A/N: Holy crap! It's been like a flobbity jillion years since I updated. My muse seems to have returned, at least for the moment. I think my writing muse and my art muse were locked in mortal combat. I recently had to do 12 paintings in one night for a class. My art muse got some exercise that night. I think my writing muse didn't feel like being shown up so it decided to return to me! Oh and speaking of classes, I'm totally in college now! Woohoo, go Emerson! It's a good thing my muse did return considering that I'm a creative writing major. I'd be totally fucked. The new season of Supernatural could also have something to do with it. Dean is hot as ever this season, though I do miss the leather jacket appearing in every episode. No one else here likes Supernatural. It sucks. And one of my roommates can't stand blood, so I can't watch any of my crime shows. Supernatural was the one thing I wouldn't budge on, though. I pretty much told her to get the fuck out of the room during Supernatural. So I kick both my roommates out every week. Sometimes I watch it by myself, whilst texting one of my friends. Sometimes, my best friend (and recently her roommate, whom she got addicted to the show) comes over from Tufts and we watch together. I have a pretty nice setup with my TV. My only present I asked for, for my 18th birthday. 32 inch HD TV, I swear I had a mini stroke when I laid eyes on it. Soooo, assuming you have actually bothered to read this ridiculously long note, I won't keep you waiting anymore. On with the story!

Something Unexpected Chapter 6

Previously: Sam blinked. And blinked again. He turned to Dean.

"This really is just an old warehouse."

Dean ignored him and continued walking. After proceeding about 8 ft…he disappeared.

Sam blinked. He turned to John.

"Dad, where's Dean?"

John ignored him and continued walking. After proceeding about 8 ft…he disappeared as well.

Sam rubbed his eyes. They were becoming irritated from all this blinking.

Sam threw caution to the wind and walked on. After proceeding about 8 ft, he felt a strange sensation, like walking through a wall made of jello.

Have you ever been to the Arab Market? Well, the sight that met Sam's eyes reminded him of the street markets he'd seen in the movies and read about in his World Religions class. Well, all that plus a petting zoo.

That was the closest Sam could come to describing what he was seeing. He looked down and noticed that the floor was no longer one of cracked cement, but was more like sawdust or wood shavings. That's it! He was in a giant, demonic, Arab-Market-esque hamster cage. He realized he was grasping at straws, trying to rationalize (or not) what was happening so he didn't feel quite so lost. He lifted his eyes from the floor.

He was clearly no longer in any warehouse, of that he was certain. In fact, they didn't even seem to be indoors anymore. He looked up, seeing that not only was there no ceiling, there was no anything. It wasn't really dark, but it wasn't light either. It ended abruptly and went on and up forever at the same time. The sight of it was making him dizzy.

In an attempt to examine neither ceiling, nor floor, Sam was forced to look at what he had been trying to avoid scrutinizing—the actual contents of the 'room' they were standing in.

It really was a market place. The 'walls' (he couldn't actually tell if there were walls, as they were not visible. It could have been the same as the 'ceiling') on both sides of the narrow space were flanked with kiosks and tiny little shops, what they were selling was something Sam wasn't ready to try and figure out. It seemed like the market went on forever, even though Sam had a feeling it didn't.

The place was swarming with people. No, Sam thought, not people—demons. There were what must have been hundreds of possessed men and women walking around and Sam was sure he caught glimpses of a few children as well. But it wasn't just possessed people; clouds of black would occasionally float into his field of vision. Sam knew they must be demons without hosts, but he didn't understand how they could be here. They shouldn't be able to exist here without hosts—

"This is a gathering place for them, Sammy. Sort of a middle ground between Hell and the rest of the world. If they want to leave, they find an unoccupied host."

I guess it's not that surprising that he knows what I'm thinking. He does have crazy big brother senses, and who wouldn't be thinking the same thing? I'll just go with it. "And how do they do that?"

"They're like taxis, Sammy!" Dean beamed, "Once one passenger vacates, another takes its place."

Well that was one of the most disturbing analogies I've ever heard. "Dean, just how do you kn—"

Sam cut himself off, taking notice of a commotion at the third shop on the right. Hmmm…it seemed that they even haggled here like at street markets. A burly young man (obviously possessed) was arguing with the shopkeeper, who Sam knew, though it was wearing the body of an old man, was just as spry as the man in front of him.

"You really do expect me to just give this to you for free, don't you?"

"I'm offering you some Galena. What else do you want?!"

"…knife will do."

"My kni—fuck no!"

"No knife, no deal."

"Fuckin' A, old man! It's just a fuckin' Munachi (1)!"

"And that's just a fucking knife, and if you're still trying to deal at this point, you obviously need it…"

"Fuck you!"

"Neeever gonna happen without the knife."

"Ugh, I hate you! Fine!"

"Ah, nice doing business with you!"

As the man walked away grumbling, purchase in hand, Sam became aware of someone calling his name.

"—ammy! Saaaaaam. Samuel? Samalicious. Samanth—"

"Dude, shut up, I hear you."

"What's wrong, Sammy? Do I annoy you?"

"Only on days that end with a 'y'."

"Well then I guess it's a good thing it's Sunda."

"Dude, you're such an ass!"

"Don't get bitchy with me. God, you're spacey today."

Sam rolled his eyes. Sam suddenly realized that their father hadn't said anything since before they even entered the 'warehouse'. Sam had almost forgotten he was there. When you know you're outnumbered, try to be as inconspicuous as possible. It was working. Sam thought it was kind of nice. The truth was that when John was around, Sam often felt like he had a dinosaur breathing down his neck. It was nice having their father around, but not in an I'm-going-to-suffocate-you-until-you-win-my-approval-even-though-we-both-know-that-will-never-happen kind of way. John was on edge, though, and Sam couldn't exactly blame him. He felt entirely too vulnerable coming into a place like this unarmed. Hell, he'd feel vulnerable coming to a place like this, even if he had a friggin' missile launcher.

"If you two are done gawking now," Dean said, "then follow me."

He paused, and then added, "And try not to stare too much, okay?"

(1) A Munachi is a hand-carved Bolivian amulet used specifically for inciting passion and desire. The amulet depicts two people having sex.

A/N: So I tried really hard to make this chapter longer, but I don't know if I succeeded. I'm posting this now, even though I'm not completely sure it's free of errors. If you spot ANY ERRORS whatsoever, please TELL ME! You don't have to worry about offending me. Honestly, I'd probably be more offended if I found an error a month later and no one had pointed it out. I mean ANY error. If I put an extra space between words, if I forgot a word, if I made a grammatical error, if I, God forbid, misspelled something…tell me! I don't like it when people don't take my writing as seriously because they can't get past mistakes. I really want to make my readers happy, despite what y'all may think. I know I suuuuuck at updating, but I really want the chapters I manage to get out to be the best that they can be. As for chapter 7, I already have a lot of it written. I even have the footnotes done. By the way, props for anyone who is able to guess what demon Dean is. I haven't really given any hints, that's why you get props if you figure it out. And before you even ASK, he's not Astaroth. I think making Dean a demoness would mess a lot with his character. Also, the Demon is not Azazel in my story. First of all, the fact that the guys could even manage to kill one of the rulers of hell seems kinda unlikely. That, plus the fact that if I kept him as Azazel, then the only way Dean could be more powerful than him would be if he were Astaroth (Azazel's twin sister), Beelzebub (Azazel's grandfather), or Satan himself (Beelzebub's half-brother, and therefore Azazel's…half-great uncle?) I also think it would be really weird if they were siblings or family members. And I would never even consider making Dean Satan because there's already a fabulous fic called Lucifer by Rae666 that I could never hope to match. How funny would it be if I made the Demon Ukobach? XD

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