Prologue
Everyone reaches that one point when they need saving. They may not know it. They may not seek it. They may not want it. Dean Winchester surely didn't. Ironically enough, he had been saved enough times to know the feeling. He had been pulled out of hell, he had escaped purgatory, he had been cured of his demonic self. Yet he knew he was a broken man. He knew he was beyond saving. He was a slick son of a bitch, that was for sure, having tricked death so many times, but actual saving, the one he needed like he never knew he did, that much he couldn't dare to hope for. They were lost, him and Sam. This life had ruined them and they were beyond redemption by now. They were both aware of it.
Yet there's always hope, even for those who are hopeless. The Winchesters had no idea. But there was a part of them, powerful enough, stubborn enough to break through, and independent enough to guide them through the thick darkness within themselves.
As they were riding in the Impala down the streets of Crawford, Colorado, struggling to figure out what it was that was doing all those killings, they were completely clueless to how the road was leading them straight into the greatest plot twist of their lives.
"Dean, there's no reason at all to believe that there's any supernatural activity here, we've been over this," Sam tried to reason with his brother for the hundredth time. "We followed every lead and I'm telling you, this town's clean. It's got a touch of insanity, but it's human insanity."
"I know," Dean answered. "But the omens of demonic activity were what caught our attention in the first place, Sammy. And a trail of sulfur? That's a lead. So we ain't leaving until we've literally followed every lead."
Would things have gone differently if Sam could've convinced Dean to just move on from Crawford, Colorado? Would they have never crossed paths with the Bennet girls? Would they have ever found their salvation?
As they parked in front of a cheap motel and they got out of the car, the smell of rotting eggs hit them harder than they had ever felt before. Sam shot Dean a look that admitted that he was right and that this was really a lead. Although there had been no signs of demons these past few weeks during their research and interrogations, this screamed demon. The trail of sulfur crystals they had followed led them to the room 13. A demon with a sense of humor, the boys thought. They pulled out their guns out of their belts and kept them out of sight, then they knocked on the door, having no clue whatsoever that what waited for them on the other side would change their lives for good.
