alright, so here is the first chapter. It's a little slow at first, but I promise things will pick up soon.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the characters, but I do own the plot and anyone who might show up.
Sam turned his attention to Dean who was leaning against the passenger side door fast asleep, snoring. It was nearly two in the morning and they had finished up a job in Dallas, Texas a couple hours earlier. Being in Texas was starting to become a place they always ended up at, they even started to call it home just because they went there so often.
Now in Salt Lake City, Utah, they headed for the nearest motel.
Sam rubbed the back of his neck, trying to make the stiffness go away as he brought his eyes back to the road. He had been driving for hours and it was starting to take a toll on him. Continuing to drive, he saw a sign up a head that told him it was a motel. "This'll do," he thought, slowing down, coming to the entrance.
He cut the engine once he parked the car, and then pushed the door opened, climbing out; he stretched his legs before making his way to the entrance.
Dean sat up as he woke up. He stared out the windshield and saw a building in front of him. Leaning forward, he lifted his eyes up and saw the name of the inn on the front. Yawning, he got out and looked around, but he didn't see Sam anywhere so he figured he was getting them a room. He leaned up against the side of the Impala, and waited.
"Good, you're awake."
Dean turned and saw Sam walking to him. "When did we get here?"
"A few minutes ago," came Sam's reply.
Dean faced the car and watched as Sam opened the door, grabbing his bag off the seat. "You'll be driving next."
"Fine," Dean said, grabbing his own bag. "What time is it?"
"You have a watch," Sam said, looking at him.
"If you have forgotten, it got busted on the last hunt," Dean said, reminding him.
"Oh, yeah," Sam nodded. "You should probably buy a new one while we are here."
Dean sighed. He hated having to buy new stuff every so often from the hunts they do. It seemed like every other week something got broken or lost, to him, and he was tired of it.
"How much is this place, by the way?" Dean asked, following Sam to the entrance.
Dean sighed. "Just perfect," he mumbled.
Walking to their room, Sam pulled the key out from his jacket pocket and stuck it into the slot, unlocking the door. Pushing it open, they stepped inside and Dean flipped on the light.
Both sighing, they stared at the room; the off-white walls looked as if they had many stains on them from leaks that came from the ceiling, and the grey carpet had a couple stains on it near the corners, and some other stains neither brother wanted to guess what it could have been from, and the room smelled of mold and another scent they figured was some kind of spray to get rid of the smell.
Dean shook his head, tossing his bag on the bed he claimed for the night. "No matter what the owner does, this stench won't go away."
"I agree," Sam agreed, setting his own bag down. "Well, I'm beat," he said, grabbing his shirt he slept in, and a pair of sweat pants out of his bag before he made his way to the bathroom.
Dean knew he wouldn't be falling asleep anytime soon, so he walked over to the table Sam had set the laptop bag on and pulled it out. Lifting the top, he turned it on and then sat down.
The bathroom door opened with a squeak, Sam walking out, now heading to his bed. "Are you going to do some research?" he wondered.
"Yeah, might as well. You shouldn't have let me fall asleep," Dean answered, keeping his eyes on the screen.
Sam shrugged. "Oh well," he said, lying down.
Dean began his research for the hunt they were going to start.
"So, get this… the husband tells the police he heard his wife scream from the second floor at 12am, and when he went to see what was happening, there she is on the bedroom floor, face stuck in a horrified expression, and her hair half white," Dean told Sam the next morning while they drank their coffees in the motel room.
"Did he say he saw anybody?" Sam asked, looking over the article Dean found on the internet.
"No signs of anyone. Not even a sign of force entry," he replied, taking a gulp from his coffee.
"No sounds of anything?"
"Not a thing."
"Did you find an address?"
"What do you think?" Dean smirked.
"Right, dumb question," Sam said, shaking his head.
"There is one thing, though."
"Yeah, what's that?"
"There's more than just one hunt here."
"What? What else is happening?"
"Oh, just a pack of vampires," Dean told him, as he reached down and grabbed something out of his pocket. "I have an address for where the last victim was, and I was thinkin' you could deal with the phantom, and I will handle the nest."
Sam stared at Dean with a look that told him he didn't really approve. "I don't know…"
"It'll be easy," Dean said. "Once I'm done, I will meet you at the house."
Sam still hesitant, he sighed. "Alright," he finally agreed. "Call me if you can't finish the job alone."
"It shouldn't be too hard to off a couple of vampires, who I might add, leave too many clues around. It's amateur hour."
Sam, rubbing the back of his sore head, he sighed at the fact he had gotten thrown into a wall by the thing he had to handle alone. Making his way to rental car he managed to get for the time being, he started pulling out the keys from his pocket when he heard the sound of the Impala coming down the road. He watched as Dean parked the car along the side of the driveway, and then rolled down the window.
"Are ya finished?" Dean asked.
"Yeah," Sam nodded. "You?"
"If I wasn't, I wouldn't be here."
Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's reply and opened the door to the renal. "Follow me while I take this back."
"Oh come on, you know you want it. That small blue marina suits you, Sammy," Dean teased.
"Shut up and start driving."
Dean laughed as he put the Impala back into drive and then sped off, Sam following a moment later.
Once they got back to the motel, Dean went straight to the bathroom while Sam began packing up their stuff so they could leave.
Dean pulled off his jacket and set it down on the edge of the sink as he stared at himself in the mirror. The dark circles started to show from not sleeping enough the last couple of weeks. His skin seemed a lot paler than the last time he noticed the color of his skin. Turning his head to the left, he brought his hand up and touched the spot on his neck; the two markings he managed to get on his hunt started to get more redness around them, and the dry blood started to turn a darker shade. He knew it was trouble. How he could let one of the vampires get him, he wouldn't know. He was normally faster at fighting, but that day was an off day he never wanted to repeat.
Sighing again, he turned on the faucet and cupped his hands together, and then slashed the water onto his face before he dealt with his neck. "No way can I tell Sam…" he thought aloud. "Not yet…"