Rewrite Of Supernatural Series: Season 1

Salvation - Part 1.

'This is a bad idea,' you hissed.

'You do run point on those,' Dean mumbled. You swatted his arm in retaliation. Nevertheless, you both crouched against the dirty, unhygienic wall.

'Dad told us to wait by the car,' you reminded him.

'We heard a scream.'

'Of the monster because our Dads are awesome.'

He rolled his eyes and veered them to peek around the corner. You both had climbed up to the upper level of the abandoned factory. The shitshow had went on downstairs, and Dean swore the scream he heard was of your father's.

That was plausible for more than one reason than your parents' asses being beat up - this was a shapeshifter case, so of course there was a good chance that it was a monster in disguise who screamed.

'They would've called for backup if they needed it,' you tried again.

'Uncle Jonas is unconscious,' Dean reported. 'At least I think that's him.'

Your gulped, braving your fear. This was part of the job, you knew. You couldn't let your fears interfere with the job. If you let the fear take over, not only would you risk your own life, but probably others' as well. As a hunter, it was necessary to lock up your emotions in that tiny box in the corner.

Usually, you were more worried about the monsters. But Dean's instincts were often astute, and despite orders, he was the only reason you trailed after him here.

Cracking up a plan because Dean wouldn't budge about heading back, you both decided to split. You were on evacuation duty while Dean went after his father. He had a clear shot with an element of surprise. Clearing the scene, you climbed down in silence. While Dean went to the right because he told you he'd seen his Dad run in that direction earlier.

After begging him to be careful, you ran the last stretch towards your father, your fingers flying to check his pulse which was thrumming strong under your fingers. You then placed a silver blade against his skin to confirm that he wasn't a shapeshifter.

Letting out a subtle breath when his body didn't react negatively, you checked him for fatal wounds. You were inspecting him a second and last time, before would carry him out with difficulty, when his eyes fluttered open.

'Heldshah Calamson,' your Dad said.

Your brows furrowed. 'What? Dad, did you bite your tongue? Are you okay?'

A smile unfurled on his face. 'I thought I told you to wait by the car.'

'I'm so sorry.' You caught him by his shoulder. 'Come on, I'll drop you outside. Dean has gone to help Uncle - I should be there.'

Shots were fired overhead, and it fueled your urgency.

He easily rose himself. You noticed his gun had skirted to the sidelines of the room. You unwound yourself, and hurried for the weapon. 'Can you walk?' you asked over your shoulder. 'I couldn't see any visible wounds. Is anything sprained or broken?'

When you turned, your breath hitched. A long silver blade was now perched at the joining of your neck and shoulders. Your hands raised in surrender on reflex.

'Shapeshifter. B-But I checked you!'

'There are three of them,' he said. 'Two dead. All of them looking like your father.'

'The third one's you.'

'No,' he smirked. 'I'm just here to see you.'

'What are you?' you leaned your head away from the cold touch of the metal, but played it off as overconfident tilt. 'You know what, doesn't matter,' you said before he could answer. 'Dead meat sounds about right, don't you think?'