A/N: i hope i did this right. i just edited this chapter a little. same thing, just cleaned it up a bit, i just hope i am reposting it right.

A/N: hello everyone, i am back again. if you havnt read my first story Shadow Stalker, you may be a little confused. you dont have to read it, though i recommend you do becuase it will be mentioned throughout. this isnt so much a sequel, but another "episode". i think my brain as decided to write its own season. lol. i hope you will all like this as much as the last. i think it will be a little lighter then Shadow Stalker, but i will throw in some angst for good measure. enjoy.

i am listing it as general, because i am only allow to pick two catagories and that isnt enough for me. :)

Disclaimer: i'm off on a Winchester hunt.

BY THE WAYSIDE

Chapter 1

The black car tore down the dusty road, gravel flying up as the tires ate the asphalt beneath. The rumble of the engine broke through the pre-dawn silence, cutting the air with its throaty growl. Behind the wheel Sam Winchester stared out at the darkening road, his mind miles away from the lonely strip of land. The almost forgotten road stretched out before him, calling to him, beckoning him forward into comfortable oblivion. His mind called to the darkness, welcomed the void; needed to rest, to fall away. The hunt had been hard, and unusual. They had been on the trail of a revenant, a tip Dean had found in the local paper. Everything had seemed normal, that was, until they arrived at its hunting grounds.

They had done their research, gone in prepared for once, or so they thought. Two son's had killed their abusive father, and in a sudden fear driven frenzy had decided to try and resurrect the man, hoping the town would be none the wiser. It was stupid, dangerous and flat-out insane, 'the dead should stay buried,' but still an everyday revenant. That was, until the brothers walked into a bad version of Dawn of the Dead. They could tell from the first encounter that something was very wrong. Revenants were usually very lifelike, more so then the average movie monster. They spoke clearly, walked normally, albeit slowly, and except for their empty eyes and absent heartbeat, they were more or less human. This, however was far from any other revenant the boys had seen. And it only grew stranger when the thing told Dean it wanted his brain.

The entire hunt just seemed surreal. The monster more fiction then reality, the boys having to resort to chopping its head off when it didn't stay reburied like it should have. But, not one to look fate in the eye, Dean had taken its death for what it was and decided to move on. After all, they had only gone up against a revenant once before, perhaps the rules were different for everyone. Sam, however, couldn't shake the strong feeling that something was very wrong, that they were missing something important. He didn't know if it was stress, their lack of experience with this type of monster, or something else entirely. All he knew was that something was eating away at him, there was some piece of the puzzle that they were missing.

It had been nearly five months since they had been lured into the shadow forest, driven down Shadow Pine Highway. Five long months since Dean was thrown over a cliff by the wind. Five months of recovery, of changed priorities. For a while no one was even sure that Dean would be able to hunt again, his knee badly damaged in the ordeal, his future almost wiped clean by one act of vengeance. Even now, every time Sam thought of what Joshua had done, what their trusted friends had cost his brother, he could feel a deep, unbridled anger growing almost unchecked inside him. A life was lost in that forest, a man was taken from this world by a demon, and while the image of Joshua melting would be forever engraved in his brain, a very small part of Sam did not feel remorse. Yes a human life was gone, but if it was a choice between Joshua or his brother, Dean would win every time.

"What did my car ever do to you?"

"Huh?" Sam snapped out of his inner tirade, looking over to Dean.

He was sitting in the passenger seat, papers strewn across his lap, searching for their next gig. He had been unable to hunt for four months, something he had never thought possible. He had spent that time working on his knee, learning to adapt to the injury, strengthening the rest of his body to favor it, protect it. But four months was a very long time for Dean Winchester to sit still, and now that he was back out in the world, he was going to make up for lost time.

"You look like you're trying to strangle the steering wheel."

"Oh, sorry." Sam loosened his death grip on the wheel, still staring down the long, empty road in front of him, a cold breeze blowing momentarily, almost unnoticed through the car. He unconsciously pulled his jacket tighter, looking up into the rearview mirror, gray eyes staring back. He blinked quickly, his brown eyes shinning, shaking his head. 'Man I am tired.'

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"Bull."

"Dean, there's nothing wrong with me. I'm just thinking."

"Well, that's never a good thing."

"Whatever, dude."

"Don't whatever me, Sam, the cows in the field could take one look at you and know something was wrong. Now spill."

"You don't think this whole thing was strange?"

"What whole thing?"

"The revenant, it didn't really follow the rules."

"How do you know, the only other one we put away was that chick. Maybe it works different for everyone, maybe they used different rituals. Who the hell knows."

"Well, we should, seeing as how it's our job."

"Funny, smart ass."

"Look, Dean, all I'm saying is that something isn't right. And it's not just this hunt. Remember the black dog two weeks ago?"

"You mean the one that almost ripped your arm off, vaguely."

"Yeah well, last I checked black dogs were more like spirits, described as a mastiff with glowing red eyes, not Cujo."

"Well, maybe it was a different kind."

"Dean, we've been fighting Stephen King characters."

"No, your geek boy brain has been reading too many books. I told you those thing were bad for you."

"You know what, fine."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"So." Dean began after a long silence, desperate to change the subject. Sam was right, something was off with the last two hunts, he had seen it too. They were too much like the legends people told around the campfire, too much like the urban tales they had originated from. Yes everything had some basis in reality, some starting point, it was just that reality rarely followed the stories word for word. It seemed almost like their jobs had jumped out of someone's imagination. The only thing he needed now was a big dopy great dane as a sidekick.

"Why are you smirking at me like that?" Sam looked over at his brother, slightly unnerved at the private joke Dean was having with himself.

"Oh nothing, scooby."

"What?"

"I've been looking for our next gig, think I found something. A Hodag sighting."

"Dean, be serious, those things don't exist."

"How do you know? We thought vampires didn't exist and look where that got us."

"Dean, have you ever read about those things. It's said that they evolved to have longer legs on one side then the other."

"Yeah, to help them walk on steep hills."

"You do know that that only works in one direction."

"Well, makes them easier to catch now, doesn't it."

"Are you serious?"

"Why the hell not. Says here that the thing is huge, been mauling people all along a hiking trail."

"Has it killed anyone?"

"Not yet, and I plan on keeping it that way."

"Fine, but I'm not driving all the way there tonight."

"Cheap motel it is. Besides, I'm starving."

About forty minutes later the boys came across a decent looking truck stop motel. Dean waited in the car while Sam went to check them in, his knee still bothering him. He had made a remarkable recovery, having worked his leg back up to eighty percent mobility, and while it would never be as strong as it was before, he was just glad he could still walk. The Asura had done a number on him, and knife-welding Joshua hadn't been much help either.

The ordeal in the forest still haunted him, still woke him in the night, body trembling, mind reeling. It was almost as though he could feel the shadow in the room, sense it reaching for him, calling to him. He knew it was destroyed, sent back to the hell it had come from, or at least he hoped that was the case. Their father had returned to the forest shortly after his son had been released from the hospital, intent on salting and burning Joshua's remains. He hadn't faced a single problem, not even the smallest patch of fog, and as far as they were concerned they were through with the demon.

But that did little to ease Dean's nightmares, to rid his mind of the experience, erase the torture, the fear. It wasn't death that had scared him, no he had faced that more times then he could count. It was the truth, the emotions, the reality of his family that had him rattled. He had heard the shadow when it spoke to his brother, heard it voice Sam's true feelings, learned how he really felt, why he really left him. And it tore his soul to shreds. His brother was all he had, everything he was, and he was terrified that the shadow was right, that given the opportunity Sam would again leave him behind.

"Earth to, Dean."

"Huh?" Dean looked up to see Sam climbing into the driver's seat of the impala, Dean still unable to drive long distances.

"There's a dinner across the street, do you want to eat in or do take away?"

"Um, take away."

"All right." Sam drove around the building to their room, helping unpack the car while Dean walked in, his limp barely noticeable. Sam was amazed at how quickly his brother had bounced back from the injury, how strongly the older man fought to be himself again, be normal again. He truly did admire him. Dean was the strongest person he knew, and Sam wasn't even sure that death could keep the middle Winchester down.

"Burgers all around?" Sam asked, pocketing the motel keys.

"Yeah, with fries and soda."

"All right, be back in a few."

Dean settled himself on the bed, pulling his brother's laptop out and turning it on, the screen flickering to life. Over the past few months he had taken over the role of geek boy, and he hated it. He found researching boring, and much less effective then guns blazing. What good is knowing the inner workings of some spook's life? Salt and burn, as easy as pie. He continued to surf the Internet, searching for any new information about the supposed Hodag. He laughed quietly to himself, his mind picturing a herd of animals stuck running the same direction along the side of a steep hill, two short legs and two long. It really was an amusing picture.

As he scrolled through link after link, trying to learn all he could about the strange, and probably fake animal he found a web page he hoped he would never see again.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

"What?" Sam asked, caring in two large bags of food, setting them down on the table in the kitchenette.

"I was doing some research about the Hodag."

"And you realized how absurd that animal is?"

"Yes, but that's not the kicker. Apparently your favorite site has plenty of info on the little suckers."

"And what site would that be?" Sam asked, laying out the food as Dean put down the computer, it's screen facing the room and made his way to the table.

"Hell hounds lair dot com." Dean smirked, clicking the link.

"Oh, god. That stupid thing? Those two need to give it a rest."

"I'm surprised a real ghost hasn't shoved them down a well yet."

"I'm surprised a real person hasn't shoved them down a well yet."

"Too true." Dean shrugged sitting at the table.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam asked a few minutes later, something on the computer screen catching his eye.

"Yeah?"

"How well did you look over that site?"

"I didn't, I just clicked on it for fun. Why?"

"Because, I think the Hodag is the least of our worries." Sam walked over and picked up the laptop, bringing it to the table. Dean stared in horror at the video streaming across the screen, his green eyes growing wider with each passing minute.

"Sam, that's us."

"I know."

"And that's the revenant."

"Exactly."

"We're on the Internet fighting a zombie."

"Yup, for the whole world to see."

TBC

A/N2: the stephen king refrence goes for both hunts. Cujo was a story of a killer St. Bernard and the idea of the son's killing their dad by accident came from the second pet semetary movie.

Hodags are a real part of american folklore as well, i did not make them up. they are from wisconsin. i love american folklore, i always have. i grew up hiking and camping, and used to go ghost hunting as a kid (it is alot of fun if you ever get the chance). i am hoping to have alot of the campfire stories i grew to love in this story, hope you all like it.