Hi! This is my first Supernatural story, so I might not get things right. If so, SORRY! :( I am trying my best.

Also, sorry if I get any Twilight things wrong. I'm not a fan so I haven't read the books or seen the movies. So things might be incorrect. Again, forgive me. I hope you enjoy it though! Thanks! :)

-Wolf ;)

Hell and Vampires

Dean thought for a bit before telling his little brother about Hell. "It wasn't four months you know."

"What?" Sam said, clearly confused.

"It was four months up here but down there, I don't know, time's different. It was more like forty years," Dean explained

Sam took a while before he answered. "Oh my God." He said softly.

Dean hesitated again. "They uh, they sliced and carved and tore at me in ways that you…" Dean shook his head. "Until there was nothing left. And then suddenly, I would be whole again. Like magic. Just so they could start it all over. And Alistair, at the end of every day, every one, he would come over and he would make me an offer to take me off the rack if I put souls on. If I started the torturing. And every day I told him to stick it where the sun shines." Dean smirked slightly.

"For thirty years I told him. But then I couldn't do it anymore, Sammy. I couldn't." Dean swallowed, and his sorrow was pouring out of his voice. "And I got off that rack, God help me I got right off it, and I started ripping them apart." Tears welled up in Dean's eyes. "I lost count of how many souls." A tear leaked from his eye. "The things that I did to them…" Dean looked down and the tears came freely.

"Dean… Dean, look you held out for thirty years; that's longer than anyone would've." Sam said, trying to console him.

Dean didn't respond right away. He wiped away his tears and said, "How I feel… inside me… I wish I couldn't feel anything, Sammy. I wish I couldn't feel a damn thing." More tears came, and the Winchester brothers sat on the hood of the old '67 Impala, the only sounds were the wind and Dean's soft sobs.

SAM POV

Sam couldn't believe how awful Hell really was. He couldn't imagine how his older brother was feeling. He must have been so dead inside. Sam shook his head, trying not to cry. What would he do if he was in Dean's shoes?

He pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a minute and then went back to research. He was doing more research on vampires, there seemed to be more than one type. The only types of vampires they had hunted before had several teeth, and a deathly desire for human blood.

But according to the musty old book he borrowed from Bobby, there were more than that. More urban vampires called their nests "covens". Which was quite incorrect, Sam thought, a coven was a group of witches, not vampires. But Sam wasn't going to educate a bunch of blood thirsty SOBs.

He turned another page. There were two diagrams, both of teeth vampires could have. They had the classic movie vampire one which people thought was real, with the extended canines that left the two marks in the neck. Then there was the real vampire one, the ones that Sam had dealt with before. These vamps had several teeth that extended over their human teeth. A hell of a lot scary than two, Sam thought.

He flipped to the next page. It had information about some vampires trying to not drink human blood, but animal blood to avoid hunters and stay better hidden. He remembered Lenore, how her and her nest drank cattle blood so that hunters would leave them alone. Sam had gotten Dean to look past their exterior and see that they really didn't want to hurt anyone. He tried to get Gordon believe, but he just wouldn't. So Dean had to deal with it in his own way.

Sam went back to the page with the diagrams. He inspected them harder, looking at the difference in the size.

"That is total bull," Dean said, clapping a hand on Sam's shoulder. "No way there are actual vamps with fangs like that." He bent closer to the page.

"Well, apparently there are. It says here that there have been countless sights from hunters up north. Around Washington and surrounding areas." Sam said, pointing at the bottom of the page.

Dean read a bit more of the page. "Huh." He straightened. "You should get some sleep. It's two a.m."

Sam rubbed his eyes. "Yeah you're right. You should too Dean."

Dean looked away. "Yeah I will in a bit. I'm just not that tired."

"Alright," Sam said, looking worriedly at his brother before going to get ready for bed.

DEAN POV

Sam was sleeping in one of the grungy motel beds, his gigantic form spread out on the yellow quilt. This motel was one of the crappy ones, so Dean wanted to find a job and get the hell out as soon as possible. He was seated in a stiff backed chair, shining and cleaning his shotgun.

Then he set it down. He shut his eyes and shook his head. He was having another flashback from Hell.

Flash, red.

Flash, red and black.

Dean looked around, more red. He yelled, "Sammy!" He screamed more when the black and red flashed like strobe lights.

Something tugged on him. He looked at his body, which was attached to a rack. "No, no no! Somebody help me! SAM!"

Things tore away him, digging into him and ripping his flesh. He moaned and screamed, the pain excruciating. He could feel blood streaming out of him and his head was going fuzzy. Alistair came up to him, again offering the same damn offer. Dean said no. More like sputtered it because his mouth was full of blood. He choked and Alistair laughed. "NO!" Dean yelled. He screamed it again and again until he could scream no more.

Dean came out of the flashback. His elbows were on the table, one hand on top of his head, the other on his forehead. He took a deep breath and curled his hands into fists. He pressed the heels of his hand against his forehead. He shut his eyes, trying to banish the memory he had just relived. But as soon as he just his eyes, it started again. He opened them quickly, and sat there, panting slightly.

Sam snored and Dean looked over at him. He looked totally knocked out. Dean could escape for an hour or two. He grabbed his leather jacket and put his pistol in his pocket. He never left without a weapon. Being without one made him feel naked, no matter what the circumstance was.

He silently left the motel room, and locked the door after himself. He looked in the parking lot and found his baby waiting for him, dew making the black metal sparkle. He walked over to it and got in. He left the radio off, and didn't put in a cassette either. He just wanted a little silence.

He put the key in the ignition and peeled out of the lot. He knew there was a pond a few miles away from the motel, so he decided to go there.

Once he got there, he waited in the car a little before getting out. He took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping out into the cool night air. There was a small wooden bench, and Dean walked over to it. He sat down and let out a deep breath.

He stared at the pond, looking at the reflection of the night sky in it. The surface of the pond was still, but then ripples started moving along the top. Dean looked around. The pond was surrounded by woods, and it was very dark. Dean heard something, something very, very faint. But still something. He remembered the book that Sam was reading about vampires. Had he been followed?

He stood up and searched the woods. He heard something once again, the noise of a stick being snapped underfoot. He reached into his pocket and grabbed his pistol. He looked around, thought he saw a looming figure, and fired. There was a thump. Dean searched his pockets for a flashlight, and found none. But he had his lighter, so he used that instead. He flicked it open, and the orange flame lit a path.

He walked to wear he shot the figure. As he entered the woods, the lighter's flame shone on a dark mass. Dean walked cautiously forwards until he got a better look. "Damn it," Dean said. He shot a deer. He lowered his gun. "Sorry Bambi."

He walked out of the woods and back to his car. He was too on edge so he might as well go back to the motel and sharpen his knives or something. He just wanted something to do to take up his time. Anything… anything at all…

Dean took out his cell phone and called Bobby. It went to voice mail. Well, it was three a.m. so it made sense.

"Hey Bobby, it's Dean. I know it's early, but I just wanted to ask you something. If you find anything, anything at all, tell me. I mean a job. I just need to get my mind off of some stuff. Call me when you if you find something. Thanks."

He hung up, got in his car, and drove back to the motel.