It was times like these that Sam really had to wonder about the life he and his brother led. Sure, they'd spent their lives chasing down demons, hunting anything supernatural, and generally saving the world from the ultimate bad guys. Sure, they'd seen some strange things – the family haunted by a nudist colony back in New Mexico came to mind – but this had to be the weirdest thing they'd ever come up against.

Well, Dean had always said books would be the death of him.

"Could you read a little faster, Sammy?" Dean growled, pumping another shot of rock salt into the rather large book that had them cornered in the Marion, Kansas library. It rocked the book back a few feet, but it didn't affect the demonic tome any more than the gallon of holy water they'd dumped on it.

Sam didn't bother to halt the stream of Latin – Dean could see the problem just as well as he could.

The plan wasn't working.

Three days earlier…

"Haunted library, huh?" Dean smirked.

"Yep. Whatever this thing is, it doesn't seem to be bothering the librarians, but the janitors are dropping like flies." Sam shrugged. "Or disappearing like flies, anyway. First one, David Baker, was about six months ago. Librarian went to open up in the morning and found all his cleaning supplies in the middle of the back room, but Baker was nowhere to be found. The vacuum cleaner was still running, the lights were still on. There have been three more disappearances like that since then, all janitors, all working after hours in the back room."

"So, whatever we're after, it's back there."

Sam nodded. "And it only started six months ago, so whatever this is, something must have woken it up."

"Unless it's a cursed artifact," Dean pointed out. "Something the library just bought?"

Sam opened his laptop. "We'll just have to see."

Now…

In hindsight, it probably would have been a better idea to do more research before breaking into the library. But Sam had hit a wall he hadn't expected – apparently the library was small enough that it didn't feel the need to have a website or any other means of finding information about its happenings. Once the librarians had been exhausted as a source of information, the only course of action that they could think of (and would keep Dean from bouncing off the wall with boredom) was to go straight to the source of the problem.

Which led the brothers here. Backed into a corner by a book – which was suddenly glowing blue.

"Oh, no no no no," Dean moaned. "Sammy, please tell me that doesn't look like what I think it looks like."

Sam gave up his reading as hopeless and looked up. "Wha…? That's not possible!"

"Say that a little louder, Sammy, I don't think it believes you!" Dean shot the book again, but it just kept coming. "Please tell me you keep lamb's blood in that jacket of yours."

"Yeah, Dean, I always keep blood on me just in case we run into a djinn-book," Sam snarled, casting about for some sort of weapon. Somehow, he didn't think it'd be such a good idea to throw books at the thing.

"Alright, Sammy," Dean said quietly. "I'm going to distract it. You make a run for the door."

"Don't be stupid," Sam muttered back. "I'm not leaving you here."

"It's not going to kill me, Sammy, and you can't save me if you're in the little djinn-world, too." Dean grabbed a book off the shelf behind him, blasting the djinn-book with rock salt as he did so. Throwing his shotgun at Sam, he pelted the thing with books.

"C'mon, you know you're just pissed you didn't make Oprah's book list!"

As near as Sam could tell, this seemed to enrage the thing, for it followed Dean along the wall making strange snarling noises from deep within its pages.

"Sammy! Out!" Dean called as the book closed in on him. There was a flash of blue light, and Dean disappeared as Sam sprinted toward the door. If he could just make it outside….

If anyone had asked Sam what the top speed of a book was before tonight, he might have jokingly spouted the world's speed-reading record – 150,000 words per minute.

Unfortunately for Sam, the djinn-book was faster.

-----------------

Sam blinked rapidly in the sudden light, trying to erase the tinge of blue that bordered his vision. He was flat on his back in the middle of a forest clearing, and judging from the swearing somewhere off to his right, Dean was there, too.

Sam sat up slowly, taking in his surroundings. Trees, trees, and more trees. Terrific. And what was he…. Oh, by all that was holy, was he really wearing –

"TIGHTS! That freaking overgrown dictionary put me in tights!"

Sam barely managed to hold back a laugh. Dean was dressed all in mottled green, his shirt some sort of primitive hoodie, and he was indeed wearing tights.

Sam would have found this even funnier if he hadn't been wearing tights himself.

"What does it think I am, some sort of Peter Pan?" Dean raised a warning hand as Sam opened his mouth. "Don't even." He plopped onto the ground next to Sam. "So, geekboy, answer me this – why does your dreamland involve the two of us in tights?"

"My dreamland?" Sam sputtered. "Who says this is mine?"

"Hey, I've seen my dreamland, and there were a lot more hot women."

"That doesn't mean this is mine – "

A twig snapped brought their attention back to the forest around them.

It was no longer empty. At least twenty men ringed the clearing, aiming bows and arrows squarely at the brothers.

"Terrific," Dean rolled his eyes. "And now you've pissed off the locals."

From behind the line of bowmen, a nervous voice spoke up. "In the name of H-His Majesty, Prince John, I h-hereby arrest you, R-Robin Hood and Little J-John, for – "

"Wait, what?" Dean turned to Sam, eyes wide. "What?"