ARC 2: Seven – PART ONE: Not Always What it Seems

They had left Minnesota around noon and the place Bobby was calling them to was right outside Lincoln, Nebraska—close to seven hours away. Most of their day would be spent on the road, and there wouldn't be enough time to start hunting once they got there. Sometimes their job required night work—most of the time actually—but general investigation was always better in the light of day.

They had passed the halfway mark awhile ago and were finally stopping for gas and food in Thornton, IA. It was closer to their usual spec on the map town, only about 400 people. Dean had to admit, he would take a town like Thornton over big cities any day. The more open road the better.

Dean was gassing up the car while Sam stocked up on food for the road. They didn't want to take the time to sit and eat anywhere, even if that meant gas station food and sludge for coffee. Sasha's whereabouts, however, had Dean worried. The trip so far had been harmless enough. Sasha hadn't so much as winked at Dean since his little whisperings when they first left. Again, it almost made Dean think he imagined that Sasha was being so forward with him. He figured that was probably exactly the kind of false sense of security Sasha was trying to instill in him.

But that wasn't why Dean was worrying over the guy. He liked Sasha. Couldn't stop even if he was freaked out by the whole incubus thing half the time. Because the other half of the time things were so good, so easy, Dean felt like he finally had a friend in life other than his brother. No, what Dean was worried about was that Sasha had disappeared around the back of the gas station as soon as they arrived so he could phone his aunt. Dean couldn't imagine their discussion would be anything good. The guy had to tell his aunt he had just helped kill her sister. Sasha said she probably already knew since he had sent the succubus' body home, but the fact that his aunt hadn't called him had to be bad.

Once Sam returned to the car with provisions, Dean parked around the side of the building so they could wait for Sasha to come back. They waited fifteen minutes before they started getting twitchy.

"Dean?"

"Gotta check on him?"

"It's probably a good idea."

Dean agreed. He turned off the car, opened his driver's side door, and pocketed his keys. "Come on."

They hadn't even turned the corner to the back of the building when they started to pick up on Sasha's conversation. It was a lot louder and more heated than a private conversation should ever have to be.

Sasha didn't see them join him behind the gas station. He was half facing the brick building wall and half facing away from them. His body language was as telling as his tone—shoulders tight, free hand clenched, the quick shuffling pace of his feet. This was bad.

"No, I'm not!" Sasha was practically yelling, "Because it's not the same! You know it isn't!" He paused, listening for a few moments, but his feet kept a steady pace. When he spoke again his voice was a few decibels lower, but not by much. "Yes. Yes, they're good guys, and you can sleep a little easier knowing I'm not out here alone. But that doesn't mean I don't—" He cut off abruptly, and made a sharp turn to the wall that gave them a view of his profile. Sasha's face was almost as red as his hair, and there was a smudge on his cheek as if he had brushed away a stray tear.

Seeing that Sasha had more of a chance of noticing them, Dean grabbed Sam by the arm and pulled his brother back around the corner so they could listen in less visibly.

Sasha's voice filtered over to them, surprisingly softer now so that they had to strain to hear it. "Shi…if there had been any other way…" he trailed, said a few words they couldn't hear and then, "But I just…I can't accept it. It isn't fair." His voice took a sudden sharp turn then, "Because I'm out here trying to help people. Giving something of myself to the people who need it. That's what we do!"

A tug on Dean's sleeve made him glance up at Sam, whose puppy eyes were already in force, so concerned for Sasha's sake that he was actually looking to Dean for reassurance. Dean just shrugged and shook his head. He didn't know what the conversation was about, but it wasn't good, that was clear. His attention on Sam made him miss whatever Sasha said after those last few words, but finally he heard Sasha somewhat angrily say his goodbyes and then there was the sharp click of a cell phone flipping closed too fast.

There was silence, hard and tense. Dean risked peering around the corner and felt Sam beside him peer as well, having a better vantage with his extra inches in height.

Sasha was still facing the wall, giving them a perfect profile. He held his cell phone tight in his left hand, but his right was pulled into a fist. They couldn't see it at first, but when he reeled back and suddenly punched it hard into the brick wall, it was pretty hard to miss.

Dean cringed. That had to hurt, but by the look of the aftermath, the blow did more damage to the wall. Really, that shouldn't be surprising, since whatever surge of anger had made Sasha react that way had also brought out a few aspects of the beast. Sasha's right hand was now that of his incubus self, black and taloned. Dean saw a snarl on Sasha's face as well that showed the hint of fangs. And when Sasha suddenly turned, as if he sensed finally that he was being watched, red eyes met the figures of the brothers.

They didn't try to hide that they were there. Dean started first, stepping out around the corner, and Sam followed. Dean knew how to deal with this. First of all, he couldn't show fear, even if he felt it. He had learned that long ago with Sam.

"You keep being this sloppy and someone's gonna cry incubus," Dean said, tossing a grin and walking up to Sasha with all the confidence he could muster.

In the blink of an eye those incubus features were gone, morphed away into Sasha's human guise. He gave Dean a guilty smile and said, "Yeah…I swear I'm not usually so stupid." Sasha turned and grimaced at the dents in the bricks.

"You okay?" Sam asked. It was his usual opener. Dean swore he heard that phrase from his brother more than any other. "I'm guessing your aunt didn't take the news too well."

Sasha shook his head. "No, she understood. The elders told her about the body right away, so…she already knew. She's…disappointed, I guess. In Sabine, not me. But she's not angry."

They were missing something here, Dean thought, had to be. It was Sam who pressed for more. "Then…if the argument wasn't about her reaction to the hunt…" Sam said, trailing for Sasha to fill in the blanks.

Blue eyes looked up, a little too bright-looking, Dean thought, like maybe Sasha was trying too hard to make them look real since he felt ashamed for losing his cool. "The elders…know it was me," Sasha tried, and his voice gave a little crack that made Dean feel uncomfortable with this on a whole new level. He had seen Sasha close to tears, seen him hysterical and near death, but honest crying would be a little more than Dean could handle from the friend that always seemed so happy. "I don't know what I thought they'd do, how I thought they'd react. I knew they wouldn't retaliate by coming after us, they wouldn't do that, they know Sabine had to be stopped. But now…to them…I'm an just incubus who killed his own kind. That's all they care about. I've hunted all these years, but I've…I've never killed my own. Never came across a rouge one before."

Whatever Sasha wasn't saying yet, whatever the punch line was, it was bad. Sam's arm seemed to move of its own accord, lifting to place a soothing hand on Sasha's arm and squeeze. That 'I'm here for you' gesture that Dean could never quite get the hang of. Dean wanted to do something too, but he couldn't think of anything that wouldn't seem completely stupid.

"They…they told my aunt to tell me…" Sasha started again, and he clenched his eyes for a moment to stay his tears. One streamed down anyway. "I…I can't go home," he finished finally, "I'm not allowed to go back. Ever. They won't let me go home…"

Sam's arm gave another instinctive squeeze and another tear streamed down Sasha's face. He was managing pretty nobly to keep from crying outright, so Dean wasn't about to grudge him the few tears he couldn't stop.

Dean didn't think he really knew what it was like to have a home. Not really. He was a lifelong transient. It was all he ever knew. But although Sasha lived their same life, he also lived another one. He was an incubus too, and he had family. Even if he rarely got the chance to go home, he could if he needed to. But now he never could again.

It was silly, but Dean likened what Sasha must be going through to never being able to drive the Impala again, bickering back and forth in it with Sam. To Dean the Impala was as close to home as he might ever have. He doubted he could live if it was taken away from him forever.

"They…banished you just like that?" Sam was saying, "But they understand it needed to be done? That's not right. You did what they couldn't, so they punish you? And you didn't even do it, I mean…I struck the blow. Maybe, maybe you can tell them—"

"That won't matter to them. It was my hunt. My responsibility," Sasha said, wiping at the wetness on his cheeks and taking a breath that finally seemed to banish his tears completely, "It's all the same to them. They'd probably say I should have…caught her and brought her home for rehabilitation. Heh. Right. You can't change hundreds of years of psychological progression. She didn't give us a choice."

"No. She didn't." Dean said, and he said it with more finality than Sasha had, because he figured Sasha needed a little convincing of that truth himself just now. Blue eyes met Dean's then, and they were so wet they sparkled. "She would have killed that girl. In the fight, might have killed any one of us. It was our hunt and we did what we had to. They wanna think differently, let 'em. You can be sure you'll never get kicked to the curb by us. You'd be more likely to run away after putting up with us for a while longer."

A laugh left Sasha before he could help himself, and Dean felt accomplished. He managed this stuff with Sam all the time. He could manage with Sasha too. No, everything was not okay, but it could be for awhile if you got each other to laugh and forget about it. If that was all Dean managed with Sasha, at least it was better than nothing.

A few more wipes at Sasha's eyes and a few deep breaths later, they were back in the Impala, chatting and passing the time as Sam handed out various gas station garbage trying to pass as food. Sasha's smile was like the one Dean remembered after their kiss in the alleyway—impressive, but not real. That was okay though, because Dean knew that eventually Sasha would pull himself together and the smile would be real again. Somehow, the incubus always managed to do that, just like Dean did, and just like Sam did too.

Maybe one day they wouldn't have to pull themselves together so often, faking smiles along the way, but that day was not today.

Dean didn't see it happening in the too near future either.

"So, what do we know from Bobby again?" Dean started in, happy to steer the conversation towards the hunt, since if anything else it worked well to keep their minds distracted. "Demonic signs, right?"

"Yeah, cut and dry ones too," Sam nodded, unscrewing the cap to his Mountain Dew for that warning hiss as the pressure released. Cans were not allowed in Dean's car. Too likely to spill. "Bobby said the areas around Lincoln are swarming with cicadas, especially this one spot just outside the city. Figures we should start there."

Dean thought about that. Cicadas were glorified flies, if anything, but he certainly wouldn't want to be in a swarm of them. "That's all he's got?" Dean pressed.

Sam gave a slight shrug. "Better than nothing. After all those black clouds seen over so many cities, you'd think we would have heard something by now. So much for a war."

"Unless they're biding their time," Dean said miserably. That would be just like demons. Big show, crazy fear instilled in all, and then they just sit back and wait for the people who know they're out there to freak out and mess up. Hell, they would hardly need to do a thing to cause chaos if more people knew what those black clouds really meant.

"That. Or…" Sasha's voice came softly from the back seat, but he didn't finish. Dean could see him laying his head back on the headrest, thinking hard. It more than piqued his curiosity.

"Or…what?" Dean said.

Blue eyes looked up and met Dean's in the rearview mirror. "I don't know. Seems like if there was a plan to all this, they'd be following it. With Sam out of the picture for them…maybe they don't know what to do with themselves so they're just…acting on their own. Individually, you know. It would explain a lot. Except our friends the cicadas," he added.

"What do you mean?" Dean almost didn't want to ask. Sasha's tone spoke of all kinds of bad news.

"A swarm big enough to be noticed like that…has to mean more than one demon in the area, if you ask me."

The car went silent for a moment. That made a lot of sense, actually, and yeah, it was definitely bad news. One demon, Dean didn't doubt they could handle easily. Maybe even two or three. But if it was more than that…

"I'm sure Bobby's thinking the same thing. That's why he called you guys," Sasha said, "Not just coz he thinks you deserve to be in on the hunt you started, but because he knows he can't handle it alone. Bobby's smart that way," Sasha added, smiling a little, "Never thinks so big of himself to assume he can handle things all on his own. Makes me feel a little guilty for turning him down so many times."

As it turned out, Sasha knew Bobby. Certainly not as well as the Winchesters, but he knew him. Sam had mentioned to Bobby they were working with a hunter named Sasha Kelly, and Bobby's exclamation of amazement had come through the phone loud enough to be heard by everyone in the car. He knew Sasha, and he knew that Sasha was the last hunter who would ever work as part of a team. Sam didn't have much time to think of what to say to that, so he basically told Bobby the truth. A hunt had come up that Sasha couldn't handle alone and the Winchesters had seemed safe candidates for temporary partners. Temporary went up a notch after realizing they worked so well together, and now Sasha was right there in the back seat. Bobby didn't question it, but he sounded pretty pleased Sasha would be joining them.

Apparently, Bobby often offered to help him on cases or called to ask for help from Sasha in return. Sasha always refused.

Dean and Sam had already known that Bobby knew Deklin Kelly. That's where their father had learned all of Deklin Kelly's stories. Bobby wouldn't have been much older than Dean back then, so Deklin was a sort of hunter role model. Sasha sought Bobby out when he started hunting for himself, wanting to learn any tricks he could from people who had known his dad. But Sasha was always careful. He never worked with any of those hunters for real. He couldn't take the risk to really trust any of them.

This had brought up a few concerns, of course, but Sasha assured Sam and Dean that if they trusted Bobby enough to work with him so many times, he could too. As long as a certain little truth about Sasha's heritage remained secret. Bobby didn't know Sasha was an incubus, but Dean had said quite plainly that as long as Bobby didn't ask point blank, "Is Sasha an incubus?" he wouldn't say anything, and Sam agreed.

"Hey, Sasha, we should probably go over some demon details before we get to Nebraska," Sam said, looking back at Sasha between the seats, "Not that I doubt you know your stuff, just...how much experience do you have with demons? Dean and I have only encountered a few but that was plenty to know how prepared you have to be before facing them."

Dean was sure to keep his eyes on the road, but that didn't mean he didn't also have an eye on Sasha. He watched the incubus' face for a reaction to Sam's questions, and there was a definite flicker of concern. "I've never faced the real thing," Sasha admitted, "But I know my lore. Iron, devil's traps, possession, exorcizing. Demons can't be killed, but sending them back to Hell is good enough for me. Unless you believe that legend about the Colt." Sasha added with a laugh.

Darting his eyes to the side, Dean met gazes with his brother, but neither said anything. A second later Dean looked back up into the rearview mirror and saw Sasha's blue eyes staring at them.

"No way…" Sasha was saying, "You mean it's real?"

The cat was out of the bag now. Dean shrugged and said, "Out of bullets. But the last one found a nice cozy home in the asshole who started this mess."

Sasha had begun perching on the edge of his seat but now he fell back against the padding behind him with a thud. "Wow, you guys really are something else. I can't believe you have the Colt."

"Bobby has it," Sam corrected, "He's been trying to see how it ticks, maybe figure out a way to get it to work again with different bullets. So far no luck."

"But it's still an advantage just having it," Sasha said, "Imagine being able to kill the bastards instead of just sending them to Hell so they can rally up and come again. We might actually start making some headway."

There was a loud sigh from Sam, and Dean knew immediately what the problem was. If winning this war came down to who had what weapon or power then as far as Sam was concerned, they were screwed. "The Colt isn't a for sure thing any more than my powers are. Right now our hunting has to be about intelligence and skill. Don't get me wrong," Sam said, turning around again to look at Sasha fully, "You understand your abilities, so use them. I'm sure they'll come in handy. But I don't know mine yet so I'm not planning on using them before I can work on them. And the same goes for the Colt. We can't count it as an asset until we know how it works and whether or not it will be of any help. Otherwise we'll get cocky and sloppy, and that'll only get us killed. And this war is something I don't plan on losing."

Dean caught himself clutching the steering wheel a little too tight, and had to take a breath to get his head back on straight again. Sam always sounded smart and always tried to think of logical ways to deal with things, but lately he had been sounding a little methodical too. Dean knew it mostly had to do with Sam's determination to save him from his deal. But whatever was different about Sam lately, even if it wasn't much, it was different enough to make Dean wonder about what the yellow-eyed demon had told him the night the Devil's Gate opened.

What makes you so sure that what you brought back is one-hundred percent pure Sam?

It was a stupid thing to think about, Dean told himself. Sam was talking about not using his powers yet, not getting ahead of themselves over the Colt, and about thinking things through before they faced a swarm of demons. All smart stuff. All stuff Dean agreed with. So then why did Dean feel so anxious?

As visions and memories of Dean's long ago dream came flooding forward, Dean firmly decided to declare war on his subconscious and swore never to dream again. He didn't want to remember the feel of Sam's hands holding him down like that, or the feeling of anything else in that dream for that matter. Sasha's eyes may really be red, but Sam's were not yellow, and damn it, they never would be.

"You know I wonder sometimes," Sasha was saying, and he was smiling despite being somewhat talked down to by Sam a moment ago, "Are you sure Dean's the older brother, coz Sam, you are clearly the sensible one." That smile snaked up into a smirk, and all of the tension in the car seeped out again.

Whenever Dean though he might forget why he liked Sasha so much, the guy always managed to remind him.

"I can tell you one thing," Sasha said then, turning serious again, "As far as demons go, you shouldn't have to worry about me. Lore says that because my kind has some demon characteristics, we can't be possessed and we can't be swayed by demon powers."

"Lore tells you?" Dean said, stressing the word 'lore' since he knew for himself that it wasn't always foolproof.

That same flicker of worry blinked across Sasha's face. "Most of my kind stays as far away from demons as they can. So…to be honest…"

"You're not sure if any of that is true," Dean finished.

Sasha gave a slight laugh but there was worry in that too. "I'm…almost sure."

Well that made Dean feel much better. "Great," he said, but really he knew he shouldn't be worrying about things like. Sasha didn't have any more chance of being possessed or swayed by a demon than him or Sam. Hopefully, lore was right this time and Sasha had significantly less of a chance, but Dean wasn't about to put faith in anything he didn't know for certain. No matter what it was.

They reached the motel Bobby had told them to meet him at after dark. It was nearing eight o'clock, and a day in the car had them all feeling a little stiff. They hadn't had anything close to a real meal all day, so the plan was to get settled in and then have Bobby fill them in on anything he hadn't told them yet over a late dinner. Dean thought that sounded just fine.

"You grown since the last time I saw you, boy?" Bobby said, smiling as he pulled Sasha in for a hug. It was the first time Dean had ever seen Sasha act a little reluctant over physical touch.

"I doubt it, Bobby," Sasha said, and he was smiling too. The smile wasn't false, but it was definitely nervous. Dean almost wanted to laugh at the sight of it. Demons and monsters and the like could get nervous over Bobby Singer, but not fellow hunters, even if the hunter also kind of fell under the category of monster.

"Can't believe you got yourself messed up with these two," Bobby said, smacking Sasha good-naturedly on the back as he released him, "But I suppose if there are any hunters out there like your old man, these boys would be it."

Now that seemed to catch Sasha's attention and he forgot for a moment that he wasn't entirely comfortable around Bobby. "Really?" Sasha said, with the amazement of a five-year-old in his voice as he said that. Then he looked over at Sam and Dean and regained his usual smirk. "You saying my Dad was a sharp-shooting smartass?" he said.

Sam just smiled of course. Dean gave his 'haha, very funny' look. But Bobby let out a good laugh and smacked Sasha on the back again. "That exactly. Where'd ya think you got it from?"

And there, finally, broke in Sasha's full and real smile with nothing to mar it.

Dean didn't understand how Sasha could be afraid of Bobby, if that was even the right word for it. Bobby was like that cool uncle who listened to your problems and bought you a beer when you needed one. He was the furthest thing from a backstabber like that other friend of Deklin Kelly's had been. Sasha just needed to learn to widen his trust circle a little, and Dean liked to think that he and his brother had something to do with making that easier on the guy.

They found out that Bobby had already gotten some rooms held for them, but the boys were going to have to pay for their own rooms themselves. There was only one other room available besides Bobby's so the three would have to share. There were two beds though, and a cot, so no one would be forced to take the floor. Dean didn't mind that, especially since Sasha took it upon himself to claim the cot.

Dean and Sasha were left alone in their room for a few minutes while Bobby and Sam went to the front desk to pay for everything and make sure they had enough keys for both rooms. It was the first time Dean had been alone with Sasha since the other night, but although Dean felt uneasy, that was not the reason.

"Hey, man, I'm real sorry about…you know…the whole banishing you thing," Dean tried to say. He wasn't good at comforting people but he didn't think he could stomach talking about the weather, and it was a sure bet they would be talking about the hunt all night long. "It's bullshit if you ask me. You didn't do anything wrong."

Even if Dean wasn't as good at all that 'there for you' crap like Sam was, his words had the desired effect. "Thanks," Sasha said, smiling, if a little sadly. He was sitting on one of the beds while Dean rummaged for something clean to wear tomorrow so he wouldn't have to do laundry tonight. "And, uhh…I've been meaning to tell you…I'm sorry too."

Dean thought he must have missed something. "Sorry for what?" he said.

Sasha looked up at Dean squarely, meeting his gaze with blue eyes that still seemed a little overly bright. "I'm sorry for last night," he said.

A sudden chill climbed up the back of Dean's neck and he—naturally—shivered. He had been doing his best to forget all about that; why did Sasha have to go and bring it up?

"I was drunk, maybe not as drunk as you, but that's no excuse for it," Sasha went on. He was bent forward, his arms resting on his knees, and as he spoke his eyes moved from Dean's face to stare at the 70's shag carpet of the room. "Forget the kiss. Forget the deal. You say no, you say you're not interested, that should be enough. So…I'm really sorry. I was out of line."

Wow. Okay, Dean was not expecting that. He suddenly felt really stupid for shivering. Sasha was actually admitting defeat and apologizing. "Thanks," Dean said, even though he kind of felt like an ass. He knew he shouldn't. Sasha was right to apologize. After all the crazy he had put Dean through what with the kiss, all the flirting, that damn whispering this morning in the…

Wait.

"Hey, drunk last night or not, what the hell was that in the car earlier then?"

There was Sasha's sad smile again, and Dean had the sense to feel a little weirded out that he had started to understand Sasha's many expressions. "I said I was sorry," Sasha said, "I didn't say I was wrong."

This time Dean did not shiver, but he definitely started to shake. He clenched his right fist tight and had to take several deep breaths to keep from using it. "You really don't let up, do you?" Oh, Dean wanted to be angry. Dean had every right to be angry. But Sasha wasn't wearing any of the expressions that normally made him angry. There was no knowing smirk, no wink. He wasn't even smiling anymore.

"I'm just saying…it's hard for me," Sasha said, softly, like he could almost cry for the second time today, though his eyes didn't look at all wet. "Feeling this from you, and you being so bent on ignoring it…kind of hurts. I get it, I do. It would change more than you think you can deal with. And hell, maybe I am wrong. It's…vaguely possible, right? But really, I promise I'll lay off. I wouldn't want to wreck this. I like being your friend too much to risk messing it up. I've kept myself from having friends almost half my life because I was afraid. Well, I'm not afraid of you, and I don't want to give you any reasons to be afraid of me. Okay?"

Dean's fist slowly unclenched. He didn't know what to say to all that.

The door opened suddenly, giving way to Bobby and Sam in the middle of a conversation. Sasha sat up a little straighter, but he kept his eyes on Dean.

There was a shirt in Dean's left hand that he had been clutching tightly ever since Sasha started talking about last night. He slowly set it down on the bed. It was clean. He could wear it tomorrow. Then Dean looked up, knowing he would find Sasha's eyes boring back at him still, and all he could think to do was smile. So he did, and with a slight nod of his head he and Sasha had an understanding. Dean didn't know if he completely understood that understanding, but it was better than where they had stood with each other a few hours ago. And that, Dean decided, could only be a good thing.

The house looked nice enough. One of those big old houses with a real porch and plenty of yard. It was smack dab in the middle of the highest concentration of cicada activity, and despite looking like a generally well taken care of place, something was definitely off. It was unanimous that the house needed to be checked out.

Dean, Sasha, and Bobby had their guns ready after several knocks turned up no response. Sam pulled his gun as well, but focused his attention on reading for sulfur. They entered the house without much fuss and just like the outside there seemed to be little out of place except for a feeling of unease. One swift kick into a closed door, however, and it was more than just a feeling.

A wave of nausea hit Dean as soon as the door opened. The smell of death was one he knew better than he wished he did. Sasha was right behind him and the others were in the room only seconds later. There was a TV turned on to some old program or movie, and on the couch in front of it sat three corpses. A family. Dean felt like he was going to be sick.

"A demon did this?" Sam asked. It seemed unlikely to Dean too. It just didn't seem like the usual MO for a demon. These people looked like they had just sat down and died while watching TV. "I'm not getting much for sulfur readings," Sam added, moving to the windows in the room where he was more likely to find traces.

"If it was a demon, it couldn't have been here long then," Sasha said, one of the few who didn't seem as bothered by the smell. He walked in front of the couch and peered more closely at the three bodies. "But this…I don't get it. How could a demon just…stop by…and cause something like this."

The four hunters stared at each other from different points in the room. No one had an answer to that.

They looked around the house a bit further, but didn't find much of anything, not even heavier readings of sulfur. Bobby caught a few of the cicadas outside, but doubted they would be of much use by themselves. They needed more to go on then just a handful of dead bodies and signs of demonic activity through insect swarms. They decided to head into the city, drive the outskirts first, and then head in completely, checking for similar signs, if any. It wasn't much to go on, but it's all they had.

They were working out some final details for the day when Bobby's police scanner started picking up something that caught their attention. It was murder for one, but that wasn't the bizarre part.

Bobby turned up the volume, seated in the driver's seat of his car, and the three younger hunters gathered closer around his door. "Say again, Dispatch. Over." There was a crackle as Dispatch responded. "You heard right, Daryl. Assault downtown. Two women. One dead. Apparently over a pair of shoes, if you can believe it. Head over there pronto. Over."

Dean couldn't believe he had heard that right. "Shoes?"

"That…wouldn't have to be demonic," Sam offered, though his tone suggested he wasn't entirely convinced of that.

"Worth checking out at any rate," Bobby said, turning his car on with a sick rumble that made Dean want to poke around under the junker's trunk. Bobby's car wasn't that bad, of course, but it was no Impala. "Meet you boys down there as soon as possible. I'll call and let you know details and an address as soon as I hear it." Bobby didn't waste any time. He made sure he got an acknowledgement from his young partners, and then took off down the road.

A few seconds later, Dean was shifting his baby into DRIVE with Sam beside him and Sasha in the back, heading their way into Lincoln.

tbc...

A/N: Here is the beginning for the Seven Deadly Sins arc. All is planned and you can expect several parts from this. Do not be discouraged, either, because there will be more arcs after this one. Thanks for your support so far and please REVIEW to let me know you're still with me.

Crim