Chapter 1: Taken

"Sam, a little help here!" Dean yelled out, holding the vampire's head back at arms length as she bared her sharp teeth and snarled at him. Dean tried to reach the long knife that was just a hairsbreadth away from his fingertips, but he couldn't quite grasp it, and the vampire's strength wasn't waning.

He looked over at Sam, who was battling another vampire, one of the group that had been terrorizing a small town in North Carolina. Sam was moments away from finally decapitating the bastard, and Dean watched as his brother lashed out at the vampire with his weapon and the monster's head toppled listlessly and bloodily to the floor.

The vampire Dean was fighting off heard the thump of her companion's head hit the ground, and she turned around, her blonde curls whipping Dean in the face. "Travis!" she screamed, her teeth retracting back into her gums. "Travis, no!"

Dean took the opportunity to lunge to the side and grab his weapon, and the vampire whipped back around and opened her mouth, hissing as she made for his neck. It was too late for her, though, and soon her head was rolling on the floor next to her supposed lover's.

Dean pushed her body off of his. "I freaking hate vampires," he exclaimed. Sam walked over and helped him to his feet.

"I'm not exactly a fan of them either. At least we finally wasted the rest of this group."

"You're telling me. If we had to spend another day in this dopey little down I'd have gone stir crazy."

Sam grinned as they began to walk out of the abandoned farmhouse the vampire herd had been holed up in. "You passed stir crazy four days ago, Dean."

"Well I say we spend the night, hit up that diner with the hot waitress tomorrow morning, and then get the hell out of Dodge," Dean said as they neared his Impala and he took out his keys.

"Sounds good to me," Sam said, sliding into the passenger seat as Dean cranked the car up. Led Zeppelin's "Black Dog" began to blast through the speakers, and Dean yelled along with it as Sam closed his eyes and tried to rest.

Dean was the first to wake up the next morning. It was bright out, and when Dean turned over to look at the dusty alarm clock supplied by the crappy motel they'd set up camp in he saw that it was nine in the morning, later than they'd slept in during their entire stay in North Carolina. He groaned and rolled over, stretching out his aching muscles. He was getting too old for this. Sure, he was still young and dashing by the standards of the world, but for a hunter, he was starting to feel the repercussions of constantly battling the monsters of the world.

He sat up and cracked his back and watched as Sam rolled over, opening his eyes. "Dude," Sam grumbled, rubbing his face with his hands. "What time is it?"

"Nine," Dean said, grabbing a T-shirt off the ground and throwing it on. "That diner is calling my name, Sammy, so put some pep in that step."

"I think you mean that waitress is calling your name," he groaned, sitting up and cracking his back just as Dean had.

"Call it what you will, we've got to go. I think her shift ends at ten thirty."

Sam groaned and began to get dressed, and forty-five minutes later all of their research, clothes, weapons, and trash had been picked up from the motel and they were ready to clear out.

"You know, Dean," Sam said as they threw their bags into the back of the Impala, "we've stayed in some crappy hotels, but we reached a new low with this place."

"It was practically free," Dean defended.

"Yeah, I know," Sam said, sliding into the passenger seat as Dean made his way into the driver's seat. "But next time I say we take the motel that's ten dollars more a night and gives us running water."

"Look, we'll find a better place tonight and take a decent shower. Until then, stop bitching and let's go get some breakfast."

Sam just gave Dean an annoyed look as they pulled out of the parking spot and made the two minute drive to Deirdre's Diner, a little hole in the wall diner that they had been frequenting for the week and a half they'd been in town. Dean had declared that the diner had the best pancakes in America, but Sam doubted that was a genuine compliment, seeing as he had given it just after the hot waitress had bent down and revealed her cleavage to him.

Inside, Dean and Sam took their usual seat in the back corner of the diner, and Dean eyed the menu. "I'm feeling like I want a celebratory All Star combo," he declared.

"You always feel like that," Sam pointed out.

"Yeah, but today I've got something to back it up with. We just took out a murderous pack of bloodsuckers, Sam. Enjoy it."

At that moment, the waitress came up to the table, her shirt unbuttoned to the point where the top of her leopard print bra was visible. She had glittery eyeshadow and stick straight black hair. "Well, hello again, boys. What will it be this morning?"

Dean shot her his try-hard smile. "I'll have the All Star special, with scrambled eggs and hashbrowns and a coffee."

She wrote it down, grinning. "Hardy breakfast," she noted.

"I'm a hardy man," Dean replied, winking at her.

She grinned slyly and looked at Sam, who had mock-gagged into his hand. "And you?" she asked, a little more coldly. Apparently his gesture had not gone unnoticed.

"I'll just have a coffee," Sam replied.

"I'll have that right out for you guys," she said, quickly walking away.

Dean glared at Sam. "Dude. That was my chance and you chose that moment to fake gag?"

"Pathetic isn't a good look on you," Sam said.

The bell rang signaling someone walking into the diner. Dean glanced up and saw a short, petite teenage girl walking in, her strawberry blonde hair braided into pigtails. He turned his head back to his brother, his interest gone after realizing she was young enough to be his daughter. "Look, I've got a chance of a raw and gritty back alley hookup before we hit the road. Why would you deprive me of this?"

"Look at that waitress, Dean. She's a walking STD."

"That's a little harsh, coming from the man who's banged werewolves and demons."

"Hey!" Sam exclaimed. "A werewolf and a demon. Not plural."

"Look, the fact that you even have to defend yourself is not a good sign. I just want a good, human screw-fest. Is that so wrong?"

There was another chime, and Dean looked over and saw a man walk in. He was tall and buff, with slick blonde hair and a large overcoat. Something about him looked very familiar, but Dean couldn't put his finger on it. Something in the shape of his nose, in the curve of his mouth.

The man turned slightly, and Dean could see a gun clipped to his pants underneath his coat. Immediately, his jokes were thrown aside. "Sam," he said under his breath. "Don't turn around. The man who just walked in is packing."

"What?" Sam asked. "Do we know him?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I feel like I've seen him before."

Suddenly the man pulled out his gun. "Oh, no," Dean muttered.

"Everybody, get down!" the man yelled. Sam whipped his head around and stared at the man. There were a few screams, and a baby started crying. "I said, get down! Heads on the ground!"

Everyone was suddenly down to the ground, except for Dean and Sam. They stood up.

"Hey, man," Dean said, lifting his hands up. "You don't want to do this."

The man grinned. "Mr. Winchester," he said greasily, and he flashed Dean a smile. Suddenly, a pair of vampire fangs slipped out of his gums, and then they quickly slid back in before anyone else could see. Dean suddenly knew where he'd seen the man before. He looked uncannily like the blonde vampire they'd killed the night before, like he could be her father. "You took something of mine."

At the sound of Dean's name, the girl who had walked in earlier lifted up her head from the ground, slowly. She stared at Dean, a look of terror and disbelief in her eyes. Dean looked back, fearing for the lives of everyone in the diner. "You want me? Fine. Just put the gun down and don't hurt anyone here, okay?" Dean said, taking a step forward.

"Dean," Sam said in a low voice. "What are you doing?"

The vampire shook his head. "Sorry, Winchester. You're not what I want right now."

He lunged forward and grabbed the teenage girl off of the ground. She cried out as the man pulled her close against him, the gun pressed against her temple. She was shaking, and her eyes were wide with terror.

Dean took another step forward. "Don't hurt her," he said calmly. "She's just a kid. Put the gun down and take me, okay? Let her be."

"I'll be in touch to let you know where I am," he said, and the girl whimpered as he drew circles on her skin with the tip of the gun. "There, there, sweetheart, there's no need to fear. Unless, of course, you're afraid of agonizing pain. In which case...well, maybe you should fear just a smidge." He smiled, his nose at her neck as he breathed in, and the girl began to shake. Dean felt a rush of anger fly through him. "Now that right there is a sweet smelling girl," he breathed, grinning viciously. "I'll see you around, Winchester. Don't show up, and Sophie here dies."

With that, he grabbed the girl by her hair and, with his gun aimed at her head, dragged her out of the diner.

Everyone began panicking, pulling out their phones and dialing 911, and Sam and Dean quickly slipped out of the diner, looking up and down the street for the vampire and the girl, but they were nowhere to be found.

"Damn it!" Dean yelled.

"We'll find him," Sam said, looking over at his brother. "Tonight. We'll go find him and we'll kill him."

"Sam, that girl's just a kid!"

"We'll save her, Dean. He has no reason to hurt her."

"No? I mean she's his meal of choice, so I can't see any reason that would be a conflict," Dean snapped, turning and walking towards the Impala.

"Dean, just relax for a moment."

"Relax? Sam, he looked like he wanted to torture her. She can't be more than sixteen."

"We'll find her," Sam said as they arrived at the Impala. "But first we need to find out about this vampire. And why the hell he'd take that girl. And how he knew who she was."

"So I guess we need to figure out who she is," Dean said, calming down a little bit as he slid into the driver's seat. "All we've got is a name. Sophie."

"We've got a name and a high school, Dean."

Dean turned towards his brother. "What?"
"Didn't you see her backpack? It said Our Lady of Fatima Catholic High. I'm betting it was her school."

Dean shook his head, giving a slightly victorious smirk. "Sometimes I wonder how I spent years hunting without you and your attention to detail."

"I don't either. You're honestly pathetic without me."

"Whatever. To the library we go," he said, starting the car. "Damn it, I hate it every time I say that."

"Don't stress yourself too much, you know you'll be sleeping most of the time."

"What can I say, you're the nerdy one."

Comment, favorite, follow, and let me know if I should continue and where you'd like to see the story go! ~ Lacey :)