Ok, this is MY FIRST FANFICTION STORY EVER! Just to let you know a bit about me, oh fans of Sam, Dean, and Castiel, I am 15 and from Connecticut. I love these boys with all my heart, and if you don't like Supernatural, please don't tell me, because I will go shrivel up and combust out of sorrow. Now, for the first ever story I will write (a Sam Hurt! And Dean Protective!)

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Chapter 1

Sam blindly threw his arm out from under the covers, searching for his alarm clock, his face still buried in his pillow. His limp hand stretched its way to the button, and he sighed as the beeping finally stopped. Being a generally good morning person, Sam automatically sat up and stretched, letting out a yawn. Throwing back the cheap motel duvet, he swung his moose-sized legs over the bed onto the floor, grimacing as his toasty feet made contact with the linoleum. In nothing but boxers, he trudged slowly into the bathroom, early morning sunlight shining through his disheveled mane. He smiled into the mirror and reached for his toothbrush.

Dean groaned loudly into his pillow when he heard the shower running. He managed enough morning energy to lift his bleary eyes to the night stand. "7'oclock in the freakin' morning," he grumbled to himself. Dean had almost settled back into dreamland when Sam started to hum in the shower.

"Cuz I'm a cowboy, bah-bah-ba-bah, on a steeeel horse I riiiiide…."

"Oh mother of God…" Dean groaned. He grabbed his second pillow and crushed it down on top of his head, desperately trying to muffle the sound of Sam's tone-deaf voice attempting to sing Bon Jovi.

But, of course, Sam only grew louder.

The singing pierces further and further past the layers of cheap cotton covering Dean's ears until finally he threw the pillow at the bathroom door. "You son of a bitch!" he yelled. Sam's laugh was loud and clear over the thrum of water.

"Good morning to you, too, smiley!"

"Man, C'mon! It's not even morning! This is still, like, late night-time!"

"It's almost 7:30, Dean- Time to wake up and get going on this hunt. They had another kill just last week and we need to find this thing before another early bird misses the special." The monster they had been tracking had a specific taste for those in diapers…and not the baby kind.

As much as Dean knew they had to get a move on, he was just so damn comfortable.

"Five more minutes, sasquatch. Five. That's all I'm asking.

"No way, short stuff. Last time you said five minutes, I waited for half an hour. Get your ass out of bed."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Grumble…grumble…grumble."

Dean reluctantly got out of bed and waddled towards the bathroom. He drank way too much last night, his throbbing headache reminded him. "All right," he announced as he walked in the bathroom. "Be decent, and no peek-a-booing out of the shower. I'm coming in here to take a pis."

Sam laughed heartily. "No worries big bro."

Twenty minutes later, when the boys were washed, dressed, and packed, they headed out of their motel room and climbed into the Chevy. Dean felt his Impala rumble to life beneath him and a huge grin spread across his face.

Dean slid his shades over his piercing green eyes. It was way too bright out for eight in the morning, but yet again, that might just be his hangover. "Okay, let's go."

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"So, tell me again what we're looking at here?" Dean took a left at the intersection, heading towards to the county coroner's department. Sam sat shotgun, papers and files spread across his lap. "Well," Sam began, skimming over his notes. "Three bodies in the last five days- Multiple puncture wounds to the torsos. Whatever stuck 'em then sucked 'em, because all of the patients livers and heart were removed."

"Gross. So, we looking at something that eats human guts? How big were the puncture wounds?"

"Um," he glanced down and sifted through the papers, "About one inch diameter, perfect circles."

"Any connection between victims - Besides the fact that they were all in their 80's and up?"

"Not from what I could find. They traveled in different social circles, went to different clubs, homes, etc. They didn't even live near each other. Whatever this thing is, it's targeting them based on one factor and one only: their age."

Dean nodded. "So, who shit the bed first?"

Sam rolled his eyes. His brother was so eloquent. "Our first Victim, Randolph Harrison, age 92 was found dead in his room at the Apple Tree Senior Citizen's Center. Missing His Heart and Liver. Third victim, Maria Hernandez, age 86. Lived alone, found in her house by her son during his weekly visit, same MO." Sam paused.

"What is it, Sammy?"

Sam Shuddered. "Says here, the old lady's cats hadn't been fed in a few days, and when she croaked…"

"Oh…well…" Dean swallowed. "That takes Meow Mix to a whole new level, doesn't it?"

Both brothers were silent for a split second, and then simultaneously gave a little shudder. Sam shook his head and refocused on the file. "Finally, third victim, George Peeling, age 90- Taken from the Bingo Hall Bathroom on Tuesday night, found dead in an alley 3 miles away."

Dean tried to control the urge to smile, his lips twitching upward. Sam noticed it before Dean could stifle the grin. "What the hell's so funny?"

"He was-hehe- On the John, Sammy." As if that explained everything. Sam gave him a blank stare.

"You know…the commode, the oval office, the log cabin, the porcelain throne, the crapper, the-"

"Yah, Dean, I get that part. Thank you. But what's your point?"

"Well," he looked at Sam's so-not-getting-it face. "You know! Talk about getting caught with your pants around your ankles…"

Dean released the impish laugh as Sam made Bitch Face #31 and rolled his eyes. "Dude, you are such a child."

"Hey. I have a sparkling fucking personality."

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The Winchesters pulled into the County Coroner's office a little bit before 9:30.

They would have been there much sooner, but Dean had seen a sign in the diner window as they were driving:

"Apple Pie- Buy One Get One Free!"

Dean had nearly caused an accident when he turned hard to the left without so much as a blinker. But of course, Dean would argue, it was all for the pie.

So, now, in the trunk, they officially had shotguns, salt rounds, stakes, voodoo charms, hex bags, artillery belts, handguns, flamethrowers, demon traps, Latin spells, holy water…and two apple pies. Ooh, how intimidating.

They finally entered the building, flashing oh-so-convincing FBI badges. The boys strolled confidently into the morgue, Dean flashing a brilliant smile at the female officer behind the desk.

"Ok," Sam pointed to the wall of steel doors. "Door 7, 9, and 13." Dean slid out each tray accordingly and pulled back the sheets. Dean walked to the nearest tray. "All right, let's start with the freshest one-the one they found on the shitter." Dean smiled and gave a low, husky chuckle.

Sam slapped him upside the head.

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Dean pulled off his latex gloves, as did Sam. They had observed and recorded just about everything they could. "We know that the only organs missing were the heart and the liver, right Sammy?"

"Its Sam," he interjected quickly and robotically. He had done this many times before. "And it looks like it. I just don't know any kind of monster that has these types of killing patterns. Was there anything in Dad's Journal?"

"I didn't think so." Dean sighed. "But I'll look again. In the meantime, you can do research. Is your laptop still frozen?"

Sam stared at him. "If by 'frozen' you mean 'bugged down with a virus that you downloaded off of God-knows-what porn site,' then yes, Dean. Yes it is. Thank you for that. Really, it was so great opening up my laptop in front of Jo and Ellen and having them see that. Really. That girl was so nicely framed there, frozen on the screen."

"Hey," Dean threw up his hands in defense. "I already told you, Sammy, It wasn't' me!"

"Yep, right Dean. It must have been Cas."

"It's possible…"

"Shut up, Dean."

Silence.

Dean pouted, glaring at his feet. He waited until Sam had walked several feet in front of him.

"You shut up…"

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Due to the lack of Internet access, Sam had to use the public resources. Dean dropped Sam off at the library to finish the research around 8 o'clock at night, when it would be most deserted.

"I'll be back here to pick you up at 10, ok? Call me if you need me." Sam gave a wave over his shoulder to let Dean know he heard him. Dean nodded to himself and took the Impala out of park. As he rolled away, he got a small nagging sensation in the back of his mind, like something was wrong. He slowed the Impala, eyebrows furrowed. He felt something, something in the air. He had always trusted his gut, but this time he was sure he was simply overreacting. "For Christ's Sake," He muttered under his breath. "When did you turn into such a chick, Dean Winchester?" He shrugged off the feeling and checked the rearview mirror one last time. Dean was comforted by the sight of his little (only in age) brother walking calmly into the library.

See? Dean told himself. Nothing was wrong, you're just paranoid. Nothing another scotch won't fix, am I right? Oh but then again, that hangover was pretty nasty…but was it worth it?

Yah.

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Sam watched his brother cruise out of sight. He casually walked up the stairs to the front door. Sam's long fingers were resting over the great iron handle when the hairs on the back of his neck went fully erect. The feeling of being watched swept over him like a dark wave. Something was off. Really off.

Sam continued on normally, without giving away any hint of unease. He stepped inside the library, and let the door close behind him. Outwardly he appeared calm, but inside he was ready to strike. The atmosphere didn't feel….right. Even for a library, it was quiet. The lights were dim and his footsteps, quiet as they were on the carpeting, seemed to have an echo.

"Hello?" He called. "Hello?" He glanced at the open sign on the door. The library wasn't supposed to close until ten, and the door had been unlocked. Sam hastened his pace, searching for a librarian, or anyone. "Hello? Anyone here?" A rustle came from the corner, behind the children's books. Sam's hand flew to his side, fingers closing firmly around his gun. "Who's there?" Sam demanded as he drew his weapon.

Sam walked slowly and carefully, taking in every detail, listening at watching intently for any noise or shadow. There it was again-the rustle. He pinpointed the location. Sam walked in an arc around the aisle, going to quickly and not thinking. The blood was pounding in his ears. Sam stumbled, nearly falling completely as his foot connected with a heavy object blocking his path. Sam glimpsed down, his eyes meeting nothing but the dead stare of a blood splattered woman. Holes in her chest and abdomen were encircled by pools of red. The blood on her shirt and pants was a rust color, and the red pools on the carpet were caked. She had been dead for some time, but not more than an hour or two. Sam felt fear growing like a black hole inside his stomach. The dead body had caught him by surprise, and no matter how long he did this job, Sam knew he would never get used to seeing mutilated corpses. Taking a steadying breath, the young Winchester reached into his pocket and drew his cell. Dean answered on the second ring.

"Whadda ya' want?"

Sam sighed at his brother's friendly greeting. He sounded like he was already half in the bag. "It's Sam."

"Wassup? You ok?"

"I've got a body here, man."

"Shit. Who?"

"Looks like the librarian. Old lady, I'd say mid 80's."

"Same MO?"

"Yep. Holes and all."

"Ok, Sammy, you stay put. I'll be there in a minute, keep your eyes peeled." Dean was slipping on his worn leather jacket. Adrenaline starting to sober him up. He would be sure to grab a coffee later.

"Remember, kiddo, that thing might still be lurking around in there." Sam could hear Dean rustling around to find his shoes on the other end of the line. Sam carefully took in his surroundings, out of instinct, feeling again as if he were being watched. The library grew quieter still, until the silence was deafening. Another rustle in the corner broke the silence nearly making Sam jump out of his skin. He stepped quietly, willing himself to breath evenly and softly.

Dean's voice on the other end of the line startled Sam again, who nearly dropped his phone. "I think I figured out what our wee beastie is, Sammy."

"Dean…" Sam whispered, hearing the sound growing closer. The rustling was increasing in volume, and heavy breathing that was not his own seemed to be coming closer. Sam felt his pockets for extra clips. This was gonna be bloody.

"Yah, I think it's an Aswang, some creature from the Philippines. I was rooting through Dad's journal and it seems that he hunted one a few years back in Southern California. It prefers to prey on the elderly, but it will attack an individual. I guess it likes 'em ripe, huh there, Sammy?"

"Dean…" Sam was backing away from the corner now; the rustling had turned into a thumping and slithering sound, like something dragging itself across the floor towards him.

"They eat people's hearts and livers with this probe-thingy that's like their tongue. Sounds nasty right? Ha-ha, and a little bit naughty, if I say so myself." Dean's mind was too busy coming up with innuendos, and he didn't hear the tense atmosphere radiating from the receiver.

Sam stared wide eyed now, as the creature rose off the floor. Its yellow and red eyes connected with his own. The monster looked almost humanoid, with oversized limbs like tree branches - gnarled and knotted. Its face was distorted into wrinkles and scars. Its spine grew outside its body, vertebra making sickeningly moist, crunching sounds as the creature breathed, its chest rising and falling. The blood openly flowed from its mouth, leaving puddles of fluid on the floor next to its clawed feet.

Sam didn't move, didn't breathe, hoping it wouldn't notice him any more than it had.

No such Luck.

But of course, he told himself. I wouldn't be a Winchester if I didn't have Winchester luck, now would I? Sam grimaced.

The creature let out a gargled scream, high pitched and bloodcurdling, like tires squealing on wet asphalt. It began to move towards Sam with incredible speed, despite its awkward and deformed body. "DEAN!" Sam yelled into the phone now, sprinting back towards the door. The creature made a swipe at his long legs, nearly tripping him. The cell flew from his hands and landed twenty feet away in the midst of the Horror/Mystery section. Sam would have laughed at the irony if he hadn't been running for his life. The creature released another battle cry and lunged again, this time missing. Sam lunged for the Blackberry, rolling sideways to avoid being crushed by one monstrously large foot. He reached for the phone, which now rested precariously on top of the Nancy Drew collection. "Dean! Get your ass here NOW!" Sam yelled frantically.

Dean heard it all through the receiver. "SAM?" he cried into the phone, sprinting out of the room without bothering to lock it. He could make out loud, crashing sounds - his brother struggling to run, to fight. His mouth went dry and his heart sped up. Dean could almost hear his father's voice in his head, reminding him of his most important job.

I must protect Sammy. I must protect Sammy.

Dean sprinted out to the car and started her up. He pulled out of the motel lot with enough force to crash through a brick building.

I must protect Sammy. I must protect Sammy.

"I'm coming Sammy!" he yelled into the phone, not even knowing if Sam was on the other line. His free hand was on the wheel of the Impala, which was pushing 90 as it screeched to a halt in front of the library. Sam was still yelling expletives through the phone as Dean burst through the heavy maple door. "Sam!" he yelled. Following the commotion, Dean raced to what looked to be the children's section. He heard Sam's gun go off, two consecutive shots. Panic welled up in Dean as he rounded the corner.

Almost there Sammy, I'm almost there.

Dean has his gun drawn, ready to join the fight.

But Dean stopped dead in his tracks when he heard Sam cry out in agonizing pain, a gut-wrenching yell followed by complete and utter silence.

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Please Review! As I said, this is my first one! I need feedback! Tell me how to make it better! If you review, I will send you a complimentary DEAN WINCHESTER in the mail! Complete with a sweet jacket and a bad ass attitude! Call now and get a complimentary box of cookies, hand delivered by our man in leather ;)!