Be Afraid of the Dark- Devil's After Me Verse

Sam is certain there is something in the closet watching them. It has for a while now. He tries to be brave. His siblings help, but he's even happier when John comes back from a hunt. If anything can get rid of the monster, he can. He didn't intend the conversation to go this direction though. From 1-2-3 AU verse.

Sam: 9

Nat: 12

Dean:13

"When I told dad I was afraid of the thing in the closet he gave me a .45!"

"What else was he supposed to do?"

"I was nine years old, he was supposed to say, 'don't be afraid of the dark.'"

"Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there!"

John hated leaving his children. He really did, especially when he was gone longer than he promised. He killed the engine of the impala and rolled up to the hotel's door. Three weeks. He hadn't seen his children in three weeks. It was supposed to be four days. Sighing, he climbed out of the car, his joints complaining from the long drive with few stops. It was getting harder and harder to go full speed all the time.

He already felt old.

Loaded down with all his bags and gear, he stumbled tiredly to the door, key in hand. He pushed the door open, and stepped over the undisturbed layer of salt by the door. He heard the tell-tale click of the safety being taken off a gun. He looked up, a warry smile on his face, Dean was awake, his back pressed to Sam' who was snuggled into his sister, who, also woke, probably at the gun being readied, she was half sitting up, and was curled protectively around Sam, arms covering his chest.

"It's me kiddos, back to sleep." He reached for the holy water they kept at the ready by the door and took a swig of the stale water.

Dean put the safety back on the gun, and stuffed it back under his pillow. He dropped off back to sleep almost instantly.

John set all his things on the small table by the window; he didn't feel much like sleeping yet. He wanted to write in his journal about this weird new spirit he'd encountered.

Cihuateteo. The 'divine woman.' She was a bitch to get rid of. Three dead children, one man just vanished, and two more children he wasn't in time to save. He sighed again, and just watched his children sleep, safe in sound in their bed.

Sam made a small noise in his sleep and both siblings responded, Natalie moving her other arm to hold him against her, and Dean turning over to face him. They were a tangle of limbs, it was hard to tell who was who exactly under the covers. It made John smile.

Dawn was starting to color the sky outside when he heard his youngest breathe a whisper, "dad?"

"yeah sport?" he asked looking up.

"I'm stuck, I can't move."

Chuckling he got up and stood at the foot of the bed. Through the hours of early morning his siblings hold on him had only gotten tighter. "It's still early, why don't you go back to sleep?"

"Cant, gotta go."

Smiling again, he pulled the covers off their feet, finding Sam's feet was the easiest to spot . Sam's feet were almost bigger than his brother's. he grabbed his ankles, "Ready?" he asked, at Sam's nod, he just smiled, "Arms up." Sam stretched his arms up so John could slip Sam out of Natalie's and Dean's hold.

Once he was free he stood up off the bed and quickly disappeared into the bathroom.

Shaking his head he sat back down to skim his other notes, he quickly flipped past his notes on ghouls. He wasn't in the mood to think about that hunt today.

Sam came back, yawning so wide John thought his mouth would split. Sam's eyes wandered to the untouched bed adjacent to his and his siblings' bed. "Did you sleep at all?" he yawned again.

"Nah, I'll sleep this afternoon. We're heading out tonight after dinner."

Sam nodded "Okay," instead of crawling back in bed, he slid into the chair opposite his dad. "I don't like this room very much. Glad to be leaving."

John chuckled, this room was almost exactly like the last one, and the time before, and the time before that. Definitely better than the abandoned cottage they stayed in three months ago. However, he had been kept inside for nearly a month, and his pale skin was a testament to how little time he'd been in the sun the past few weeks. "Sorry I had you cooped up here so long. We'll probably swing by Bobby's soon and you, Nat and Dean can get some much needed sun."

"It's been cold." Sam shrugged, "it's not about not leaving the room really… I didn't mind this time, but…" Sam's hands were fidgeting with an extra hotel pen that was scattered on the table.

"'But' what, Sammy?" he asked, trying to prompt him.

"Don't be mad?" he asked.

"How about you tell me and then I'll decide," he said calmly, and leaned back in his chair.

"About last Christmas," he started.

"Sam," John sighed, "I told you I couldn't help it," he snapped.

"No, I know, it's not about that, I know you tried, and it's okay, really!" he tried to say quickly, holding his hands in a pacifying gesture.

"Then what is it?" He asked, calming down, worried he'd scared Sam into telling him what was clearly starting to bug the kid.

Biting his chapped lip in thought, he grimaced a little, "While Dean was sleeping…I kinda…read your journal." It was a half lie. Dean would have gotten in trouble if Sam confessed the true story of Dean leaving to gamble to get more cash to buy them food.

John sighed. He knew it was a matter of time before his youngest found out about everything. Sam had been giving him odd looks for years now. Eyebrows always scrunched, like he was putting together one of the big, 500 piece puzzles. But Sam had known this whole year. It was nearing the end of October now. Which was why he had to get his kids to Singer Salvage soon. He hated being on the road during that anniversary.

"Is that all you wanted to tell me?" John asked.

"Sort of…I just wondered…can monsters magically appear places? Like…the closet?"

"Come again?" John asked. Sam hadn't been afraid of things in his closet since he was 5. And Dean, the age Sam was now, had put a stop to it by standing in it and yelling to the celling to leave his brother alone…or else. "You think there's something in your closet?" He asked, wondering if it was the over active imagination of childhood, or if Sam had had another one of his nightmares. The nightmare seemed most likely considering the snuggle buddies Sam had this morning.

"Okay, come'ere, I'm gonna show you something."

Sam stood and leaned into his father's side; John went ahead and pulled Sam onto his lap as he pulled out the EMF meter. "This checks for ghost and spirits, you'll learn how the air feels too when there's a ghost, it will feel cold physically, but there will also be a wrongness about the air. You'll feel it right here…" He said, gently brushing the back of Sam's neck the wrong way, making him shiver, but he quickly nodded, saying he understood. "Because sometimes, this thing?" He shook it in his hand, "can be absolutely worthless, the spirit isn't around or being active enough to do anything. Sometimes Nat can see them and the thing isn't even going off. Or, it will go crazy and the only thing around is the living, and powerlines."

"Is it only for ghosts?" Sam asked.

"Yes, it's only good for ghosts."

"I don't think the thing in the closet is a ghost…we'd feel it."

John sighed, "Every monster has a weakness, some, less weaknesses than others. Do you know a Wendigo's weakness?"

"That's the monster of the man that turned because he ate someone, right?" At john's nod, Sam looked up a second, trying to recall the info he read nearly a year ago. "Fire." He said, certain.

"Very good. You don't have to worry about them here, they don't stray from the woods. Werewolves?" he tested next.

"Silver, that one's easy. Any kind of thing that changes form is allergic to silver like shapeshifters and skin walkers."

"Very good." John said. "And one of the most important things to remember, what are demons…" deciding to use Sam's choice of word for it, "allergic to?" (to be fair, it made sense.)

"Salt. They can't touch it, Holy water, anything blessed by a Pastor or Priest,"

"Or blessed in general, the credentials help, but if you needed to, and knew the prayer for it, you could bless anything."

"Really?"

John nodded. "And there's one more thing to keep a demon away, what is it?"

"A trap."

John smiled a little, Sam was a little too smart at times, this being one of them, once information was in his head, and there was no getting rid of it. "And something else to remember, if it bleeds, you can kill it. Some monsters, are easy, some monsters you can kill with just a bullet. Some, however, need a consecrated iron others, run of the mill work just fine. You just have to know if it's a head shot to aim for, or a heart. Sometimes you'll have to know, 'cuz them sons of bitches can be fast, and you won't have time for guess work." He pulled one more thing out of his duffle. "Which is why, I'm giving you this." He set the .45 down in front of him. San wasn't sure how a gun, a weapon to kill could be pretty. It had an engraved side, the handle white. Sam wondered if Dean had seen this one. Sam knew it would be his brother's favorite.

"I'm giving this to you to borrow for a while. We're gonna go practice this week, and we'll find one that fits you. We'll have you up to expert marksmen by New Year."

Sam just eyed the gun, he'd never been allowed to even touch one before, and now he was expected to start shooting? And that soon? "Okay Dad." He said, and slid off his lap. It was still early morning and he was still rubbing sleep from his eyes. "I think I'm gonna go back to sleep for a bit."

"Okay Sport." He pulled same into a quick hug and kissed his head. "Just something to remember, fear is a good thing, it keeps you thinking. The moment you are not scared, and things are going wrong, its time to get outta dodge, understand?"

"Yes sir." Sam nodded seriously.

"Okay." He gently nudged Sam in the direction of the bed, a small smile on his face, "Sleep well."

"Good morning." He said with a cheeky smile and walked to the foot of the bed, and crawled under the covers and practically slithered back to his spot between his siblings.

John waited till all three of them were all sound asleep again before kicking off his shoes and quietly treading to the closet door. He had a silver knife handy in his belt and a holy water flask in his pocket. He opened the door, just to check. All that was there was dust bunnies, and an odd symbol carved into the back, mostly covered by the wooden paneling. Not deeming it important he closed the door tightly and walked away.

There was nothing that was getting to his kids. And that included made up terrors in motel room closets.

Next: Sam's first shooting lesson.