Author's note: Thanks to Ghastly Eternity for test- and beta-reading! Technically, this is a sequel to my other story 'Changing Channels Extended Cut' but it won't be necessary to read that one to understand what's going on. I didn't make many changes to canon in the other story and the ones I made will be explained again here if they become relevant.

[insert obligatory begging for reviews here]

1

"Okay, Cas, just keep looking, we'll be in contact," Dean finished the phonecall with their angelic friend.

Who would have thought that it would be Becky, the super-fan, of all people who'd give them a clue how they could possibly end the Apocalypse? Dean would have loved to give all the credit for that to Chuck, but apparently the prophet had only written the little detail about the Colt being in the possession of some demon down, but hadn't thought about telling them. So yes, they had Becky to thank for ever finding out about that.

"He hasn't found Crowley yet?" Sam asked from his place on the passenger's seat, where he was going through some more newspaper reports on the case they would be working with two other hunters.

They had Bobby looking for Apocalypse-specific troubles and Castiel was searching for the demon who should either have the Colt, or know where it could be found. Thus forth, the Winchester brothers had decided to go on doing business as usual. After all, the average things that went bump in the night hadn't gone on an extended vacation just because the Apocalypse had started. Quite the contrary, in fact. Furthermore, Bobby had received a phone-call from the two hunters they would be meeting up with soon, saying that they really needed some reinforcement on the werewolf-hunt they were on.

"It's only been a week, cut the guy some slack," Dean replied, reaching for the radio he had turned off before he had picked up the phone. If Castiel said that he was searching, then he was searching 24/7. It wasn't like the guy was going to be sidetracked by anything. Alright, if God suddenly came back from his vacation, Cas might abandon his search for Crowley, but in this very unlikely scenario they would not need the Colt anymore anyway.

Yeah sure, God was going to come back, put all the dicks who were so keen on the Apocalypse – especially Michael and Lucifer – into time-out, and everyone would get to run over a meadow frolicking with unicorns and rainbows. Dean so believed in that.

"Come on, not again!" he groaned just a moment later, when he finally noticed that the radio was not playing the music it should have been playing. Something seemed to be wrong with the cassette-deck, because he sure as hell didn't have a tape with Adele on it. The next time they were at Bobby's and had some downtime, he'd have to check that out, but for the moment being he could only switch to another station.

"What the hell is wrong with the music in this state?" Dean grumbled after he had checked every station available and had only come up with pop-music and the sort of soft-rock he wouldn't be caught dead listening to.

"You mean because it's not all out of the sixties?" Sam commented with a small smirk before going back to the newspaper reports. They quite clearly were looking for a werewolf. The killings had started the previous month, but nobody had caught on quick enough to get rid of the creature, before the full moon had been over. As things were, they only had two days left before there'd be another month of waiting.

It seemed that the other two hunters had done a good job on the research already, but they had only been able to narrow the suspects down to three people, thus their need for backup.

Dean turned the radio off, after three ballads about broken hearts. He really couldn't stand any more of that crap. It wasn't music, it was torture! By all means, Sam shouldn't like it. There was enough pain in their lives without adding mindless pop music to the mix. It made Dean wonder, if his brother didn't simply have a very strong masochistic streak.

"Hey, Sam, you d'you actually like that sort of music, or do you just like it for the pain it gives you?" Dean asked in a lighthearted tone, after a – too short – moment of consideration, giving his brother a measuring look.

"What?" Sam simply replied, not completely sure if he had actually just heard what he thought he had. Okay, they both weren't sleeping all too well or all too much, but if it was starting to affect Dean's psyche like this, then Sam would have to make sure that he got a full night's sleep as soon as possible.

"Nothing," the older Winchester answered and immediately tried to change the subject to something else, "Why don't you share the facts on the case with the class?"

Sam gladly did that instead of discussing his taste in music, his brother's sanity, or a combination of both.

"My name's Dean, and that's my brother, Sam," Dean started with the introductions, once they had met up with the other two hunters.

"Leo. And that's my partner, Kyle," the other hunter replied, before they all shook hands.

The diner was rather busy around lunchtime as it seemed, so they could talk freely without having to fear that anybody might be paying too much attention to them. Unless, of course, somebody would have targeted them, before they even started to talk about the case, but neither one of them was too concerned about that possibility.

"So, you told Bobby that you needed help," Sam prompted, after the waitress had brought their coffees. Alright, they already knew that part, but they had to start talking about the reason why they were all here eventually.

"Yeah, even more now," Leo nodded and looked over to Kyle, who had his arm bandaged, "We came pretty close yesterday, but then the werewolf suddenly changed directions and got him."

"Tell me that's not a bite-wound," Dean immediately demanded.

"'Course it isn't," Kyle snorted, "I'd have a silver knife in my heart right now, if it was."

Sam had already guessed that the other two had to have been hunters for a while going by their appearance, but the way Kyle spoke about his own death that casually pretty much confirmed his guess. You couldn't hunt monsters for a living, not without accepting the possibility that it would get you killed. Accepting the fact that you really were going to die once the moment came was a completely different thing, of course.

"What's the plan?" Dean made his next question. They had been on this longer than Sam and he had, so at least listening to what kind of game-plan they had couldn't hurt. Besides, Dean had a hot cup of coffee and a piece of pie in front of him, so he was in the mood for listening to somebody else talking.

Leo produced a map of the town. Three points had already been marked in red, so obviously those were the houses of the suspects. Dean nodded along with the explanation they gave for every single one.

All in all, they'd just have to keep a close look at the three suspects that night and go their merry ways afterward. This was the kind of rather easy and clear-cut hunt, Dean had been missing lately. Sam seemed to agree, at least he hadn't voiced any complaints.

"Great, I'd say you'll watch this one," Leo addressed Dean pointing at one of the marked locations, "While Kyle and I take this one and Sam goes for the last."

The older Winchester nodded his consent. It seemed only logical that the other two would have to team up, since one of them was already wounded. Besides Dean knew what he and Sam could do, but he wasn't quite so sure about the other pair, so the arrangement suited him well.

It wasn't that the others didn't look and sound like they knew what they were doing, but Dean would rather not have to put too much trust into people he had only just met. Lives were at stake in this, after all.

They exchanged phonenumbers, so they could stay in touch and call for reinforcement once they knew which person they were actually after before Leo and Kyle left to check their equipment.

"What do you think?" Sam asked after the other two had left the diner for good. He hadn't seen anything suspicious about the case, but it couldn't hurt to check with his brother. The way Dean was clearly more interested in his pie, than anything else, was already sort of an answer, though.

"A clear-cut case and awesome pie," Dean answered and shrugged lightly, "What's not to love?"

Sam and Dean had split up well before the moon would rise to be on the safe side, and apparently Leo and Kyle had done the same. Sometimes Sam wondered how hunters had worked their cases before the invention of the mobile-phone, or before the invention of regular phones, even. Then again, the entire infrastructure had been different in those days and, to be completely honest, modern technology might make many things easier, but it wasn't the only reason they worked in most cases.

The neighborhood he was in was nearly completely quiet, which put Sam on edge for some reason. Call it gut-feeling or just paranoia, but something wasn't right there. It wasn't helping that the lights were on in the nice little one-story home he was watching, but he hadn't seen any movement inside yet.

Sam considered sending Dean a text-message, but then again he didn't really have anything to say, other than 'I have a bad feeling about this', and Dean would mock him mercilessly if it turned out he had been wrong in the best case. In the worst case people would have died because of him, yet again.

So instead of contacting anyone, Sam sneaked closer to get a better picture of the situation. He had his weapons on him and a pretty good idea of what might be waiting for him. What was the worst that could happen?

A peek through the nearest window made a deep frown appear on Sam's face. The room was basically empty, which seemed unusual enough to warrant a mention at their briefing in the diner earlier that day. Then again, maybe the other two hadn't gotten this close, or maybe Jack Harker – suspect number three – was in the process of moving, with or without being the werewolf.

Sam was really thinking about telling the others about this new development, when his eyes fell on a bloody spot on the floor. All thoughts about having a little chat about missing furniture with his brother were thrown out of the proverbial window. Instead, Sam kept a tighter grip on his gun and quickly kicked the door open.

He had been ready for a lot of things, but not for what really was waiting for him.