNS

Dean packed his bag in the motel room. Jody had been right- the vampire hunt had been a piece of cake. Just a couple head shots and the whole thing was over. But instead of making him feel better, it made him feel worse. Sure, it took his mind off of his problems for a little while, but all it took was a glance at the empty seat in the Impala or the extra bed in the motel room and he was back to feeling empty inside. Cas was being possessed by Lucifer. Sam was missing. Dean suddenly seemed to realize just how alone he was.

He glanced at the clock-2:00 AM. If he left now, he could be back to the bunker before sunrise. But there was nothing waiting for him there- no family, no home. There was nothing to go back to. He looked at the clock again, and stopped packing. The bar next door would be open for another couple of hours, and that was more than enough time for him to drink away his problems.

At least the headache he would have in the morning would take his mind off of things.