Ok, To understand the working behind this story you must realise two things. One. I didn't read the Twilight novels until shortly before the release of the fourth book. Two. I was on a MAJOR Supernatural binge at the time. Subsequently, every time I was presented with the character Sam Uley, I couldn't help but picture Sam Winchester. When I told my friends this, Their first question was 'Where's Dean?' so I had to think of a reason why, if the former wolf Alpha was Sam Winchester, Dean would be missing from the picture. And thus, this plot was born.

Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural or Twilight...Although I do own a 'Hunters Guide' (I wrote it myself)


Sam stepped across the wet bracken, ignoring the misty rain on his face and the mud on his bare feet as he continued his rambling journey through the forest. According to his own senses, he was in the lower mountain areas of the Cullen's territory. Sighing, Sam dropped his bag on the ground. Slowly, he pulled the bag open and pulled it out. The List, he called it. It was the only way Sam could rationalize his panic, by giving it a name. He looked once again at the bloody writing, the names all crossed out as their owners met their fate at the hands of a maniac. Sighing, Sam ran his fingers over the names, following the hash red line.

Bobby, the first to fall. Sam's surrogate father and friend in times of need. Bobby had always been there for Sam, even when it put his own life at risk. And it had.

Sam remembered that day like it was yesterday. He had stumbled into Bobby's home, His older brother hanging off his shoulder and whimpering at the pain of the bites on his neck and shoulders.

"Bobby" Sam had called, kicking the door open, both hands occupied in preventing his brother from hitting the floor of their friend and surrogate fathers' living room.

"Bobby. Help!" he shouted again, as Dean's blood dripped onto his shirt.

In the corner of the room, Sam noticed an old couch. Carefully, trying to prevent more pain for his brother, Sam steered the semi-contuse man towards it. Almost as if he could read his little brothers mind, Dean had strengthened his grip on Sam's bloody shirt. Behind both men, a voice called.


Sam heard the sound of footsteps enter the room and then stop. Carefully, trying not to move Dean too much, Sam turned to face his surrogate father. Bobby was standing in the doorway, eyes wide in shock.

"Shit." he whispered.

Sam gripped Dean's hands, trying to untangle himself from his brothers grip, but Dean wouldn't let go.

"Bobby, Help me." he called.

After a moment of stunned silence, Sam heard footsteps. Gently, Bobby reached over to the two brothers and untangled Dean's hands from Sam's shirt. With care, Dean was lowered onto the couch. Sam looked up at Bobby.

"I need a first aid kit" he whispered.

Bobby looked away from Dean to stare at Sam. Then, he grabbed the younger hunters shoulder, steering him out of the room. Once they were in the kitchen, Bobby pulled Sam to face him.

"What happened?" he said in a gruff voice.

"Vampires" Sam answered, his voice trembling.

Bobby nodded and glanced back at the living room and its current occupant.

"How long has he been like this?" he asked, lowering his voice.

Sam shrugged.

"A few hours. I got him here as fast as I could." he whispered.

Both men jumped as a pain filled cry echoed from the living room. Sam turned to run to his brother but Bobby grabbed him.

"Sam. Stop. Dean's in pain. You know what that means."

Sam stopped, staring wide eyed at the door.

Bobby reached up and gripped Sam's shoulder supportively.

"The venom has been in his system for too long. I'm sorry Sam, but Dean's turning. There is nothing we can do."

Bobby watched the blood drain from Sam's face.

Sam felt himself being pushed into a chair, as his whole world collapsed around him.

Sam came back to his senses, fighting back the waves of emotion threatening to consume him. He glanced down at the next name, ignoring the rainwater dripping off his hair and onto his worn shirt.

Ellen. Sweet, strong, reliable Ellen. Always quick to help Sam out. Always watching to prevent Sam from falling into the black embrace of madness. A true friend. Sam knew she had fallen fighting. She would never have given 'him' the satisfaction of seeing her fear.

Sam was speeding through the back roads, the impala meeting the challenge with ease. Not taking his eyes off the road, Sam grabbed the phone and attempted to dial the number. He glanced down at the phone, swore and cleared the number before dialing again. He put the phone to his ear and listened to it ring. Then, he waited, drumming on the steering wheel.

"Hello?" the voice asked on the other end of the phone.

"Ellen, it's Sam" Sam said, gripping the phone tighter.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Ellen asked.

"Ellen, there is something you have to do. You need to call Jo, and then you need to pack up and run. Run and hide."Sam said.

"Sam, stop. You're talking crazy." Ellen replied.

"Ellen, please listen."

"No Sam, you listen. Dean told me that you were acting strange but this is way beyond strange. Now listen, I want you to come down to…."

"Wait, Dean! You have seen him?" Sam asked, panic building up in his voice.

"Yeah, he just turned up here about ten minutes ago."

Sam almost dropped the phone.

"Ellen, Get out of there!" he said.

"Sam." Ellen said in a warning voice. There was a pause.

"Ellen?" Sam asked.

His question was answered with a bloodcurdling scream.

"ELLEN!" Sam cried.

The phone went dead. Sam dropped the phone, and gripped the wheel in both hands.

Two allies gone and Sam was running out of options.

Sam rubbed a wet hand across his face and blinked the water out of his eyes. In his hands, the list absorbed the water. Sam shook the water out of his hair and continued reading.

Jo. Smart, head strong, and very impulsive, Jo could easily hold her own against a threat. But that was never enough to save her. Unlike Ellen, Sam did uncover information of her demise. An empty flat, a body missing. Sam had lost hope for her survival.

The Impala slammed to a halt next to the ambulance, the flashing lights imprinting themselves in Sam's mind. He gripped the wheel tighter and closed his eyes for a moment, taking deep breaths. He was too late. Again. Sam opened his eyes and looked up at the block of flats that had, so recently, housed his friend. Sighing, he reached for the keys in the ignition. A police officer and a fireman walked passed the Impala's window.

"Yeah, the flat was clean. Nothing moved except that list on the wall. Forensics think its written in blood." the policeman said to his collage.

The fireman shook his head. "Any idea who this sicko is?" he asked.

The policeman shrugged. "No clue. But look at this." he said pulling a photo out of his pocket. The fireman took it. "We may not know who this guy is, but we know the name of his next victim"

The fireman handed the photo back. He glanced at his friend. "No last name. And it's a fairly common first man. How can we find the poor bastard before this guy does?"

The policeman shrugged, tucking the photo back into his pocket. Sam watched the two men for a moment before diving across the car to the glove compartment. Pulling it open, he searched through Dean's collection of fake documents, finally un-earthing one that would work. He jumped out of the Impala, and ran after the two men.

"Excuse me?" he called.

The men stopped and turned to face him.

"What?" the firemen asked.

Sam held up the ID.

"Eric Bloom. News Weekly. I was just wondering if I could ask you two gentlemen what happened here?" he asked, once again cursing Dean's inability to think up a non-music related name.

The Fireman grinned. "Like the singer for Blue Oyster Cult?" he asked. He caught his friends glare. "What?" he asked.

The police officer rolled his eyes and pulled Sam to walk beside him "Not much to tell kid. Some of residents heard screaming coming from one of the rooms and called 911. We arrived to find an empty room. No signs of a struggle. Nothing."

Sam nodded, stepping closer to the policeman. Then, he stumbled and almost fell. The policeman caught him.

"You ok kid?" he asked.

Sam nodded. "I'm fine." he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat.

The policeman shrugged. "Well, if you don't need anymore..." he said, clearly trying to escape.

Sam nodded. "I've got all I need for now."

The policeman retreated. The fireman walked over and held out his hand.

"Names Clive Winters. I'll be here all day if you need anymore help Eric."

Sam shook offered hand. "Thank you Mr. Winters." he said. Then he turned back to the Impala.

Sliding into the front seat, Sam reached into his pocket and pulled the photo out. It showed a cream wall, with four names written on it, in a dark red substance. Three were crossed out. One wasn't.

Waking from his nightmare like memory, Sam looked at the last name. Unlike the others, this name this one was surrounded by a think circle, a silent question with a dangerous answer. Sam looked down at his own name, written in his older brothers' handwriting. His older brother, who had systematically destroyed all their friends and allies, who had now found his last victim. The dangerous answer to Deans silent question. Sam was finally found.

Sam shivered and folded the sopping piece of paper up, throwing it into the bag. He had run across the vampire stench earlier this morning. Although his wolf senses were not as strong in his human form, Sam had instantly recognised it.

A howl swept across the valley. Sam looked up from his pack, analysing the direction of the sound. Jacob was calling the pack. Something was happening. Sam dropped to his knees and pulled his bag open. After a quick rummaged through the contence, Sam un-earthed his only hope. Ruby's knife. Tucking it into the worn rope that was his belt, he turned towards the sound and started to run. It was time to face his worst nightmare. It was time to face his brother. Sam ran faster.


Well, what do you think? Should I continue? I promise it will get more 'Twilighty' soon. Oh, and for those who want to know, this is set shortly after the end of the third series of Supernatural, After the fourth book of Twilight, and Dean never went to hell (I'm in denial).