A/N: This is a birthday present for Blue Peanut M&M. Hope you like, girl.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. If I did I'd let her have them for the day. Party time. I'll have to settle for making her happy seeing me wreck Sam(as usual, we're both addicted to Sammybashing!) Only thing that's mine, sadly, is any mistakes. Enjoy...

Under the Light of a Blood Moon

Chapter 1

The moon had just risen above the treetops, glowing red in the misty night. Sam looked up at it, seeing the wise face that resided there in a stark kind of relief. It made him wonder if the face of the "man in the moon" symbolized that there really was some cosmic power out there after all. He wondered if he was worth saving, even if he had all the faith in the world. Somehow, after all that had happened in his life, he doubted he could have enough faith. Sam turned his exasperated gaze from the sky to his brother who was still mumbling under his breath about sonuvabitch demons and lie through their teeth even after I knock them down the host's throats.

"How can you not put any stock in what she said, Dean?"

"How? 'S easy. Demons lie Sam!" Dean retorted as he spun, his feet noisy on the leaf strewn ground, to face his brother.

"But she knew about the virus in River Grove. She knew about Andy, Ava. The intensity of my visions lately… Hell Dean she told me that the last three had me so out of it…"

"ENOUGH SAM! Damn it, don't go there! The bitch lied. No chance are you goin' darkside. Over. My. Damn. Dead. Body! Got me?! Dean menaced, poking Sam in the chest as he vented his frustrations. He lowered his hand and turned away, looking off into the woods. He looked more closely as a flash of movement skirted his vision. He dismissed it as just a deer walking along the game trail ahead of them. "What the hell made us hunt down a demon in the damn woods anyhow? Too much like camping. I hate camping."

Sam heaved a weary sigh and backed down falling into step beside Dean. "Yeah, nothing good happens in a tent."

"Speak for yourself, leaky tent boy. Remember that hunt in the reserve outside Austin? That ranger knew the way of the woods." Dean said, glancing sideways at Sam and wiggling his eyebrows.

Sam laughed and looked ahead of them on the trail. Movement caught his gaze. He made a choked sound, and pointed over Dean's shoulder as Dean stepped in front of Sam automatically. A figure in a long black duster and wide brimmed hat stepped off the trail and disappeared into the woods along side it. "Hey!" Dean yelled, pulling his Colt. Sam pulled his 9 mm and grabbed Dean's shoulder to keep him from bolting after the thing.

"What if it's another demon?"

"If it spouts off any more of this darkside B.S., I'm gonna make it swallow its teeth and follow up with a holy water chaser." Another flash of movement further down the trail had Dean sprinting off when the figure turned and ran.

"DEAN!" Sam yelled, moving quickly to catch up as Dean disappeared into the moonlight night. Sam followed the cracking, snapping branches and twigs as his brother barreled through the trees. Movement to Sam's right stopped him as Dean got further ahead. The dark figure stepped out into the crimson moonlight, directly in front of Sam, causing him to jump and lift his gun, pointing it dead center between the thing's shadowed eyes. Sam took a breath and tried to stare at the features beneath the dark hat.

"What are you?" Sam growled. Red eyes glowed briefly and Sam's head spun as the world tilted for him. It stopped seconds later, making his stomach lurch painfully. He grunted but steadied his aim even as his eyes panned over his surroundings, still not completely leaving the stranger's figure. He found himself in a clearing, surrounded by trees that were fully lit by the blood red appearance of the moon. A disused game trail left the clearing to the east. Everything was colored a sickening crimson by the moonlight. Sam staggered as the light made him nauseous. The man's duster rustled and Sam forced himself to straighten, tightening the grip on his pistol, and casting his attention fully back to… whatever was in the clearing with him only a couple feet away.

He blinked when the red light of the moon burned painfully behind his eye lids. Suddenly the thing was directly in front of him. The gun was wrenched painfully from his hands and skittered several feet away to embed itself under a pile of fallen leaves at the base of a large sugar maple tree. He found himself held immobile in the demon's grasp as it reached out and gripped his biceps. "What do you want?" He ground out, fighting for control of his body in the demon's grip, only managing to gain back his vocal cords and ragged breathing.

A deep voice resonated from the shadow under the brim of the hat. "Fear. It's such an…" the demon drew a breath through its nose and released it on almost a contented sigh, "… exhilarating thing. Your brother is scared. You're scared. You hunters and your concept of good and …evil. You have no idea what lies beyond the black and white. Delusion becomes reality when the vast expanse turns gray." A rattling sound reverberated through the darkness, grating on Sam's nerves and causing pain in his head.

A cold hand snaked out too fast for Sam to see, latching on to his temple. The icy cold against his cheekbone chilling his body as it spread through his blood to his brain.

"Nnnnn…uh." Sam choked out as he crumpled to the ground in an unmoving heap. The cloaked figure looked down, red eyes glowing briefly before turning into a molten silver gray and finally cooling to blend back into the shadowed features. It lifted it's hand and shook it, the rattling sound growing to a crescendo before it died off as the demon lowered his gloved fist. The demon turned, leaves rustling beneath the hem of the black duster as he stepped out of the red moonlight and into the dark beneath the trees. The final whisper of the heavy fabric gave way to the stirring of the breeze and the chirp of crickets.

Dean stopped in his flight through the woods as he lost sight of the dark shadow moving fast through the woods. "Sonuvabitch!" He said as he put his hands on his thighs and breathed slow to catch his breath. He waited a moment for Sam to catch up to him, standing straight when he heard no crashes through brush behind him or snapping of twigs. "Sam?" Dean turned and listened, hearing nothing but the stirring breeze and crickets resuming the chirping melody that was disturbed by the hunter's flight.

"Where the hell is that kid? SAMMY?!" Dean yelled. He turned back, his hackles rising at the thought of Sam and him being separated. How the hell could I not realize he wasn't behind me? "Sammy!" Dean barked out sharply. He looked up through a gap in the trees to see that the moon had moved high and was now white. Normal. Dean huffed a laugh. "Freakin woods. Too damn much like camping. Somethin' crappy always happens. SAAAMMMMYYYYY!" Dean yelled into the moon light, hoping to hear his brother's typical response of "ya tryin' to wake the dead, Dean? I'm right here."

Hearing nothing but the crickets, which he had startled into silence briefly, Dean ran back the way he had come, following his own back trail with ease. He kept his eyes open for signs of Sam. Maybe he tripped over his own big feet, or a root. He's so gettin' hell for wearing those stupid sneakers instead of hikers or work boots. Probably sprained an ankle. Oh that'll be fun. Bitchy Sammy with a limp. Dean stopped, looking off to his right when he saw the weak remnants of a new trail being made through the underbrush. He looked at a twig and saw a single strand of longish brown hair. "Sammy?" Dean questioned again, certain his brother was close. He followed the new trail that Sam had made and came to an abrupt dead end. No signs of Sam or the dude they'd seen in the woods.

"Damn it Sam. You keep disappearing like this… SAMMY!" Dean broke off his sentence to yell again. "Scarin' the hell outta me. ANSWER ME DAMN IT!" Dean turned to his left, and spotted a weak game trail. "Maybe he followed the trail. Sammy, I am so gonna kick your ass little brother." Right after I make sure you're okay. Dean took off down the trail at a lope. He'd been moving for several moments when the trail took an abrupt left and emptied into a clearing. Dean stopped, the white light of the moon, as he broke from the trees, nearly blinding him. He blinked and his heart dropped to his toes. "SAM?!" His brother was laying on his side in the leaves, his back to Dean, unmoving. "Sammy!" Dean cried as he rushed to his brother and slid to his knees on the ground, sending leaves skittering up over Sam's back to stick in the fabric of his flannel shirt. Dean brushed the leaves away and reached around Sam, feeling for a pulse. He found one, a little too fast for his liking. Dean put a hand to Sam's back and felt the slight rise and fall that let him know Sam was breathing. "Sammy, wake up. C'mon kid. Don't do this." Did he have another vision? Did he find that damn stranger? Dean felt over Sam's body, looking for injury and pausing when he felt Sam's clammy skin. "Gotta get you outta the woods kiddo. You're packin' a chill. Come on Sam. Need ya to wake up." Dean rolled Sam gently onto his back and lifted him so that he was semi-sitting. Dean crawled around to sit behind him, allowing Sam to come to rest against his chest. Sam's head lolled a bit and Dean straightened it up when Sam wheezed, signaling a blocked airway from the position of his head.

"Mnn." Sam groaned in Dean's arms, the sound more a breathless, meaningless grunt. It was enough.

"Sammy, hey. Open your eyes." Dean said as he angled his torso to look into Sam's face even as he supported his brother against him.

"D-nnn." Sam said, groggily.

"Hey, yeah,'s me."

"Guh," Sam grunted as his eyes opened and scrunched shut again, pain lines ringing the corners.

"You hurt?"

"Head." Sam whispered, pulling himself out of Dean's arms to flop onto his side in the leaves. He turned his head into the earth and groaned, his feet digging at the ground slowly as he writhed in pain.

"Did you hit your head?" Dean asked automatically ghosting his hand over Sam's disheveled hair gently, feeling for the signs of an injury. The stickiness of blood or the telltale heat of swelling.

"Nuh." Sam ground out breathlessly. "Migraine." He whispered as the word turned to a groan of pain.

"Okay. We're only 'bout a quarter mile from the car. Get ya back there an' to the motel." Dean gripped the shoulders of Sam's jacket and sat him up as gently as he could. Sam hissed and clenched his eyes shut tight. "Sorry." Dean shifted from his knees to his feet, remaining crouched and trying not to jostle Sam. Every puff of agonized breath, every stifled groan of pain that Sam uttered, or tried not to, set Dean's teeth on edge. He hated that he hadn't kept an eye on Sam. Hated that Sam was in pain. Hated the crunching leaves that made Sam's eyes water with pain. "Easy Sammy. Gonna get you on your feet now." Dean said softly as he looped Sam's long arm over his shoulders around the back of his neck. Dean bench pressed his brother and heaved them both to their feet.

"MMmhhhhnnnnnn." Sam groaned low as he sagged against Dean, nearly sending them both back into the leaves.

"Whoa, easy! I gotcha." Dean whispered as he locked his knees and took nearly all of Sam's weight. Sam settled against Dean, the top of his head hitting Dean's cheekbone hard enough to sting. Dean gripped the wrist of the arm that was over his shoulders and hooked his fingers around the belt that circled Sam's waist. He felt Sam lift his head and try valiantly to stop it from lolling on his shoulders. "'s okay. I gotcha. Just take it easy." Dean took a hesitant step forward, checking to see if Sam's feet would follow. They did. Dean took another step and a deep breath, starting the trek out of the woods with Sam in tow.

Sam forced his eyes open, trying to focus on the ground beneath his feet. He felt detached from his body, from everything but the pain in his head. It blanketed him, suffocated him. Tried to drown him, light him on fire. It tried every way imaginable to take him under. He blinked hard, breathed. Let Dean ground him. Sam's head lolled back and he took another deep breath, this time squinting at the white moon high over head until his sensitive eyes adjusted to the light. Then they opened wide, glazing just slightly as a gray film passed over them. It cleared and Sam blinked again, his head dropping nearly to his chest again, feeling Dean tighten his hold once again. He let Dean have him. Trusted him. Sam's world went gray around the edges and he floated, letting his feet follow Dean's lead as they scuffed through the leaves and over twigs.

Minutes later, or maybe hours, Dean dragged a heavy, nearly unresponsive Sam into the clearing just off the road where they had parked the Impala. Her black paint shone in the white light of the moon. "Aw, baby," Dean panted, "I sure am glad to see you." Dean pulled Sam up and braced him, letting him lean heavily as he let go enough to get the passenger door open. "That's it Sammy. We're back at the car."

"De?"

"Yeah Sammy. Let's get you in the car." Dean took Sam's arm and steered him around to get a better grip on his sibling. "Dude, you're too freakin' tall for my good. Whoa!" Dean cried as Sam started to crumple against him, his hooded eyes slipping closed. Dean gripped Sam's biceps and held him up, quickly wrapping an arm around his back and easing him against his chest. "Watch your head, watch your head." Dean muttered as he cupped a hand to the back of Sam's head, feeling the softness of his wavy hair, the leaves that still clung tightly to the strands as if they wanted to leave the forest. Dean understood how they felt. He finally wrestled Sam's gangly arms and legs in to the seat and propped him against the seat. Dean took a breath and ran on aching legs around the car, sliding into the driver's seat. He settled his brother more firmly and fired the Impala's rumbling engine. He pulled out, careful to ease into the gas so he didn't spin or fishtail on the grassy surface. He reached the pavement and laid his foot on the accelerator, the engine responding with a throaty growl, the big car smoothly eating up the road back to their motel.

It was after one a.m. when Dean pulled into the motel parking lot putting a hand to his brother's chest to keep him from slumping forward as he eased the brakes on the car. Sam never moved. He looked around carefully to make sure no one would see him toting a nearly unconscious little brother into the motel room. Seeing no one, he turned to his brother and reached out, feeling first for a pulse and finding one, moving his hand to brush back an untamable lock of Sam's hair. "Okay Sasquatch, let's get you into the room." Dean said as he reached for his door handle and soon skirted the car, reaching for the passenger side door. He opened it with a squeal and cringed when he saw Sam's eyes open blearily. Sam blinked once and Dean watched his mouth turn down into a pout as his nose twitched. "Hey sleeping beauty. Glad you decided to make it a little easier hauling your ass into the room." Dean said as he reached out and cupped Sam's neck, feeling the warmth that was his little brother.

"Dean?" Sam said, tiredly. "Are we back at the motel?"

"Yeah, come on. Can you walk?" Dean asked as he pulled Sam's feet out of the foot well and turned him in the seat.

"Yeah. Think so." Sam pushed to his feet with only a little help from Dean. He swayed and winced as his head throbbed. Dean moved to his side and gripped his arm just above his elbow as Sam stepped forward. They made slow progress but were soon in the room. Dean locked the door behind him automatically and returned his hand to his brother, just guiding him as Sam found his own footing across the carpet. Dean took Sam's shoulder and eased him down onto the bed, putting his feet up and pulling off his shoes. Sam let Dean remove his shoes before turning over in the bed and putting the heel of his palm up to his forehead, pressing hard on the ridge of his eyebrows.

"Ya want somethin' for your head?"

Sam sighed and relaxed, falling asleep without answering his brother's question. Dean watched the tension melt out of the lines of his brother's body. Sam's hand relaxed but remained at his head, now lying on the pillow. Dean ran a hand up over his hair and down the back of his neck, feeling the clamminess of his sweaty skin. He stood from the bed and reached for his duffel, digging through to find some clean clothes. After wrapping his hand around a clean pair of boxers and a gray tee-shirt he headed for the shower. Returning from his shower fifteen minutes later and still feeling exhausted, Dean checked to make sure Sam was sleeping peacefully before laying on his own bad and closing his eyes with a sigh.

Sam stood in the clearing, the shadowed form facing him from only inches away. "You know what you'll become. You can't win if you try to fight. It grows stronger as it eats away your innocence. You are becoming who you're meant to be. You're growing dark, the evil in you pervading every cell. It darkens and destroys you Sam Winchester. It will take everything from you if you don't stop it. It will destroy. It will take Dean, Bobby. Everyone you ever cared for will be wiped from the face of the earth by your darkness if you don't do something about it. Dean won't keep his promise. He won't stand by the words of your father. He won't stop you. He'll be the first of a long list of casualties laid at your feet in the coming war. The war you will fight for on the opposing side. It's what we want Sam. YOU CAN'T WIN."

"I'll never hurt him. I'll never give in! I'll die first!" Sam said, backing away from the dark form. It advanced on him in the blink of an eye.

"You just might. But you will lose." The hand shot out and touched Sam's temple, cold, cloying, burning a way into his brain like frostbite. Sam screamed. Sam gasped and sat upright on the bed, sunlight streaming through the window to color the bottom of the rust colored bedspread a bright copper. His eyes were downcast, the gray color obscured by his eyelashes as Dean sat up in his bed quickly. Sam's breathing began to slow and Dean slid from his bad to perch on the edge of Sam's. He reached out.

"Sammy, ya alright?" No response and Sam's eyes remained down, looking at where his knees would be under the covers. "Sammy?" Dean touched Sam's cheek, finding it to have a flush of warmth to it. "Hey, you with me here?"

Sam shook himself and looked up, his hazel eyes finally finding Dean's. "Huh, what?"

"You alright?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"The migraine gone?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna grab a shower." Sam said as he pushed back the covers and stood from the bed, brushing past Dean and grabbing clothes out of his duffel which rested on the chair near the door to the bathroom. Dean turned on the edge of the bed and watched his brother as Sam disappeared into the room silently, closing and locking the door behind him.

"Huh." Dean said under his breath as he stood and reached for his discarded jeans, pulling them on. He brushed dry dirt from the knees and stood straight, popping kinks out of his spine. He reached for his jacket and shrugged into the familiar leather. He pulled his keys from his pocket and sat on the end of his messy bed, waiting for Sam to emerge from the shower. He opened the door twenty minutes later, no steam following him out of the room. He was wearing a gray tee under a brown and tan flannel and jeans with holes in both knees and frayed cuffs. His hair was wet, brushed back from his face and curling over his collar, darkening the material covering his shoulders. "Jeez Samantha. Took you long enough." Sam tucked his dirty clothes onto the chair where his duffel rested and looked at Dean silently, rolling his eyes. Dean regarded him for a moment, taking in the pinched look on his face and the washed out hazel of his eyes. "You sure you're okay?

"You want coffee or what?" Sam asked, turning to face Dean and splaying his hands out from his sides.

"Yeah, fine." Dean said quietly, staring at his brother. Dean stood and followed Sam to the Impala, scrutinizing his brother. Sam was quiet, the pinched look still dominating his features. Dean shook his head minutely and started the car. Pulling out he watched briefly as Sam turned his head to stare out the window. Dean looked again as he caught his brother's reflection in the polished glass. Sam's eyes were gray. What the hell? Dean shook himself, not letting Sam sense his agitation. "You feel like eatin' breakfast?"

Sam just gave a non committal grunt. Dean worked his hands on the firm surface of the steering wheel, his knuckles going from pink to white and back again as he squeezed the wheel tight. "Enough Sam." Dean barked. Sam jumped slightly and turned to face him, his hazel eyes confused.

"Enough what?" Sam asked.

"What's goin' on with you? You have a vision in the woods or somethin'?"

"No. I told you Dean. It was a migraine."

"Which you generally get after a vision."

"I didn't have a vision."

"So why…"

"Just. Drop. It." Sam growled.

"Fine." Dean said, his knuckles still white on the wheel.

"Fine." Sam echoed, his teeth bared in a snarl on the word.

Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of the local diner and got out. Sam followed him through the door silently. Dean eyed the diner and spotted the bathroom door right near the back exit. "I'm gonna hit the head. Be back in a minute. Go ahead and order."

"Whatever." Sam said, his eyes dropping to the table top. Dean left the table and walked down the checkered tile to the bathroom, opening the door before allowing it to close and ducking in the next breath out the back exit of the diner, pulling his cell phone from his pocket. He hit a button and listened to it ring.

"Hello?"

"Bobby, its Dean."

"Dean, haven't heard from you in a couple weeks, what's goin' on?"

"Hey, where are you?"

"Utah, why?" Bobby paused; Dean could hear the engine sounds of Bobby's Chevelle in the background. "Dean, somethin' wrong?"

"I think its Sammy."

"Ya think? What's goin' on with the boy?"

"I don't know. He- we were on a hunt last night and we got separated. When I finally found him he was unconscious. Took me a while to wake him and when I did he had a bastard of a migraine. Got him back to the motel and he fell asleep. This morning he wakes up, won't talk, stares off into space and I… Bobby, I swear I could see his… his eyes change color." Dean said brokenly as moisture gathered in the green.

"What?! What do you mean change color? Black?"

"No. It's like they go, I dunno, silver- or gray, like a blind man's."

"I'll look into it Dean. I'm headed your way. Dean, what were you huntin' last night?"

"It was a demon. We got it. Chased it into the woods and nailed the bitch after she spouted a lotta crap about Sammy goin' darkside, the demonic virus I told ya about, the other psychics. It was pretty full of itself."

"Then what happened? How'd ya get separated?"

"We were walkin' back to my car when we saw this dude, dressed like somethin' outta the West. Y'know, duster, wide brimmed black hat. Anyhow Sam thought he was a demon. I took off after it and, damn it, I didn't think to make sure that Sammy was right behind me. I lost the thing and doubled back when I couldn't find Sammy. He was about a half mile east, unconscious in a clearing."

"Okay Dean. I'll be there in about six hours. Just keep an eye on your brother."

"Thanks man."

"Don't thank me until we find out what's up with Sam."

Sam smiled wanly at the waitress, trying to snap himself out of the fog that held him tight. What the hell is wrong with me? He shook his head minutely, shaking his thoughts, trying to free them from the prison of his mind. The waitress smiled down at him. "What'll ya have honey?"

"Just two coffees at the moment, please. And can you bring extra cream and sugar?"

"Sure sweetie. Be back in just a moment." Sam nodded and dropped his gaze. A minute later two coffee cups filled with steaming liquid were on the table in front of him. Sam gripped the mug closest to him, the warmth seeping into his blood through his hands. She pulled her pad and a pen from her apron pocket. He smiled up at her, the smile freezing and dying as he caught her eyes. They were silver, glowing. They flashed red. Sam's hand clenched on the mug, splintering the china, sending scalding coffee over his right hand and wrist, reddening it, raising blisters as the skin puckered and steamed. Sam didn't feel it. He couldn't pull his eyes away from the waitress.

"You'll lose Sam. This is a battle you can't win. Darkness will be the victor here. You'll destroy everyone you love; the world will fall at your feet. Broken. Burning. You will come into your powers and it will blacken your soul. It will turn your eyes to pitch. You will lose Sam." The waitress said in a voice that didn't belong to her. A resonating voice Sam found familiar and painful. The tttk-ttk-ttttkk of rattling bones sent a shaft of pain through Sam's head.

"NO!" Sam bolted from the table, still clenching the broken shards of coffee mug in his blistered hand, blood ran from his palm as he squeezed the glass. He grabbed the waitress around the shoulders, pulling her back against his chest as he faced off against the other people in the room. Some of them screamed, some cursed, some placated, trying to get him to free the waitress as Sam held the shard of china against the skin of her throat. "No, you won't turn me." Sam growled low into the waitress' ear. "I won't let you win."

"What? What are you talking about? Why are you doing this? You need help." The waitress said in a tiny, terrified voice.

"LIES!" Sam said, tightening his arm around her chest, shaking her. She screamed and clenched her eyes shut as the china bit into her neck. "You're a demon. You lie!"

Dean had hung up the call with Bobby and slipped back into the diner. His ears picked up on a commotion in the main room in front of him right away. He walked quickly down the hall, his boots thumping on the tile. A woman screamed and Dean put his hand behind his back, wrapping strong fingers around the butt of his Colt. He broke into a run as he pulled the gun, keeping it concealed at his side. Dean stopped dead in his tracks. Sam was out of the booth, holding the waitress around the shoulders. He held her back to his chest as a human shield. His muscular forearm clenched tight as tears streamed down her pale face and she pleaded for him to let her go. Sam held the jagged edge of a broken coffee mug to her throat. Dean saw that the hand holding the sliver was bright red and blistered. Burned.

"Sam, let her go!" Dean yelled, instantly making the diner fall silent. Sam stiffened and the girl cried out as she felt the china bite deeper into her neck, just enough to send warm blood down to the hollow of her collar bone. A man moved behind Sam, a folding steel chair clenched tightly in his fists. He lifted it, preparing to swing it with Sam being the intended target. Dean's gun shifted from his side to the man with the chair. A woman's shrill scream nearly drowned out the staccato report of the pistol. The bullet slammed into the seat of the chair and knocked it from the man's hands to clatter to the floor of the diner. "Don't even think about it!" Dean ground out. "All of you, back against the wall! NOW!" Dean barked out as he swept the pistol over the breakfast crowd. They scrambled to do his bidding, men holding women and children tight, staying close to the wall. Dean, when he was sure the civilians wouldn't be trouble, leveled the gun on his brother.

"Sammy, what the hell?"

"Dean. That thing, from last night. It's here, in the diner. It's in the woman." Sam shook the woman in his arms roughly and she cried out. Sam tightened his hold on the woman, making her whimper as the glass bit roughly into her neck, the jagged tip stained crimson.

"Sammy."

"NO DEAN! It's here. She said the same thing that it did to me!"

"It talked to you?!"

Sam's eyes glazed briefly, before he shook his head. They cleared. "Yes… No. I don't know. It's like it was in my head. What's happening to me?" Sam asked, puzzled as confusion swamped him. "No!" Sam shook the woman roughly. "Tell him. Tell him what you said to me."

"I didn't. I don't know what you mean!"

"Sammy, let her go. Let's get outta here. Get you settled down. We'll figure this out. I promise Sammy." Dean said as he lowered the gun slightly. A look of anger crossed Sam's face as he gaped at the woman who'd just told him he was to be the destroyer of all he loved.

"You lie!" Sam shook the woman, bringing a thick line of blood to her throat with the china. "Demons lie!" Another woman in the diner screamed at the sight of the woman's blood.

"Shoot him! Stop him from hurting her!" the shrill voice rang out as the frizzy haired woman begged Dean to shoot. "For God's sake stop him!"

"Shut up!" Dean barked. The woman fell silent. "Sammy, come on." Dean begged softly. "Just let her go."

"No. She's a demon. She has to die!" he screamed trying to drown out the sound of the bones. Sam started to drag the shard across her throat and she gave a pain filled scream. Dean angled the gun and pulled the trigger.

A/N2: Oops! Wonder what happened to Sammy? Don't forget to hit that little button.