The cold, mid-December air swirled through the streets of New York City, thoroughly chilling everyone and everything still out at the late hour of the night and sending fat snowflakes tumbling about in the breeze. Sam rubbed his sleeve over the frosty window to clear away the fog and gazed out at the world he'd never been allowed to experience. He sat on the windowsill and wondered what it would be like to be a normal kid. A kid with loving parents who would take him on outings and tell him stories, and even be there to take care of him when he was sick. He soon abandoned that train of thought, however; it only succeeded in making him upset.

Small, pathetic whimpers sounded from behind him. Turning around, Sam found Garth in the throws of yet another nightmare. This made it the third time this week. Sighing to himself, he planted his feet on the cold floor and made to go over to Garth and calm him down just as the others noticed the noise, too.

"Not again," Raphael moaned.

"Wake up, Garth," Uriel wined, "and shut it."

"Yeah," Victor agreed. "Shut up!"

"Hey! Leave him alone," Ash piped up, defending the younger boy and climbing out of bed.

"You wanna make me?" Uriel challenged, also on his feet.

The two boys started fighting and were quickly joined by the rest of the orphans, none of whom could resist a good fight. Gabriel and Balthazar joined Ash in defending Garth, while Michael, Raphael, and Zachariah ganged up with Victor and Uriel. The room was soon full of noise as the boys started shouting, and Sam knew that that was not a good thing for them to be doing, especially late at night.

Climbing up onto one of the beds, he succeeded in making himself taller than the rest of the orphans. "Stop it, all of you!" Sam cried as loud as he dared, jumping back down to the floor once he has gotten their attention and pulling the boys apart. No one was quite sure when it happened, but Sam had become the leader of the group of orphans; without parents to tell them what to do, everyone listened to Sam. "If Crowley wakes up, we're done for. Now go to sleep," he ordered, turning back to comfort Garth as the others shuffled back to their beds, frowning at the early end to their fun for the night.

"You okay, Garth?" he asked softly, sitting down next to him on the bed and gently running a soothing hand over his back. Garth nodded and let out another small whimper, curling up against Sam's side.

"I want my mommy and daddy," he whispered sadly.

"Hey, Garth?" Victor crooned, and Sam knew that tone. Victor was gearing up for trouble. "We ain't got no mommies and daddies. And we're never gonna have them, either." He snorted and rolled his eyes before finishing his thoughts. "There's a reason we're called 'orphans'."

"I'm not an orphan!" Sam shot back defensively. "My folks are out there somewhere and they're coming back for me! I've even got a note to prove it."

"That old thing?" Michael scoffed from across the room. Sam had read it aloud so many times, each and every kid in the orphanage had it memorized. To them, they were meaningless words by now. Sam had been in the orphanage for eleven years, now, and they were all fairly sure that if Sam's parents were coming for him, they would have been there by now. Sam, however, never gave up hope. It didn't seem like he'd be giving hope anytime in the near future, either.

"I know it doesn't mean anything to you, but it means the world to me," he said. "It means that I've still got parents, and if I wait long enough, I'll get to be with them again. So back off, and go to sleep."

The boys grumbled softly, but did as they were told, crawling under the thin, scratchy blankets that covered their beds. They were asleep within minutes.

Sam sighed, looking over the misfit group of abandoned children and straightening their blankets before returning to him own bed. He tried to follow his own orders and sleep, but was awake again in half an hour. He sat up just as the clock outside struck three, sending slightly muffled chimes through the large room, and made a decision on the spot.

He slid to the floor, reaching under his bed and grabbing the small sack filled with the few possessions he had. He also kept a flashlight stored under his thin mattress and pulled that out as well, knowing he would need it.

"Now what?" Zachariah groaned, hearing Sam's movements and leaning over the side of his bed to look at him.

Sam stood up, rolling his eyes. "I'm getting out of here," he said, switching on the flashlight and walking over to the door.

"Again?" It wasn't the first time Sam had tried to run away. He never made it out of the orphanage, but that never stopped him from trying. All of the others thought that he should have given up on trying to escape by now, but as long as his parents were out there, there was no way that he would just sit and wait when he could be trying to find them.

Sam twisted back and fixed Zachariah with a furious gaze that shut him up within a matter of seconds. "Watch out for Garth," he said to anyone who would listen, pushing the door open and disappearing into the dark hall.

"Better hope you don't get caught again," Gabriel mocked with a grin as Sam left. Sam ignored him.

It was an old building with cracks in walls and worn out floors, but Sam had been there his whole life. He could practically navigate the place with his eyes closed, so he knew perfectly well which steps squeaked and which ones didn't. Upon reaching the first floor, he paused for a moment to make sure Crowley was still asleep. Not hearing anything coming from the man's room, Sam tiptoed the rest of the way to the door.

The door, as Sam had predicted, was lock. There were three separate locks on it, so Sam reached up to the top one, turning it slowly until it clicked. He did the same for the next one, and the next. With the door unlocked, he held his breath and reached for the handle, freedom within his reach. Unfortunately, he hadn't even managed to pull the door open more than an inch when a large hand shot out of the shadows behind him, slamming the door back shut.

"Boo."