A young man stumbled through the Teterboro airport close to Long Island, New Jersey.

It was early morning. He was tired and wasn't really looking forward to the long flight to Gravity Falls, Oregon, anyway. His red hair was tussled, his blue eyes were dull with morning panic. Had he forgotten something? Was he going to be late? Would he sit next to some jerk?

As he crossed paths with other, hurrying sort of people, he felt his backpack bump someone's head and when he turned to apologize, his shoulder slammed into another man's elbow.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry. I- crap. I'm a mess this morning." He rubbed his eyes, glancing at the man's face to see his expression. He didn't know what to think when he spotted a shockingly maroon red tie, a black briefcase and clothes that simply screamed importance. His head was facing the other direction, however, and only when Red Hair spoke did he address the matter by turning toward the voice.

"It's quite alright." He replied, Scottish accent seeping into the air. People cursed the two out once or twice for standing in the middle of he airport walkway, but the man with the accent seemed to not have a care in the world. Red Hair noticed this and would've appreciated the kind words, had he not registered the insane looking grin spreading across the Scots lips.

"In fact, young man," the Scot added, his wicked smile growing darker and more sinister. He paused to blink. And suddenly his eyes were pitch black, gruesome and horrifyingly psychotic. The black eyed man got too close for comfort; their faces were inches from each other now and Red Hair held back an astonished scream. "Don't mention it."

And then he was gone, spinning on his heel for an unknown destination while Red Hair stood there more disheveled and shocked than before. What in the name of all things holy? He thought, heart pounding. Am I losing it?

Shaking himself loose from his stupor, he shouldered his backpack.

"Right." Red Hair muttered, voice shaky. "Well, that's over. What time-" He lifted his left wrist and glanced at the watches shiny clean surface which read 6:37 A.M. "'Bout half an hour before the plane takes off. I'm good." A sigh of relief escaped his mouth. "Time to use the restroom, I suppose."

Once more he calmed his nerves and searched for a restroom. It wasn't extremely hard to find and he set his bag down and entered. When he left the stall to rinse his hands, he stared at the mirror. "I swear I saw that," he whispered. "I don't know how, what or why, but I did."

He cracked his knuckled, confused.

That's when he saw it in the reflection: behind him, falling from the air vent like a cascade of mist, was an odd substance. Bloody red, nasty stuff. But it didn't fall to the floor as Red Hair watched it, fascinated. No, this mist had a mind of its own. It spun in a circle, then made its way to the man.

"What are you?" He wondered, reaching out to touch it. The red mist shied away, out of range of his touch. "Wait, no, it's okay. I won't hurt you."

The mist shuddered, like it was laughing. Red Hair frowned.

Then it rushed closer, advancing without warning.  A worried breath hitched in Red Hair's throat as it came closer, closer . . . Closer . . . It veered straight into his eyes and the man had no time to react. Moments later, a dark snicker left the man's mouth as he stood to his full height and opened his eyes. They were as blood red as the mist.

"Oh but I will."

-Theme Song-

There.

It was dead. He'd shot it, and it was dead. And then in an instant it was awake somehow; the head snapped up to look him.

The eyes opened, demon black. It smirked. "You can't escape me, Dean." Evil Dean crowed, triumphant. "You're gonna die. And this. This is what you are going to become!"

Dean Winchester woke with a start.

Blue Oyster Cult's: Fire of Unknown Origin sang out from the radio and as Dean rolled over, he saw his brother, Sam, intently focused on his computer like usual. The clock read 8:43 A.M, Tuesday, August 9th.

"So get this," Sam Winchester said and paused, looking up briefly to make eye contact with Dean. Sam's brown hair was combed and his brown eyes were bright, and it seemed that a good night's rest had been bestowed upon him. He wore a green flannel and jeans; a shopping bag leaned against his chair. Apparently the early bird gets the worm. Dean thought, humorously. But was there pie? That was the real question.

As their eyes met, Sam saw the bags under his brother's eyes and inwardly frowned. "Hey, you sleep alright?"

"Hm?" Dean managed, sitting up and reaching for the radio dial. His hair was on point -- though a little ruffled -- and his grey shirt was matted with wrinkles. He shut it off with a click. "Yeah. Never better." The older boy stood, stretched and made his way to the table where Sam sat, pulling up a chair. "Whatcha got there?"

"Alright, so, you've heard of the recent deaths going on everywhere due to 'unknown' causes, correct? Besides the few we've tracked down recently, you know of all the demons and monsters that we have yet to send back to hell and/or kill, right?"

"Sure I have. Sam, we started the frickin' apocalypse for god's sakes."

"Okay, but have you ever heard of Gravity Falls, Oregon?"

At this, Dean's eyebrows knit together. "No, I don't think I have. Why?"

Sam smiled a little, eager to share his findings. "Well I've been doing lots of research on the place; evidently, droves of our paranormal buddies have been taking refuge there. Before and after the apocalypse. A few locals there reported some missing tourists along with other things, like information on a strange curse and bunches of ghosts. Also, earlier in the summer the town was visited by the FBI for unspecified reasons and their newspaper revealed that a kid psychic managed to con the almost all the residents. Stupid people or not, the entire town is full of weird instances. And there's no proof for this, but it's like the place has a magnetic personality for the supernatural."

"You don't think it's anything like that Croatoan incident we had a few years ago, do you? I don't really want a re-do of that." Dean replied, scooting his chair back. He made his way to Sam's side and saw some pictures pulled up on the computer of a gigantic waterfall and an assortment of tourist attractions. He pointed to one in the right corner. "What's this one called? The one with the gigantic sign on the roof?"

"Nah, couldn't be." Then the younger Winchester zoomed in at Dean's request and squinted. "The Mystery Shack, though the 'S' fell off so it's a pain to read. What do you wanna bet that that's the place that draws everything there?"

"After all the Tuesdays you watched me die in that one time, I'll pass."

"Fair enough," Sam agreed, closing his laptop.

After a few moments of quiet rustling through the plastic shopping bag, Dean glanced up. His face was a mixture of confusion, slight disappointment and dissatisfaction. "Dude," he said, voice questioning.

"Where's the pie?"

----

Dean took a deep breath and readjusted his grip on the Impala's steering wheel.

During their eight hour drive, he and Sam had switched places multiple times, had stopped to eat more than once and both had at least two hours of rest apiece. After the previous hunt in Canton, Ohio, both had gotten back some much needed sleep. And this new job looked to be a doozy, but looks always had ways to deceive.

Passing yet again another 'Welcome to Wisconsin, Oregon' sign, Dean groaned. How hadn't other hunters picked up on this spot? Did no one simply give a crap? He certainly didn't mind traveling there, nor did he mind the prospect of taking care of some more monsters, but something was bugging him. Even with a 'paranormal magnet' there, what were they all flocking too? It was a mystery and one the Winchester's intended to solve.

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" Dean exclaimed, faintly slugging his brother in the shoulder. Sam opened his eyes with a grunt, sitting up and peering around outside the window as trees whizzed by.

"Are we-"

"In Oregon. Gravity Falls should be just about half of an hour away."

"Great," Sam replied, more or less sarcastically. He didn't know what to think of the town. He expected quite a few haunts and probably a few more demons. But that was only speculation. They were sure to find something huge. Thing is, Sam wasn't sure he wanted to.

The two had very recently recovered from parting ways, a funny incident, Sam thought, thinking back, after all that had happened since they were kids. When Sam was only six months old, his mother had heard him crying on the baby monitor. Dean himself, only four or five at the time, was in bed, asleep. She'd gone to check in Sam and saw what she thought was her husband, John Winchester, lulling Sammy to sleep. But after a downstairs TV lit the hallways and Mary found in shock, John, and flickering lights, she knew the figure in the room was not John. The entire incident resulted in the death of Mary Winchester and the burning down of their house.

After that, John never stayed in once place for very long. He went hunting and spent many hours of his life dedicated to finding the yellow eyed demon that had killed his wife. The effect of that, however, was that Dean watched his younger brother Sam all the time and they almost never saw their father.

Immediately upon the moment that Sam was able, he left the Winchester family for an attempt to live life away from the hunting style of living. He got a girlfriend and began searching for a proper college. Or, one that he could afford. It was ruined by a midnight visit from his brother, whom he hadn't seen in years.

"Dad went on a hunting trip," Dean Winchester had said, arms crossed, eyes bright, "and he hasn't been home for a few days."

Dean had requested Sam's help to find him and while Sam wanted to decline, he accepted and in the process, the two completed a hunting trip. Upon his return to his dorm, unfortunately, Sam was met with a horrible sight. His girlfriend was dead and the dorm had been set aflame. It was enough to make Sam's blood boil. He joined Dean for the search for their father and for revenge.

Over time they'd managed to die and resurrect several times, kill demons, make enemies, like Lucifer,  and some friends. Among their friends were Bobby Singer, a hunter -- a legend at that -- and Castiel, a freelance angel. Through desperate events and lots of battles, the apocalypse had been set off by Lilith (a powerful demon) and her underlings and now the Winchesters, through think and thin had to stick together.

And now, in the present, Sam realised that they really had come a long way. Maybe it was Gravity Falls that wasn't ready for them instead of the opposite way around.

Moments later, their car, also known as Dean's baby or a black, '67 Impala, pulled up to a dusty, worn out stop sign. "Which direction?" Dean asked, nodding to the left or right option. It was a three way crossroads, right next to a mountainside. Sam startled out of his day-dream.

"One second." He fished out a map and glanced up at the stop sign. "Uh- right."

Just as Dean set his foot on the gas pedal, Sam's arm flew across Dean's chest and the car jerked to a sudden halt. "What the hell, man?" Dean argued. "I'm trying to drive here."

Sam simply pointed as a bus, a local one at that -- the name Speedy Beaver was printed in the side -- sped by, way faster than any bus should've been going in normal circumstances. But that wasn't what had Sam's attention.

A gigantic black cloud, pulsing blue electric energy was speeding right behind the bus, chasing it like a hound on a hunt. It too, disappeared around the bend and was soon out of sight.

"Did you see that kid driving the bus?" Sam wondered, shocked. "He had to be younger than thirteen! What're kids doing, running from a couple of demons?"

"Couple of demons my ass," Dean snapped, once again hitting the pedal. The Impala picked up speed, turning left and the direction of the bus. "That's got to be fifty or sixty as least. A horde of some kind. Let's go save 'em."

Reaching behind the seat, Sam pulled a duffle bag into his lap. "Well, here's some salt . . . Ruby's knife . . . Holy water canteen . . ."

Dean cut him off right there. "Sam, what're suggesting we do?"

"Actually I'm suggesting you do it."

"Do what?"

A shrug. "Something along the lines of: me driving, both of us convincing the kid to open the bus door and you tossing the duffle into the bus and then you jumping along with it."

"Are you crazy?!" At this point, the car had come yards away from the cloud and although Dean hated the idea, he was starting to understand that their options were limited anyway. He continued. "You know I hate heights and anything related to flying, Sam. What would I even jump out of, the door?"

"I was thinking the window would be better."

"Fine. Say I jump out the window-" they passed the cloud, and both glanced at it with a nervous look even though the Impala was demon proofed. "Say I make it. How am I supposed to salt the windows? Do you have a back up plan?"

"Not really." Came his reply. Dean was tempted to curse again, until Sam continued and then he raised an eyebrow. "But I have that one recording from my tape player downloaded onto the MP3 player.

"Think I can use it, just this once?"

-COMMERCIAL BREAK-

The road was bumpy.

Sam struggled with the steering wheel and both fought for space in which to move as the car pulled next to the bus doors.

"Hey!" Dean shouted, rolling down his window. He patted the outside of the car loudly and pointed to the doors to get their attention. Inside the bus, a frightened pair of kids, probably brother and sister, looked his direction. The girl narrowed her eyes at Dean, pointed to the Impala and said something to the boy who hardly glanced at them once because he was so focused on driving.

"They see us?" Sam quizzed his brother.

"Yeah. Don't think they know a word I'm saying, though." He tried again. "HEY! OPEN THE DAMN DOORS!"

In a spilt second, the two in the bus switched places and the boy cranked the handle to open them. Keeping a steady pace, Sam pulled as close as possible to the edge of the doors. Dean threw over the duffle and exhaled dramatically, facing his brother.

"Careful, Sam. Don't make me regret this!" He yelled and Sam gave him a thumbs up, encouragingly.

Leaping across the small but death defying stretch, Dean landed on the bus steps with inches to spare. God, I am not a fan of that. He groaned. Not doing anything related to jumping across roads to busses anytime soon. He felt wind when the doors closed behind him and he looked up at the boy.

The kid had brown hair that stuck out from under his hat, a blue and white cap with a tree in the front, and brown eyes that were wide in an appalled manner, astonishment, and fear. "Wow. That was . . . awesome. Who are you?"

"Could ask you the same thing, kid, with a cloud of demons on your tail." Dean frowned and focused on the boy and then the girl behind him who hadn't so much as said hi. Granted, she was busy. He picked up the green duffle bag and began pulling out bags of salt for the windows when he noticed a man out cold on the floor. He raised his eyebrows and wondered what had taken place but the dark menace behind him required otherwise. "Questions need to wait but I'll tell you three things.

"One, my name's Dean Winchester and two, consider yourself lucky because I've had more than my fair share of fights with this sort. I know how to help you two live another day." Dean looked back, grimacing as the Impala and Sam pulled ahead and then he looked once more to the cloud and tossed one of the smaller bags to the boy.

"Third, we need to get salt on these windows and doors. Now."

The boy nodded vigorously and watched with diligence when Dean showed him the proper way to salt the windows and doors. It went fairly well until the tires hit a large rock and salt spilled from the sills to the seats and floor. "Sorry!" The girl called.

Dean hardly heard her. "Kid, is there anything you have that will keep this stuff on the windows? It's imperative that we seal that cloud out. And this is the only way I know how."

"I don't keep much around but my pen and my uncles' journal but Mabel probably has loads of items in her backpack that'll do the trick." The boy raced to the front of the bus and tapped the girl on the arm. She switched with him again and she ran back to Dean in a flash.

"Mabel Pines, reporting for duty!" She said, saluting. Dean grinned a little.

"Well, Mabel, you have any duct tape?"

She smiled. "You asked the right girl." After a moment of digging through her sack, she triumphantly returned to the Winchester's side with a roll of silver duct tape. The pair ripped off strips and finally began successfully lining the doors and windows with salt. Minutes later, with Mabel's help, they finished and surveyed their handiwork.

"Hi five, kiddo!" Dean said with a laugh. (It was hard not to be enthusiastic around the kid; she radiated excitement). Next, part two of the plan needed to be set in motion. He hoped Sam would turn around soon. "Alright. You can tell your -- brother, is it? -- that he can stop the bus now."

Mabel bopped her brother on the nose. "The man says you can stop the bus, Dippingsause." The kid with the nickname of Dippingsause glanced at her.

"What? No way! That cloud thing-"

Dean interrupted, gesturing ahead to the road and to the salt-layered windows. "It's fine. Ease off the pedal, let it slow and get over here."

The boy gulped, jumped off the seat and ran in Dean's direction. The trio huddled behind a seat as the bus rocked back and forth, slowing down. The real trial was when the cloud roared onto the vehicle and circled around it multiple times, hitting the glass and pounding the metal sides. "If it weren't for the salt would we have been . . . ?" The boy whispered, scared out of his wits.

"Yeah," Dean replied, grimacing. "We would have been screwed." In a rush, the cloud gathered at the top of the Speedy Beaver, as if waiting. "They think we have to come out sometime. They're gonna wait. What they don't know is, my brother has us covered."

"You have a brother too?" The Pines asked, staring at Dean.

"You bet I do."

Suddenly, volume and speakers blaring, the Impala returned to the bus. It parked alongside and sat there, spewing words. But they weren't just any words. It was a specific set of words, in Latin. "Contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomini quem inferi tremunt ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, domine. exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus . . ."

There was a pause. The boy and Mabel frowned, the words unknown to them.

As Sam's recorded voice rang out into the air, the demons stopped, made an angry, dark, hissing noise and beat it, flying in the other direction, hopefully for good. Inside the bus, the man, who'd just woken up, spewed more blackness from his mouth. It rose into the sky and soon became a single speck of coal in the blue.

Rising out of the Impala, Sam grinned and the boy ran to the front of the bus once more to open the doors. Mabel and Dean, taking their time, joined him. After the doors opened, the two kids ran out and hugged him.

"Don't know who you are mister," Mabel said, "but you sure did save our lives!"

He laughed. "I'm used to it, don't worry."

Stepping down the stairs, Dean slapped him on the back. "That was good going. Didn't think we'd pull it off, after being rusty on the last job."

"But here we are," Sam agreed.

It was quiet for several moments, then the boy spoke up, adjusting his hat. "So, who are you, anyways?"

Dean and Sam looked at each other. "I'm Sam Winchester," Sam said. "This is my brother Dean. We've sort of dedicated our lives to saving people-"

"And hunting things," Dean interjected. "Family business."

"Right. We drive places and search for supernatural mysteries which is why we were headed for Gravity Falls. And if you've seen something strange we probably know how to get rid of it. The cloud was one of those things we hunt together. We saw you two running from it and decided to step in."

Mabel looked at her brother. He spoke for the both of them. "Funny you say that. We were just leaving Gravity Falls. We've been there almost all summer -- our uncle runs a tourist attraction there -- and there's plenty of paranormal stuff in that town. I'm Dipper by the way and this is my sister, Mabel."

"We're twins!" Mabel informed the brothers. "I'm older by five minutes!"

Dipper nodded, reluctantly in agreement. "But out of all the stuff we've seen, that was new. And scary, I might add. I can look, but I don't think a black cloud or a man with black eyes is in my uncle Ford's journal. What were those things?"

"Demons," Dean informed the twins. "Nasty creatures from hell. But that's really an explanation for another time. Why don't we get you two somewhere safe . . .Where's the closest place you know of?"

Dipper frowned. "Our Grunkles Shack would be it, but we're supposed to be heading home for California."

"Not anymore you're not." The older Winchester walked around to the car and opened the passenger side, pulling froward the seat for the Pines. "Hop in, kids. Looks like Gravity Falls is going to be seeing you a little longer."

----

Later, quite a while after the sun had set, the Impala appeared near the forest. Driving slowly down the road to the Mystery Shack, Dean parked in front next to a new-ish looking golf cart.

"This it?" He asked Sam and the twins. All three nodded.

"Yep!" Mabel said, hopping out. She'd remembered her and her brother's luggage, so Sam stepped out and pulled the bags from the trunk while Dean went around to the other side and reached for a box.

As Sam handed back the suitcases and the kids dumped them on the porch, Dean held up his prize. "Anyone up for some pie? It's Apple." He called, holding the box open and tugging out his pocket knife to cut it with. Dipper and Mabel smiled.

"Yeah!" Mabel exclaimed.

"Like cake but better," Dipper decided as the pie was passed out with some plastic forks. "Thanks, Dean. Thanks, Sam."

Dean grinned. "No problem." Moving away from the twins a few feet, Dean nudged Sam. "I got some pie at our last stop when you were asleep."

"I noticed," Sam responded, chuckling. Dean stopped eating momentarily.

"Bitch," he said, mouth full of pie.

"Jerk."

-CREDITS-

____________________________________________________________
A/N:

I told you.

I friggin' told you I would update.

So, whatcha think? Did it start off right? Was the meeting and set-up on point like Dean's hair 95% of the time? I hope so. I tried so very hard. But I'm also tired, because it's currently 2:20 A.M. in the morning and I've been writing for almost four and a half hours straight and boy does that take a toll on you the next day. But that's okay, because this son is going to go see Star Wars hopefully and its gonna be a fun time.

Okay, but from here on out there shouldn't be any more spoilers (what may have been spoilers was basically the Pines and Winchesters backgrounds in the chapters before) for those who've never seen GF or SPN from here on out. If there is a spoiler of some kind I apologise but I can promise that if they're there, it will be absolutely essential to the story and plot line. Which is nothing like a salt line, if you're wondering.

And I realise that I didn't put any warning in the last chapter for non-SPN fans but if you didn't know, now you know: there is swearing in SPN. I would be happy to exclude it, but I really want this (and have expressed this before) fanfiction to be as realistic as possible even though it's a crossover. But the Winchester gang won't swear 24/7, I assure you.

Well. Time to wrap this crap up.

{Song of the chapter: The Supernatural Parody by the Hillywood Show. It doesn't really fit the mood but if you're new to SPN it'll give you the basic gist 'cause the Hilly Show does an awesome job.}

If you enjoyed it, can't wait for more or want some pie like me, please vote, comment or share! All over again it's greatly appreciated and I love getting comments and votes because then I know that people enjoy this thing, y'know? And that's . . . that's always good . . . especially when you haven't slept and you should be sleeping. And my night isn't over, haha. Hmm.

Let's go kill some evil jerks, shall we?
Styx