Juvenile

By Javawolf

Author's Note: New characters, some girls but I swear : absolutely Mary-Sue free. The fiction is going to become a lot darker in the next few chapters. I've just consulted with my writing partner, Raven, who's brilliant plot bunnies deserve some credit. .:applause, applause:.

Also, by dark I mean I'm taking advantage of my T rating here, so be warned. Language, violence, sex and drug use. The whole enchilada. And I mean really dark. I'm a sucker for hurt-Dean, what can I say – I'm a sadist.

Again, please review, I need feedback to function. Raven does too. For us?

The sun was coming up, and Dean seemed to notice for the first time in his life that it had a glittering, purple rim around it. He'd never paid enough attention before, he supposed. It was really pretty... Everything seemed somewhat bent out of proportion, especially the trees.

Their group had moved away from the road for fear of prosecution; those wacked out people who call loitering a crime. Dean laughed in his head at this absurd thought. Loitering... who thought that one up anyway? Like you can arrest someone for standing in the wrong place. In an unconscious act, Dean blew a raspberry at the lightening sky as he lay on his back under the canopy of trees. His new friends didn't notice, as they too were preoccupied with the odd-colored sunrise.

Dean continued to ponder the subject of loitering, and whether or not he could break a police officer's jaw with his own hand-cuffs were he to be arrested for such an act. He grinned smugly to himself while listening to the morning song of a cardinal. Sure he could, he could take anyone. Dean could feel his own ego as it seemed to inflate itself. He was invincible. He was like, fucking Superman! Yeah!

Whoa, okay... A sudden wave of nausea washed over him. Dean gagged dryly for a moment before struggling to his feet. He managed to stumble a few yards deeper into the thick woods before his center of gravity seemed to disappear and he fell. He dry heaved on his hands and knees, with his head hanging limply between his shoulders. A few yards away, one of the teen-age boys he'd come to know as Harry, though Dean knew that wasn't his name, seemed to be having the same experience. Except Harry had eaten the night before.

When the nausea passed and the forest had stopped spinning Dean ventured to stand. He succeeded, with a smug grin of triumph on his face as he swaggered over to the rest of the group. He looked from one to the other, evaluating their situation; an old habit that probably came from being an ex-marine's eldest son. Harry was still retching in the bushes about twenty feet away. His girlfriend and/or sister, Dean hadn't decided, lay face down on Harry's coat next to a half-eaten hot dog and an empty beer bottle. Dean had named her Sally. He snickered. Get it? He asked himself for probably the thirtieth time in the past nine hours. When Harry Meet Sally... Funny.

Dean shook his head at his own comic genius and turned his attention to the other girl, whom he'd decided to call Alley. She was really pretty, he'd thought, but her boyfriend was here too, disappointingly. Still, he fantasized. He could do that right? And...

Even if he did fuck Alley, her boyfriend; Dean called him Jack, was so stoned he wouldn't notice or care. And if he did, well Dean could take him. Hell, Dean could kill him.

Whoa, hold it. Dean shook his head violently. That wasn't him, he didn't think things like that. He must still be kind of tired, or maybe he was stoned and drunk of his ass, but it didn't matter because he was totally under control. Completely, and fully –

"Hey, new guy!" Jack shouted with a furious look on his face. Dean jerked to look at him, noticing only now that he had to pull away from the girl to do so.

Oops...

"What are you doing, touching her?" Jack said. He didn't yell, and he looked as though he were going to puke any moment, but Dean was still intimidated.

If only for a moment before he remembered who he was.

He was Superman. Still,

Be nice. Be polite, try to reason– "Sorry, man, I guess your girl just knows what she wants." Damn it.

"What did you say, you punk?" Jack growled. Alley re-buttoned her shirt but licked her lips with a smile none-the-less. Dean smirked, he knew she wanted him. If he could just get rid of Jack... Oh God, no. No, no, no.

"I meant... Look I'm sorry, I didn't know–"

"You knew damn well, I was watch–" Jack didn't finish his sentence. Dean was back on his feet in a flash, and before he knew what was happening he felt his knuckles come into contact with Jack's jaw. Jack stumbled and fell backwards into the dead leaves. When he raised his head again he had on his face a look of mortal terror.

For a moment Dean was confused. He hadn't hit him that hard, the action was just reflex. Then he saw it and his stomach turned. In his hand, was a gun, and he had it aimed between Jack's eyes. What in the fuck? What was he doing? Put it down, put it down!

Dean took a few steps closer to Jack, unable to lower the weapon for some reason. Oh God, he was totally out of it and he knew it. So this is what a psycho felt like. Dean knew he was now officially against the death penalty. Maybe all murderers felt this way, simply unable to control their actions, watching from inside. Did they deserve to die? Did their victims?... Why was he even thinking about this? He hadn't killed anybody, and he wouldn't. That thought repeated itself over and over inside his swimming, throbbing head. No, he wasn't a killer. Not unless he had to be. He was Superman, he was a good guy.

He lowered the gun and put on the safety, just in case. Jack continued to stare at him, terrified, but Dean felt a certain level of pride at having found control. However, very soon he was collapsing to the cold ground, dry heaving again. The pleasant warmth was leaving his body as the drugs began to lose their potency. Cold settled over him like an icy fog and rational thought came back, causing him to realize the extremity of his actions. He'd almost killed a man. Oh God, he could have killed them all.

Dean didn't want to think, he didn't want to face reality, he hated the cold. What was happening to him? He crawled over to Jack and placed his hand gently on the boy's shoulder.

"Are you okay?" He slurred. God, where was this headache coming from? Dean's head felt as though it were going to split open any second. Jack shuddered, probably from the cold that was washing over him as well, everyone seemed to be coming to.

"I'm..." He blinked several times. "...alive. Are you okay?"

"Fine." Dean shook his head in disbelief. "I'm sorry, man. Really, that was fucked up as hell. I didn't mean it." Jack laughed half-heartedly.

"Dude, if I'd had a gun you wouldn't be sitting there. You got more control than any of us." With his final statement he glared at Alley, who merely broke the neck off of another beer and rolled over onto her back.

"I don't know what got into me." Dean confessed. Jack stared at him.

"Whatever, man, you're a joke." He scoffed before crawling over to his girlfriend and collapsing at her side. Dean was confused, and his head was swimming. He pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off the throbbing pain but it did no good. Still on his knees, Dean pressed both palms into his temples if only to hold his skull together. Nothing stopped the pulsing, pounding in his head.

Sally seemed to come out of nowhere, with Harry at her side. Both of them had pasty grins on their faces and their eyes looked dull and empty. Harry smacked Dean in the back of the head, causing stars to dance in front of his eyes. Dean swore and Harry let out a high pitched giggle.

"Does your head hurt, new guy?"

"Dean." He grumbled giving Harry a fierce glare of warning. "I have a gun." He added to his own surprise.

"We noticed, show you put on." Sally sneered. "What are you, some sorta secret agent?" She laughed but Dean pondered the term before answering.

"Yeah." He nodded, despite the white pain that flashed through his skull at the sudden movement. "Yeah, I'm a secret agent. Agent Ford."

"Dean Ford?" Sally said slowly, twisting her tongue around the sound of it. Dean almost nodded again, but his head begged for mercy, so he merely mumbled.

"Mm-hmm." Dean was suddenly beginning to feel his ego swell again. "And I have a lot more than that." He bragged. Harry laughed out loud at him.

"Yeah?" He teased. "Like what?"

"A dozen years of martial arts training for one." Dean sneered with a glint in his eye. Sally swooned.

"Really?"

"Oh yeah!" Dean grinned. He loved a captive audience. "I'm the best big brother ever." Huh? Dean's smile immediately fell from his face. He didn't know where the thought had come from, but he'd rather still have the gun aimed at that kid's head than think about Sammy. He shook the thought from his head, an action that brought more blinding pain and prompted a stifled whimper from Dean.

"Hey, dude." Harry said, shoving a plastic bag into Dean's face. "You're in rough shape, you need some o' this stuff here." He grinned. Dean didn't take the bag from him, still too pre-occupied with the headache to really hear him. Sally took the bag from her boyfriend and shook a small amount of the fine, white powder into her palm before shoving it under his nose.

"Here, baby." She cooed. "This help you, okay? Just blow your nose, only backwards."

Dean obeyed, coughing with surprise as the powder stung him between his eyes. It hurt for a moment, but very soon all feeling was melting away from him as the numbing warmth closed over his entire body. It was instant relief. He wanted to thank Harry and Sally for their help but the fog over his head wouldn't allow him to. He simply sat there, crossed legged and swaying back and forth.

"There you are..." Sally whispered. Or maybe she wasn't whispering, she sounded so far away...

Dean fell backwards into the leaves and watched the trees bend every which way in a variety of colors, and all thought of home and his brother vanished. Dean sensed movement beside him and turned his head just enough to see Jack and Alley kissing and fondling each other. He laughed to himself, apparently they made up okay. Now they were naked in the leaves, and Dean just watched; his own hand slipping inside his pants subconsciously as Alley gasped for air underneath Jack.

Dean shuddered when he came, but made not a sound. Suddenly very tired, he let the moans of the others melt into soft, white noise, and all was dark.

Sam didn't go to school that day. The night before, John had woken him up from where he slept fretfully on the couch and told him to get the shot gun, he'd heard screaming outside. They bolted out, guns at the ready, only to see a body. Sam knew the woman, she was his Geography teacher. School was closed the next morning.

After examining the body they concluded that the fabled vampire attacks, weren't vampires at all. The two tell-tale bite marks in the poor woman's neck were certainly the cause of death, but the body was still warm when they found her. Therefore, still contained warm blood. The marks were in all likely-hood created by an iron, two-pronged fork or something to that effect. This was the work of a nut-job, not a vampire, and thus not their problem.

At least this was John's view. Sam had other feelings. "I knew that woman!" He argued as he watched his father pack up their clothes for the trip. "She had three kids, we have to find the bastard who's doing this!"

John shook his head. "The police have more resources, we can't do anything they can't do. This isn't our kind of job."

"Our kind of job?" Sam repeated with arrogance. "You don't care if people die out here? You just want to take off again, to find another dead end?" John zipped the duffel bag up and threw it onto the couch with the other two. He seemed unfazed, so Sam continued. "Mom's not out there, Dad, no matter where you look. She's d–"

Before he'd managed to get the ugly word out of his mouth his father was on him, his eyes flashing with fury. "Don't. Ever. Talk to me that way again." He growled. "We're leaving. Today. That's final."

Oooo... Cliff hangers. Ehh, I'm addicted to those. .:shrug:. Evil. That's me. Please review. Really. I thrive on reviews.

Next week, we get a little more action, lots more angst, and some gore. Yes!