It was freezing. Christ, this was Antarctic weather even though he was inside. Bloody global warming. It was a standard case, a couple of werewolves, and a few fallen angels meddling with things as per normal. The case was coming to a fair stand still and he'd left Sam to do some more research whilst he got supplies. Grabbing a few beers from the bar downstairs and not much else, Dean headed back up to the motel room.

The beers were still freezing by the time Dean reached the shared room on the fourth floor. The elevator was down because the mechanics had malfunctioned due to the cold. He hated motels this big but the weather was so torrential, this place was the only thing within a 50-mile radius. The snow and ice sheeted down from the large rounded window at the end of the floor. It was strangely hypnotizing. Room 404 was near the end and he felt the breeze from the large window and he unlocked the door with his free hand.

'Hey, they only had some Copenhagen crap but it beats going outside.' He said as he walked in.

Sam was intently studying on his laptop, the cable almost tripping Dean up as he popped open the bottles and stuck them on Sam's desk. Almost by force of habit, Sam moved the beer further away from his laptop, without taking his eyes off the screen. There was a reason he ended up with a new laptop every 4 months. Sam's eyes looked a little bloodshot, but it was a perk of the job.

'It's fine. OK, so you were right about the case.'

A smug look on Dean's spread across his lips.

'Aren't I always.' He replied.

Sam didn't even bother looking up – he was far too used to this smugness.

'Well you were also wrong.'

The smugness was wiped off.

'So, basically, we've got our bog standard werewolves, right? And like you said – the angels are corrupted and they're hunting them and killing them instead of doing their normal angel duty. But that's the thing; these aren't angels. At least, not really. They're called 'Anima Vegats' and they're essentially shape shifters.'

'Woo woo, hang on…shape shifters?'

'Yes…but no. I'm not finished.'

'Of course you're not – go on.'

Dean reached for his beer, knowing it was going to be a long explanation. The sleet outside continued to pound down.

'Well these 'Anima Vegats' are shape shifters in the sense that their true form is not their current form. But, and this is a big but, they can only shape shift once. Whatever they shape shift into; they have to die as that form. Their true form is invisible to the naked eye, and they go unnoticed. But once they choose a form, they must live like that forever. And there's no changing back to any other form.'

'Right.' Dean said as he took a drink of beer, 'so you're saying, that these Vegats, they shape shifted into Angels because it's the best form to be? They essentially never die.'

'Exactly.'

'But hang on, how can we tell what's a Vegat and what's an Angel if they take on a human vessel?'

Sam furrowed his brow.

'This took some working out. They only take the form of an Angel so there are certain things they can't do. And one of the things is killing werewolves. Werewolves are their biggest threat and I found out they hunt Vegats. I know, you're wondering how are the werewolves dead then? Well they're trapping them and starving them to death. Hence, why they were so emaciated when they were dead. It's the only way the Vegats can kill them. With the werewolves gone they don't have to hide in fear.'

Sam took a deep breath and stood up.

'How do we kill them?' Dean said, knowing the answer wasn't going to one he'd want to hear.

'We don't. We can't. But the werewolves can. We capture one. Offer it a Vegat for dinner and let it do the dirty work.'

'Right. But that still doesn't explain how we tell the different between a Vegat and real Angel. I'm gonna' take a wild guess and say only werewolves can sense Vegats.'

Sam walked over to the bed, and looked at it painfully, it had been a long day and it felt like Dean was just full of questions.

'I don't know Dean. I guess so but how do we get a werewolf? And how do we convince it to hunt a Vegat? And how many Vegats are there? It just seems…too much.'

The wind battered viciously against the window, the moon was in view…it would be a full moon in three days, on Wednesday.

Finally, after what seems like a good ten minutes of awkward standing, Dean spoke up.

'OK well there's not much we can do right now anyway. I guess we just get some rest, start afresh in the morning.'

Dean finished his beer and looked over at Sam's untouched one.

'You gonna' drink that?' He said.

'No. Have it.'

Dean finished the bottle in a matter of seconds, sending him to a light and airy stupor.

There were two fairly generous sized beds, and Dean took off his pants and shirt, threw them in the bathroom and lay down. He was asleep in ten minutes.

Sam, on the other hand, stayed awake. He couldn't help thinking this was all pointless. All the hunting just for something else to come along. He could hear Bobby's voice 'It's the family business Sam' yet how this 'family business' crap had killed so many of his closest friends and family.