A dumbwaiter never was more exciting. Seriously guys. I just got the idea from a movie I watched. Well... at least about the dumbwaiter... the rest is just... imagination ;)

Well, and I don't own Dean and Sam and John... and doing this just for you to enjoy.

So, tell me what you think!!

-Lee


Sometimes

„Ohhh wait if I get you!" he roared, chasing after his little brother.

The small boy squealed in glee dashing out of the living room and up the stairs in search for a hiding place.

"You so gonna regret this!" Dean followed in hot pursuit.

Stopping at the top of the stairs he closed his eyes for a moment and listened. A smile crept over his features. At the moment they had THE hell of a time in a house as big as a hotel and still… he sneaked into the room and listened to the small giggle coming from under the bed.

"If I find you…" he bent and grabbed for a foot, starting to pull Sammy out from under the bed. The giggle turned into a high pitched scream.

"Nooo! Help! Help!" Sammy screamed while laughing at the same time as Dean started to tickle him.

"I'm the tickle-monster! Muuuaahhhhahaa!" Dean dropped his voice.

"Nooo! Dean! Stop it! Heelp!" Sammy squealed in return.

Both boys were so engrossed in their wrestling that they at first didn't sense the change around them.
Dean stopped dead, his brother still wriggling under him. He watched as Sam exhaled, his breath coming out in little white puffs.

"Shhh!" He told his brother, his voice deadly serious.

Sammy stopped, watching in his brother's face as he seemed to listen intensely.

Something heavy fell downstairs and Sam could feel his brother's breathing stop all together for a moment.
Then, something in Dean changed and his gentle and patient brother was all different.

"Get up! Common, common!" Dean hissed, dragging his little brother to his feet and grabbing his arm in a vice-like grip.

Sam tried to pry his arm free. Dean was hurting him.

"Ouch!" he yelled, letting Dean stop again, his eyes turning a little darker.

"Shut up, Sam!" he didn't let go and kept on going, his strides even faster now.

They stopped before the dumbwaiter.

Sam almost shuddered with cold now. What was going on?

"Dean…" he whined, tears starting to prick in his eyes.

"I said be quiet." Dean didn't seem to care.

He opened the doors to the small elevator and picked Sam up.

Sam suddenly knew what was gonna happen and started to struggle in earnest now.

"No! No! I don't want to… it's dark in there! Stop it!"

"Sam shut up! There's no time! Get in there!" Fighting with his brother to get him in the dumbwaiter, Dean could hear footsteps from downstairs. He was stunned for a moment as Sam's foot connected with his jaw.

"Let me out, Dean! I don't want to be there! Please, please! Let me out."

"Sammy!" with force Dean grabbed his brother on his upper arms and shook him.

"Sam! Sam, do you listen?" he could feel the fine hair on the back of his neck rise.

"Do you trust me? Sammy!" He watched the small tear strained face nodding.

"Then do as I say. Nothing's gonna happen. You stay in there. And you be quiet. WHATEVER you hear…" Dean's voice was barely a whisper now. "Whatever you hear. Stay. And be quiet. I gonna get you. Promise, okay?"

He felt the tremors running up and down in his small brother's body. He pushed him back and watched into his brothers huge, frightened eyes.

"I'm your brother. I wont let anything happen to you."

With that he closed the doors to the elevator and darkness engulfed the small boy.

...

Sammy listened to his hitched breathing while he tried to stay calm and quiet, just as his brother had told him to.

He knew something bad was going on. Somehow he knew it. He wanted out of here. He could see shadows moving by his hiding-place, something scraping along the wall and the cold grew steadily. He bit down hard to not chatter with his teeth, and watched hoarfrost starting to blossom on the door.

He closed his eyes in fright as he saw the shadow stop in front of his hiding-place.

A shout followed by a shot and a loud hiss and something hitting the door to his hideout hard. Sammy flinched and pushed himself further into the corner of the small compartment.

He almost cried out as the dumbwaiter suddenly started to move. In panic now, he started to shout: "Dean! Dean! I wanna outta here! Help me! Dean, please let me out! Let me out!" He started to kick at the walls but stopped dead as a shot echoed down to him from high above.

He could hear noises now. Loud and angry shouting, followed soon by another shot.

As the dumbwaiter stopped everything went dead quiet.

Sammy sat unmoving in the small elevator now, he could feel his heart beating hard and fast, his breath coming in small little gasps and sweat running down his face.

Another shot fell and Sammy whimpered, his hands wandering up to his ears, pushing down hard to keep the noise out, his eyes shut tightly.

...

After Dean had shut the doors to the dumbwaiter he'd run for his shot-gun, feeling the cold grew steadily. He knew what was going on.

He saw her coming up the stairs, white dress, her skin silky and pale, an invisible breeze letting her hair and dress flutter. She stopped on top of the stairs, just as he had done a few minutes ago and turned to him.

Her face remained devoid of expression. Then her mouth opened and she smiled at him. A deadly smile, and suddenly he was sure she knew that he wasn't alone.

She stopped beside the doors of the dumbwaiter, a mockingly snarl marring her features as she turned towards it.

And that was all conviction Dean needed.

With a angry shout, he rose his gun and pulled the trigger, at the same moment as her mind's power send him flying forward. He connected hard with the wall beside the door hiding his brother and turned around just in time as she reappeared in front of him.

He stretched his arm to reach the button with his fingertips and pushed down, sending the small elevator downwards.

Her angry scream, mixed with his painfilled one as she again threw him against the wall.

Anew he levered the shotgun and pulled the trigger.

With a feral screech she dissipated, her power withdrew from him and Dean sank to his knees.

The cell-phone!

Searching his pockets he dialed, waiting for the call to connect. The lights started to flicker again.

"Yeah!"

"It's here!" he screamed into the phone, listening to the static that answered him… only bits and pieces could he hear of his dad's response.

He could feel the pressure around him fall as she returned, and he knew she was pissed now.

The lamps along the hallway exploded as she rematerialized at the other end of the floor, her blue eyes catching his gaze… entrancing him, killing every coherent thought within him.

The ice blossomed from inside his chest, spreading, freezing him while her gaze held him captive.

He felt her mind grabbing again for him forcing him towards her, her arms already spread wide to embrace him.

From far he could hear a high pitched scream and something in that sound made him shudder.

Her embrace kills…Sammy…

Only a few steps parted them now… as he fought to get the upper hand on his body.

The arm that still held onto the shotgun came up ever so slowly and right before her hands touched him he shot again… the blast propelling him backwards as she screamed in rage, dissipating. Dean fell to his knees, panting in and out…

Out! Out of the house! Sammy!

He jumped to his feet, as he heard the door downstairs crash open and his Dad's loud voice. "Dean! Dean!"

He stumbled down the stairs, already feeling her gathering strength again.

"You get outta here!" he was stopped by a hard hand on his shoulder and he shrugged it off with force, turning around to face his father. "Sammy…" he said, his eyes meeting his father's gaze, daring him... and John simply nodded.

"Hurry!"

He rushed down the stairs to the basement and skidded to a stop in front of the dumbwaiter.

How much time had passed since his promise?

Fumbling with the door he ripped it open, only to breathe heavily at the smell that assaulted his nostrils.

Sammy had soiled his pants. He was pressed in the furthest corner of the compartment, his eyes scrunched close, his small hands over his ears, sweat running down his little brother's face, plastering his hair to his head and forehead while he mumbled something incoherently.

Dean heard the screech upstairs. Without a second thought he grabbed his little brother under the armpits and pulled him out of the elevator.

The little boy wrapped his arms and legs around Dean's body in a reflex, clinging to him and almost making it impossible to breathe.

"Let me outta here, please…" Dean could hear the incoherent ramble of his distraught sibling.

"Gottcha Sammy, gottcha! We gonna get outta here now, okay?"

He soothed while he started up the stairs.

Sam continued to whisper and he answered his whispered pleas with soothing nonsense.

A shot followed by the screech of the creature came from upstairs and Sammy cried out in fright, letting Dean hurry to leave the house and seek sanctuary for both of them in the Impala.

...

He'd wrapped Sam's trembling form into a blanket, ignoring his brother's soiled clothes for now. They'd deal with that later.

As he sat there, his brother on his lap, he could finally feel Sammy relax against him, his breathing evening out at some point, indicating that Sam fell asleep. But that didn't stop him to run his hand soothingly up and down his brother's back.

Also he felt tired, he straightened, as he saw the figure of his father appear in the door.

John Winchester walked over to the car, his gaze set on his son's situated in the backseat.

Opening the door, he crouched down to be eye level with Dean.

He watched his son for a moment, trying to read his mind.

"You got it?" Dean asked silently.

John nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"You okay sport?" he asked back, his hands going through his hair, messing it.

"I'm okay…" Dean shrugged, running his hand up and down Sammy's back again. He could feel him shift on his lap.

"How's Sammy?" his father investigated further.

"I… he… he was frightened, but otherwise…" Dean stopped, looking at his father feeling the lump build in the back of his throat.

"Dean…" his father's hand dropped on his shoulder, letting him wince slightly.

"I… I… had to hide him. Sammy's always hiding under the bed. That wasn't safe… he needed to be somewhere safe. I… I didn't want to scare him… but…"

"Dean…" the pressure on his shoulder grew.

"I forced him to hide in the dumbwaiter…" Dean's gaze fell and at the same time the hand on his shoulder withdrew.

Sammy mumbled something in his sleep, as he snuggled closer to his brother.

"Dean…" John forced his oldest chin up.

"… You know, son. You did great today." John watched as he saw a small sparkle grow in Dean's eyes.

"You did a great job in protecting your brother. I saw what happened upstairs, and Sammy was more safe where you put him then anywhere else."

"Then why do I feel so guilty…" He almost missed the words.

"Because… sometimes you have to hurt the people you love to keep them safe… let's go inside, shall we?"

Dean sat there, staring at his father, and then on the small form on his lap.

"I think Sammy would rather stay in a motel-room tonight, Dad…" he answered.

John contemplated the words for a moment.

"We just need two Queen's… Sammy can… stay with me." Dean rambled on, letting John smile slightly. He winked at him.

"I didn't say no, did I? Let's go okay?"

Dean settled back, closing his eyes as he heard the Impala's engine rumble to life.

Kissing the top of Sammy's hair he whispered:

"I'm sorry Sammy. I didn't want to frighten you. But I had to keep you safe…"

FIN... maybe