Soul Hunting

Abby Ebon

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Note; Yes, you've read that summary right, there is nothing wrong with your eyes. This is indeed a Supernatural/ The Host crossover, maybe the first of it's kind. Why am I writing this? Well, firstly, I recently read The Host and then quite naturally went snooping about for the fandom sites. Obviously I stumbled over the knowledge that, yes, there will be a movie follow-up to The Host book, and apparently there are two sequels on the way, The Soul and The Seeker – but, more importantly to the concept of this story, I stumbled over fan-made movie posters, guess what I found?

http : / / images2 .fanpop. com / image / photos / 11300000 / Host-Posters-the-host- 11303617-500-680 . jpg

Sammy and Dean…with Mel? Was my first thought.

Once I saw that image, I just couldn't forget it, because it had set me laughing my head right off, so I waved bye to my sanity and scribbled something up. You may think of this 'Alternate Universe' as a sort of 'if the Host had invaded Supernatural (before Supernatural started?)…' to start with, because it's really a 'before the Host'...

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Sam might not have noticed it even starting if he hadn't been at college. If he'd thought about alien invasions at all in those days, it was remembering the late night bad b-flicks with Dean when they were kids. Those had been almost home-like memories, good ones. Sam begrudged that those memories were now tainted with the truth. Aliens were real, but they'd snuck onto Earth, unlike in the movies, aliens they weren't loudly announcing their presence – in fact, unless you knew how to look for it, you just…just wouldn't know.

They wouldn't even suspect, in the end – the normal people were being all but quietly conquered, but Sam? Sam had been trained to notice the little differences between what was human, and what was clearly…not; he'd been trained, too, to fight back. It spooked him, Sam could admit it, to see students – people he knew – going into parties unsuspecting and coming out, not right.

It wasn't obvious, really, just something that made Sam take a second look once in a while – otherwise, well, otherwise it was easy to ignore, to dismiss. Half the time Sam thought he was just imagining it, because other then the people themselves acting off, there were no other signs.

He couldn't keep his mouth shut and pretend it wasn't happening, when something was – Sam wasn't that sort of person. He'd have to find out; have to do what he could to help. Sam just dreaded finding out what sort of monster was walking around the college, dressed up in human meat suits.

Paranormal happenings lift clues on the environment, like scars, nature silently protesting the wrongness of monsters.

Sam was too busy looking for those clues, and not finding them, to think of anything else out there, stranger still then home-grown supernatural monsters. Hunting took a single minded intensity, almost obsession, that Sam simply didn't have time to look around at the people and think something so bizarre like 'aliens are invading earth' – no, Sam wasn't that sort of crazy.

It was when Jess went to one of those parties (some sort of study session club Jess had argued at the time) – and nothing he could say could change her mind – that Sam gritted his teeth and followed. He knew how vulnerable he was, going in with her, not knowing a damn thing about the sort of monsters he was facing. Worse, he was alone – there would be no back-up. In a way, Sam was glad he'd been so stupid, because otherwise Sam would never have figured it out.

His plan had been to tag along with Jess, use that as an excuse to snoop – and then, then get the hell out. Hopefully after uncovering a damned hidden in-front-of-your-face clue, or sign, to what the hell Sam should be prepared for while hunting. Because it was bad enough there were monsters, worse still would be calling in Dad and Dean with empty handed information. Sam was good at following the clues to a logical conclusion, that he couldn't – in this case –was bothering the hell out of him.

Sam had never hunted alone, or been 'bait' without back-up, and maybe getting this information was risky, but it was important that Dad and Dean see that he had something here. He used that as an excuse if he felt guilty or overly nervous. He was, after all, giving up the freedom of schooling.

"Welcome, would you like something to drink – a snack?" Sam jerked his head up at the softly spoken words, he hadn't heard the door hinges protest as they'd opened, but maybe that was because he's guts felt twisted in knots. Jess had an answering smile; even as she started to speak she was honestly pleased to be here. Sam couldn't say the same.

"Oh, no, we ate before we came over; have you started already?" The woman shook her head, smiling, as she stepped aside for Jess and Sam. He'd done his research – thoroughly – her name was Elaina Yolen, she and her husband Ray had lived here most of their lives, their daughter Helen went to school with them, she'd been born here. There shouldn't be any monsters trying to get them, it'd be too noticeable. Yet something had happened to them – was happening to them, Sam just didn't know what yet.

"No, no, you're right on time." Jess was swiftly reassured, as they were led to the living room. Sam glimpsed books in the next room, and wondered what kinds of books those were as he tightened his grip on his book bag. He at least wanted to blend in with the goings on, though he knew he'd get no studying done tonight.

Once they were settled into the living room, Sam was relived and dismayed to see they weren't alone with the family. Six others were already bent over their work or chattering about some problem amiably. The relaxed air didn't go tensely quiet at their entrance as Sam half expected, one or two looked up and Jess was waved over to a friend of hers, Sam at her heels.

"I'm so glad you made it, Jess." Wynne bounced in her seat, scooting over to make room for Jess as she got out her things and set them out on the table. It was peaceful here, nice even, some other time Sam wouldn't have minded just studying. He found himself fidgeting, unable to keep still.

He felt exposed and examined, it'd started as a tingling at the back of his neck, but now he was sure of it. Sam looked around, but no one was watching him. He tried to shove the feeling aside, feeling foolish for suspecting these people, thinking he had it wrong after all, he was only paranoid about nice people. It wasn't a good insight, that he expected people to be...well, not too nice.

"Sam, why don't you come with me? It looks like you're having problems concentrating with your math; maybe another room would make you more comfortable?" Elaina suggested softly, Sam looked up – sure a blush was on his cheeks, to find Jess smirking smugly at him. Elaina's concerned tones were bringing Jess's point across, what nice people the Yolen's were, opening their home to students struggling to find safe study place, but Sam was suspicious all over again.

Without a word he picked up his things, knowing this was his chance to find something without being watched. Or they were going to attack him once he was alone, and find themselves surprised by how badly they'd misjudged him. Sam relaxed a little, seeing that the den of books wasn't entirely unoccupied, another student studied there, head bent over a history text.

Nothing else happened, until Sam went home with Jess, turned off the apartment lights and saw her eyes gleaming with a metallic ring around the iris because of reflected light from a street lamp outside. He knew then that something had happened, though he didn't know what, he could guess. They'd separated them without Sam so much as protesting, and then with Jess alone…Sam felt sick, as he lay in bed.

Jess, but not-Jess, slept on beside him obvious. Her neck turned, and Sam saw the scar that was dangerously close to the brain – it certainly had never been there before, it should have been fresh, but it was healed over. Sam crept out the bed, leaving Jess sleeping on unaware. He felt like a sneak in his own home, a betrayer, as he went for his phone, Dad's number – and Dean's – dancing in front of his eyes. He dialed without thinking, and on the first ring, Dean picked up.

"Dad…?" It was Dean's number, and Sam was puzzled – shouldn't Dad be with Dean?

"Huh, no, it's…it's me." Sam felt awkward, and with Dean it was new. What else would Sam expect though? He'd walked out.

"Sammy? Hey! How's it going?" Dean was enthusiastic, clearly willing to put everything on hold right then, and forget everything that had happened, if it meant Sam was…back.

"It's, uh, not good Dean. I think something's happening here, it's just people are being strange – nice, but strange – and tonight I went to this study group with Jess and when we came back, I saw these weird metallic rings around the iris." Sam scrambled to explain, to prove to Dean he wasn't imagining things, proving it to himself as much as Dean. If he didn't tell Dean that Jess was a girl, when the name could be a guys – it was just as well to save time.

"What are the other signs?" Dean sounded single-minded, as if he'd already accepted the hunt, sunk under the mind-set; as if Dean was taking orders a lot more with Dad. Sam felt sick at the thought. He'd always hated how Dean was used by Dad.

"There aren't any." Sam whispered into the phone, wondering if Dean would laugh it off and tell him he was only being paranoid. His heart ached and pounded, waiting, he'd convince Dean somehow – he had to, Sam didn't want to be all alone here.

"I'm on my way." Dean didn't need any convincing, trusting wholeheartedly Sam's instincts when Sam himself had doubted. There was a relief in that knowledge, but Dean still didn't say good-byes, the click on the phone the only hint that Dean had hung up. Sam shook his head amused by the little habits his brother hadn't changed – might never change. It was more reassuring then Sam could ever explain to himself, let alone to Dean.

Sam slipped silently back into the room he shared – had shared – with Jess. As whatever or whoever was sleeping in that bed, wasn't Jess now. He'd packed a hunters kit and tucked it in the closet when he'd noticed things being …off with people, too kind, too forgiving to survive on this world.

"Sam?" He stiffened in dread, hearing the whispered words, and turned to the bed. Alien eyes with metallic silver rings peered back at him from a familiar face. "What are you doing?"

"Jess…I'm going to get help for you, okay? You're…you're not yourself." Sam said in a rush, quick to back out toward the door, keeping Jess in sight as he walked away backwards.

"Sam? What are you doing – where are you going?" She looked confused and hurt, that lost expression pained him, even as Sam - not answering, shut the door between them, locking it from the outside because this was an old house turned into an apartment and had such oddities. Sam had to chance that whatever was possessing Jess might go out the bedroom window – but it wasn't likely, they were three floors up and there wasn't a fire-escape outside the bedroom window.

Sam headed for the fire-escape, in the kitchen was a door that led to a storage area and outside was the balcony and then the fire-escape down to the street. He'd call Dean again and tell him where to pick him up at, naturally, it was a bar. Dean would be there by morning, and all Sam had to do was wait it out in an all-night bar. It should have been simple.

Sam suspected nothing until he tried to pay for his drink.

"It's free, sir." Sam raised an eyebrow as the bar tender pushed the money away with a grimace and a wary look. Sam didn't understand it until he realized everyone in the bar was eyeing him as if he might bite. It was chilling, but Sam didn't quite catch on that he was in trouble until a car pulled up and Sam looked out the window, hoping it was Dean, and then back at the people.

Every single one of them had a ring of reflected silver in their eyes. It was heart-pounding, eerie like how cat eyes reflected light, but…but not.

"What are you?" Sam asked hoarsely, because it was clear that they weren't normal – and theyknew he wasn't one of them. His question seemed to puzzle them, they were thinking about what to tell him, as if they'd never been asked before what to call themselves.

"Souls, we are…lost souls." A woman found an answer, her features reflective and peaceful. There were soft murmurs of agreement, of praise. None of them argued with the comparison, not a one of them frowned in disagreement.

"So you aren't from around here, is what you're saying." Sam eyed the door, they were peaceful so far, but they weren't getting out of his way either, passively standing in his way. He wondered what they would do if he forced his way – it was better not to find out just yet, better to wait and find out what he could while he was here and they were talking.

"We have only recently migrated to this planet." The last two words caught in a loop in Sam's head, repeating over and over, this planet. The bar door opened, it wasn't Dean. It was…the police? Sam took a startled step back, making him look even guiltier when no one else moved, the rest were unsurprised. It was clear that they had been waiting for…the law, but it seemed so impossible.

"You're going to have to come with us to the station." The nametag said 'Grayson' but the silver ring in his eyes said not human.

"I don't think so." His voice sounds strained, fear turning the words into a snarl – a growl of defiance. Around him aliens wearing the faces of people shuffle nervously away. There is no such hesitation in the eyes of the two aliens wearing the bodies of officers Grayson and Keyes.

Another car is pulling up, and Sam preys, because he has never been so glad to recognize the Impala on sight. Headlights pierce the windows, and again all the aliens look toward the light as if they can't help themselves. Sam can only imagine what Dean sees, human shapes and alien eyes – and Sam, of course. Sam surrounded.

Dean doesn't stop in the parking lot; he slams on the gas and goes right on through the wall. Sam almost laughs at the wide eyed expressions, their shock so thick in the air Sam doesn't think they can fake it. Dean opens the passenger door, and the muzzle of a sawed-off shotgun is the first thing Sam sees. It's a daunting, if welcome, sight.

"Get in, Sam – the rest of you, whatever-you-are, get the hell away from my little brother." Sam obeys, and frowning the bar attending aliens shuffle further away while not-Grayson and not-Keyes step between the brothers and the other not-humans, it's a clear message, to get to those behind them Dean is going to have to kill. Dean doesn't see it, but Sam does and more importantly – Sam understands even as he obeys Dean and gets in the Impala.

Dean reverses, after handing Sam the sawed-off, and kicks up dust as he spins out of the drive way. The silence only lasts until the bar winks out of sight in the rear-view mirror.

"Want to tell me what's going on, Sammy?" Dean asks softly, his voice giving way his fear for Sam.

"Aliens…." Sam says dead serious, it sounds stiff somehow – stupid, and he's half expecting Dean to laugh it off, but Dean only glances at him as if to reassure himself that Sam is still sitting there, and nods thoughtfully.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Note; I kind-of hate myself for this one; it makes me laugh too much for me to ever take it too seriously. Which is good, and bad...the bad?

"Aliens" -Sam (dead serious)

"Seriously, Sammy?" - Dean (rolling eyes, big brother is oh-so-mature-to-how-the-world-works)

"What?" -Sam (wide eyed it-could-happen)

"College rots your brains, huh?" -Dean (amused)

"Dean!" -Sam (annoyed and pouting)