"I'm telling you, Sammy, you are being ridiculous."

Through the empty road of the seventy sixth motorway moved an old car. Much older than the people within it. It was a Chevrolet Impala, a perfection made on the line at the plant in Janesville, or at least its owner said so before he sold it to that one guy in 1973. No one gave a damn about it, because it wasn't the first one in this very line, but that fact was of little concern to its current owner. The black, glistening in its cleanliness, car rode on the surprisingly empty road under the very heavy rain. And they had promised a clean sky in Illinois, now try to regain the trust of the poor audience.

The one who stated his opinion about his brother's assumptions was also the one driving the car. He had green eyes, light freckles on his face and short-cropped Ivy-league hair that was dark blonde. He was 6'1 feet, making him shorter than his younger brother sitting by his right side. He could also bolster with his obvious physical strength. The guy wore a plaid shirt over a T-shirt, jeans, and boots, along with a leather jacket.

"I don't think so, Dean," His brother said, unfolding the map and switching on the torchlight. "This line of murders is pretty straightforward. It has happened before."

Sam had shaggy brown hair. His eyes were light green, sometimes they appeared brown, though, the light was a tricky thing like that. Sam was very tall, 6'5 feet, having a muscular build with broad shoulders and a muscular chest. He was now wearing a jacket, too, because it was the late autumn. Yes, you could save the world from Lucifer himself, but the cold could catch you just as easily. The jacket was over a sweatshirt, which in turn was over a T-shirt. It was hot, yes, but it was a simple precaution in case they had to go outside and quick. Because was it cold, oof.

"These murders can be just a series of different deaths. And we are passing the towns just like that," Dean complained, briefly glancing at his brother and off the road.

"I wouldn't say so...the deaths are all the same everywhere. And nothing has happened there after these single occasions. Just like that. A serial killer or a serious gang lord just dies because someone has decided to have a diner."

"Okay, genius," Dean tapped on the wheel. "What are your ideas?"

"I would suspect vampires or a single vampire. The bites are the same, plus," he took out something and it glistened in the light of the passing lantern. "A tooth we are too familiar with."

"And you are telling me this only now? Sammy, you hurt my feelings. First the shitty morning pie now this!"

"Hey, it's not my fault they make bad pies there."

"It's called 'Nasty Burger', Sam. Alright, we will forget this, but my stomach will not. Oh, no, sir, we ARE going to have to stop at one mom..."

Dean abruptly stopped the car, making Sam fall forward, along with the maps and the evening coffee. He then looked down.

"If you spilled something on my Baby..."

"Thanks, Dean," Sam smiled, getting in the sitting position again. "I'm alright. What happened?"

"Oh, you are fine. I think I saw something. Weird, blue and overweight."

His brother only raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I know how it sounds. Hey, look, it's still there!"

Dean pointed outside and Sam looked there, too. Indeed, there was a small blue dot on the distance. It was floating without any pattern, which completely dispersed any theory about its natural behavior. Looking at each other, the young men nodded to each other, before the older one pressed the gas and the car rolled forward, right after it, but at the same time kept a considerable distance. Whatever the thing was, it certainly had a direction. The Impala turned off the wide road, now using a narrow, old path. It was becoming complicated to see the light over the tops of the pine trees. The brothers kept growing confused as to what that thing was, but then it vanished just like that.

The last town they visited got to be the weirdest one, and now there was a living testament of this fact. Amity Park was an ironic name for the town attacked by ghosts or whatever these things were. It was also not to be mistaken for another town with a similar name and just as freaky legend. The townsfolk of Amity Park was very suspicious of the strangers, but also eager to sell ghost-related merchandise. Unfortunately, it had been a quiet week in the town, not a single attack for the brothers to check. They had deemed all of this a nonsense, but Winchesters knew better than brush off any ideas quickly. Now, they might have got something of the sort.

Another thing which made the brothers, especially Sam, wonder is the behavior of the people. Yes, they lived their lives, but all the while seeming...sheltered maybe? They were friendly, yes, but still there doubts as to why the brothers had decided to come to this ghost town. The most noted ghost, as the younger brother decided to look into this deeper, was someone named Phantom. Peculiar name for a ghost, it's like naming a boy Guy...alright, so that was probably something akin to this. He was described as a teenage boy, poor lad, died at the young age. But...all the images were missing, deleted from all sorts of devices and newspapers. What a way to add to the oddity of all.

And the road ended just there, only the narrow path was left. Obviously there was no choice but to go on feet.

The brothers exited the car and went around it. Opening the trunk, they saw the whole arsenal of weapons of all sorts against the vile fiends of all kinds. The question was, which ones to take? That thing was of unknown origin, so better prepare something universal. For instance, silver and iron were utilized in many cases. Salt as well, spirits and the likes hated the condiment. It was taken in the form of the filling for the bullets and just in a big bag. Everything was stuffed within the backpacks. Two brothers then set off into the dark forest path, their shotguns on the ready.

"Let me get this straight," Sam began. "We are going into the unknown just because you saw...something?"

"Hey, you just led us god knows where because of one vampire. It wasn't something. It was probably a ghost. Human by the looks, but glowing. And flying."

"Then there is even less point in going there without any plan. We are not going to kill it without burning the bones, you know that."

"We are just looking this up first, Sammy. We have to know if it really was the ghost."

Then they came to a stop. There was a very old, rundown building, a factory from the seems.

"Why do they never choose beaches?" Dean complained quietly as they kept going. The dry grass rustled beneath their feet. "A beach, with busty girls."

"Dean, look," Sam pointed at the distant end of the factory. There was light in the windows.

"Since when do ghosts need it?"

"They don't, hurry!"

The hunters trotted through the hole in the metal fence and kept going. Careful, so as not to provoke anyone inside. It was obviously a factory which used to produce boxes. Because hey, they had to have come from somewhere. Or did you think that they appear out of nowhere? There were a lot of boxes around, broken or torn apart. Metal boxes had survived, but were covered in rust. Strangely, the surviving boxes were perfectly organized and stashed outside. Finally, going through the opened garage, the brothers went inside. It was weird how even the trucks were abandoned here. After all, they could have been used for a multitude of other things.

On the inside the factory was just as pretty as on the outside. A lot of rusty equipment, dusty halls that the janitors were yet to grace with their presence. Everything was quiet. Dean held a pistol with both of his hands, leaving his brother to carry the torchlight and a pistol of his own. They went silently, carefully trying to avoid anything which could cause this same noise. Then, they heard a loud pained scream. It was an additional stimulus to move their asses quicker. The brothers finally sneaked inside the warehouse. It was perfect for hiding. Hiding behind the towers of boxes. They stood in a perfect balance.

"You are not getting anything from me," the brothers heard a pant. The voice was middle aged and raspy, yet very mocking.

Winchesters peeked around the corner and their eyes widened in surprise. So, what were they seeing? Firstly their eyes darted towards the chair. A person was chained to it, bound by legs and arms. His face was covered in blood, it was drying on the man's short auburn beard, there was a black eye. His hair was dirty, muddy and messy. The jacket and the jeans were torn apart, you would have thought that he was dead, but no, the person was breathing. Winchesters were about to go to the rescue, but another voice interrupted them.

"Cry no matter how loud, none of your friends will hear. Thanks to our generous host."

The voice, on the other hand, was very young and full of energy. And dry sarcasm. Soon another guy emerged from behind the boxes. He was young, too young, about eighteen or so. But he was fairly tall, almost rivaling Sam both in size and the broadness. The guy had pitch black hair, very messy ones. His skin was pale, but nothing supernatural in this department. The boy was dressed simply: a white T-shirt with a red circle in the middle, a pair of jeans and the sneakers. Over it was a dark jacket. His eyes were the most striking feature, they were the most brightest tint of blue imaginable. Sam and Dean assumed one thing first — the boy was possessed.

"Oh, I'm not calling for help, I'm just trying to get this message through your thick skull."

The boy huffed and took out a knife. The guy looked at it warily. "All of you are so predictable. And to think that we are not so different in nature...Now, I shall be very brief. What are you doing in MY town?"

The captor moved a chair closer to him, with its back turned forward, at the captive. Then the boy sat on it, the knife was twirled between his fingers. Obviously he was not in any hurry. A smile crossed his young features, yet there was nothing malicious. The knife was tossed on the ground between them, much to everyone's surprise, even the Winchesters'. Sam looked at Dean in question, but his brother only moved closer to the two.

"What's the meaning of this?" The captive asked.

"Let's call it a white pigeon of peace. So...I wait for the response."

"What makes this YOUR town?"

"Hm, let's see here..."

The guy dug in the inner pocket of the jacket and somehow took out a scroll and unrolled it. It was...longer than anyone expected.

"Ah, yes, Amity Park belongs to me rightfully. Not a single demon may set their feet here. See, Azazel signed this baby," he tapped on the piece of parchment, "So hush."

Both Winchesters froze. This demon knew Azazel personally. To say that the brothers had a history with that yellow-eyed bastard would be an understatement. And the former King of Hell had died by Dean's hand. Another issue was that the demons, at least not to the brothers' memory, never made deals with other demons, what was there to say about those with the lower-ranking ones. In the 'survival of the fittest' mentality of Hell this was a very strict thing. It was infuriating how these beasts split the world like a huge pie. Probably this very thing was at fault for the people's misery in the town. It had to stop, both Winchesters thought. And Dean took out the knife.

"Now, there is one thing I want to know. Why do you hunt my girlfriend?" The demon asked.

Silence set in the room, before the captive burst laughing so loud that the boxes shook.

"That blood-sucking witch is your girlfriend? Oh, now that's a couple made in heaven. Oh, wait..."

The demon narrowed his, or probably the boy's eyes and made a pinching motion with his fingers. The mouth was shut.

"You done? You are still breathing because I let you to. These wounds wouldn't have come if you just stayed away from my gf. You are lucky that demons taste disgusting to her."

The captive briefly looked to the side and saw two hunters approaching them. His attention was then immediately turned to his captor.

"Look how merciful he is, can't even butcher someone properly!" The man laughed. "Crowley is gonna get ya for such softness."

"Please enlighten me," the demon asked sarcastically. "Who the heck is this guy? Your Mommy? Never heard of him."

"You know, a Crossroad Demon. He is know in charge, or have you been living under a rock?"

"I'm above these pesky games downstairs. All I want is for this town to remain untouched. Am I asking for a lot?!" He shouted. "I am neutral, and such things have a price. A price Azazel was eager to pay. Are you going to introduce yourselves, gentlemen?"

Both Winchesters froze at hearing this. The demon got up and turned around. His eyes sparkled, but did not turn black, red or, heaven forbid, white. He smiled at seeing their faces, before raising his hands.

"Ah, you must be Winchesters. Yes, the description was very accurate. Let's stop before we all regret this."

"You untie this guy right now," Dean demanded. "Or else..."

"You found my weakness. It's small knives! Please, not the knives!"

The knife flew from Dean's hand flew through the entire huge hall.

"Have you really just quoted Spider-Man?" The older brother asked incredulously.

"What? I liked that movie," the boy shrugged. "But my date was suddenly interrupted. By the likes of him. Last time it ended with me signing the deal."

"Yellow-eyed demon, right?" Sam put in, although his gun was still in his hands. "What did you give him in exchange?"

"That's the point. Nothing. He wanted me to do the whole nothing, kiddo," the demon shrugged. "Although you are probably older, so that's not the problem. Jeez, Danny-boy, you are stupid," he laughed, patting himself on the head.

"Who is Danny?" Sam asked, fearing the worst.

"The one standing before you. Bingo. So, ehm..." Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "Anyways, this is an awkward conversation."

Sam and Dean looked at each other. "May we talk a bit?" They asked. "Privately."

The one whose name was way too usual for a demon shrugged. "Go ahead. I am not going anywhere," he pointed at the stunned captive. "But be warned, I have a very good hearing," the guy laughed.

"Are you just going to leave me?!" The hunter exclaimed.

"Wait just a moment, honey," Danny smiled at him. "We won't continue until they come back."

"Go to hell, asshole," the hunter spewed and missed, the demon was too far.

"And you kiss your unholy matron with these lips?!"

While hearing the two bicker like an old couple, the Winchesters went down the box corridor. Danny looked their way, before a being materialized near him. It was a short, overweight man. He had blue skin and was glowing. The small man was floating on Danny's eye level while wearing the loader's outfit. The demon only nodded to him, before the man vanished.

"Alright, Sammy, what the hell is going on?" Dean whispered.

"I don't know myself. Why would a demon who the yellow-eyed wanted to stay away be so..."

"Peppy? I don't know. But hey, we've met all sorts. Meg, Crowley...Ruby, they all are crazy in their own little ways."

"But have you heard what they said? The wounds are not his doing. And he doesn't seem to want to cause more. We have to learn a bit before we kill him, do you agree?"

"Yeah, let's talk to a demon, it always ends well."

"I'm serious, Dean. He may know something."

"He doesn't even know who Crowley is. What is there to learn? And this town obviously has something wrong about it. We kill him and everything will be rainbows and unicorns."

"I don't think it's that simple. And as the conversation goes..."

Dean got the message, before nodding. The brothers went around the boxes, returning to the spot.

"Be honest, do you have any personal life? Or are you too occupied?" Danny asked, still sitting in front of the captive.

"More so than you, I screwed up a lady just yesterday. And you are making yourself a saint? Your girl obviously looks like you don't give her enough attention."

"Listen up, don't you bring her into this..."

He heard a cough from the side. The boy immediately grinned and got up.

"So, gentlemen, where are we going with this? I would appreciate a bit of assistance."

"Assistance?" Sam's eyes widened.

"Yeah, that bastard just won't crack. And...I admit, torture is not my thing. Certainly not the case for you, Dean, right?"

Dean only stared at the grinning kid. For someone who didn't seem very aware, he was awfully knowledgeable.

"Listen here..." he raised a finger. "I am NOT going to torture some fellow hunter. Certainly not for the likes of you."

Danny seemed amused. He then burst laughing.

"Wait, you think that's a hunter? Looks like appearances may be deceiving, right? Christo!"

The captive's eyes instantly turned black and pupiless, he started to growl. The brothers watched in shock.

"But where is..."

Danny grinned, before picking up a UV lamp from the nearest table. He turned it on, before a pentagram appeared right beneath the chair, seen only under this lamp.

"That's...pretty neat," Dean mumbled.

"Yep. The paint which can only be seen under ultraviolet," Danny kept grinning. "No demon realizes what they are walking into before it's too late," he laughed. "It's my friend's idea, actually. Tucker, you smart and smug bastard."

"Why would you need to capture a demon?" Sam inquired as Danny put the lamp back on the table.

"I'll be brief," the boy replied in almost official manner. The brothers felt shivers, it was way too familiar. "This Crowley fellow is sending his men all along the country, hunting down the monsters for the purpose yet unknown to me. An accent on yet."

"Why would you be concerned?"

"Under normal circumstances I wouldn't have been. But they chose the only vampire that I have promised to protect."

"Say, is this vampire by any chance related to the murders along this motorway?" Sam asked.

"Well...she is an adult girl...But she doesn't kill normally. Come to think of it...poor Sammy, she has not been herself lately."

"Let me guess, strange visions, growing hunger?"

"She hasn't told me anything," Danny blinked. "Then you know it? Why she is behaving like that, why the damn demons hunt her?"

The brothers looked at each other. "Let's...suggest so," Dean began. "Then what?"

"Then I guess I don't need this fella. One second please, we have to send a parcel straight to Hell."

Danny approached the captive. With extreme ease he passed the barrier. That completely erased the notion that the boy was a demon. There really was a misunderstanding, it was a good thing that the policy 'shoot first, ask later' had not been set in motion. Being stabbed with a knife was dangerous not only to the demons. Now, wait a second...

"How did you toss the knife all the way there?" Dean asked as Danny approached the now revealed demon.

The boy grinned once again. "I'm full of talents."

The brothers couldn't see what Danny was doing behind the back of the captive, but the demon screamed in agony, like during the exorcism. But the boy was quiet during the entire process, not a word in latin. The screams kept going for a couple of seconds. Then, his eyes glowed neon green, almost blindingly, and in the mouth, so wide from the screaming, was a metaphorical lighthouse of the same color. The brothers watched this in shock, before the black gust of smoke plummeted out of his mouth. It hit the bounds of its cage, before falling on the ground and dissolving. Danny put his hands on the unconscious man's veins.

"He is still breathing. Help me bandage him," he said, untying the body.

"How did you do that?"

"Exorcism. When I was fourteen, well, let's just say, I discovered a couple of things. From that moment forward my life spiraled down the hellish pit."

'No way,' both brothers thought.

The thought they shared made too much sense to them. And it was even less comfortable. Maybe there was a thing which made the boy similar to Sam of all people. While the two stood in shock, Danny carried the man bridal style and obviously very easily. By looking at the boy, a lot things could be guessed. He was too young and that was horrible. But Danny was extremely good at hiding this, if not for what he said, the brothers would have never guessed. Although, an eighteen years old hunter was an extremely bad sign.

"You coming, guys?" Danny asked, looking back.

Winchesters shook off their stupor and followed the boy. Finally the awkward silence was broken.

"Where are we going?"

"To our Bat-cave, Robin. But come to think of it, it is already overcrowded, don't you think?"

"Yeah, they will soon add Batnephew," Dean snickered, but then coughed upon realizing what predicament they were in. "But seriously, though," he assumed a serious tone.

"Though I am going around the town, I don't usually stay at one place for long. This place here, a couple of other abandoned buildings and warehouses. All are equipped for living."

"And...why not a house?"

"It's expensive," Danny reasoned. "My past house...well, it's a long story. Motels are foul and dirty. And our equipment is kind of...bulky for an apartment. Well, I do have a warm and luxurious home, and there are people who would kindly take me in, but I have to be here. I know you are very eager for answers, and as to why you ended up here, but let's save them for a little more."

The boy pushed the doors open with only his mind and then entered. The brothers only watched in marvel. Sam used to have similar abilities, but no telekinesis or a quick exorcism after Azazel's sudden departure into nothingness. How did the boy retain all of this up to this moment? And why would the Yellow-eyed want for an obviously skillful toy to just sit idly? Maybe the boy knew, but he oddity of all was quite concerning.

Danny meanwhile plumped the unconscious body on the medical table. The entire room was very surprising. First of all, it was clean to perfection, despite the condition of the rest of the factory. Now why the perfectly clean and equipped medical room was here of all places? Danny obviously possessed the money needed. Speaking of, he immediately started giving commands with the voice of someone who knew what he was doing. Sam instantly dug in the said shelf and took the bandages. A bottle of antiseptic flew into his hand on a huge speed.

"So, ehm," Dean began, as Danny was busy fixing up the guy. "Do you realize that by exorcising the guy you will definitely have the attention of the local boss?"

"You mean Crowley?" Danny asked calmly, not diverting his eyes from the body.

"Yes," Sam added. "Albeit he is not as horrible as Lucifer, the guy will want your pelt."

"Ah, yes, the Apocalypse. Death used to complain much about 'Some bratty kid with complexes' controlling him. Damn, he ate all my fries back then. Although he was obviously NOT controlled at the moment."

"You...know Death?"

Who the HELL was that kid?

"Know him? I'm his biggest nuisance. After you two, of course, I have violated the laws of nature only once. And just you wait for what exactly I've done," Danny snickered, before coughing. "Anyways, this fella seems alright," he patted the body. "We should just let him rest. I'll just wait until the others turn up."

"The others?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"That depends," Danny smiled. "It could be my girlfriend, my best friend or someone of the people I assigned to watch over the town and the world. How come I did not hear about the change downstairs?"

"So you are like hunting...advisor or something like Bobby?"

"Like who?" Danny blinked. "Oh, wait, you mean Bobby Singer? Yeah, I recall one of my men telling about this. They met at that house in...was it Michigan? Ah, nevermind. The point is, he almost killed him. But I am not angry, I know it's your job."

"And what is yours?"

"Mine? While being here I help the monsters. You know, not some crazy Windigo, but a stray werewolf who wants to learn to control the urges, or a vampire, the monsters who can be reasoned with. I save them from both the hunters and themselves."

"So that's why you are interested in these disappearances," Sam guessed.

"Bingo. My clients are under attack, so it's my call."

"I doubt that it is a pure altruism," said Dean suspiciously.

"It is not. One sane vampire is hundreds of living humans. Despite my second occupation, I am keen on keeping people alive..."

The doors suddenly started shaking furiously and the boxes floated around, surrounded by blue glow.

"Don't mind him, it's just our resident poltergeist. He is harmless. Boxy, what is it?"

The small blue man appeared again. Dean's eyes widened. So that's whom he saw on the way here!

"I, the great Box Ghost, have come to inform you..."

Everyone heard a snicker. Coming from one particular Winchester. Dean could barely contain laugher. For someone with such name the ghost had the ego of a demon. Danny, surprisingly, smiled too.

"I know, my first reaction was similar. So..."

"As I, the Box Ghost, said before a rude interruption! Your friends have returned here, sir!"

Danny beamed, "Good, tell them where we are," he said, before turning to the brothers. "You are welcome to join the dinner. Tucker should have brought burgers."

Knowing from what place that food must have been, Dean was about to refuse, but Sam beat him to it.

"We would be glad to," the more sociable brother said. Sociable in terms of talking with strangely behaving teens.

Danny beamed again and showed them the way. For a guy who had simply exorcised a demon and bandaged a guy, who knew the monsters like buddies...he was awfully sweet. He reminded the brothers of their friend Garth, just more clean. A very likable character.

As the brothers were about to leave, and Sam was the last, he noticed something. On the body of the unconscious guy or, rather, his nose. Something black tricked down his nose. Sam touched it and then smelled.

Ectoplasm.