Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or his characters. While I did not think of it when I began this story, some of you may later on find a similarity between my concept of spirits and Rachel Aaron wonderful books serie "legend of Eli Montpress".
Author note: This is unbetaed even if I did check for errors, do not hesitate to tell me if some remained. This story is an AU so some things will be different from the TV show. I welcome constructive criticism and reviews :)
Ten years old Dean was annoyed.
Dad had left Dean and Sammy in yet another motel while he went to hunt a Shtriga that was operating in the area. It was a really important job because this Shtriga went after young children, at the same period of time during 5 days every 25 years so Dad had to nail it quickly before it disappeared again.
But it had already been three days with no sign of Dad, no kid disappearance on the news, no more money left from Dad for food, Sammy had finished the all-brains this morning without even proposing some to Dean and had been whining how he was still hungry and Dean why don't you do something about it.
So Dean was annoyed. Even pissed if he admitted it to himself. Pissed at Dad for always underestimating how much things cost and how long he would be gone. Pissed at Sammy for not understanding why he shouldn't have eaten all the cereals for break-feast even if it wasn't his little brother fault as Dean tried hard to make sure Sammy didn't need to know that kind of things. He would almost be pissed at the world if it didn't lead to think about Mum and no thank you it hurt way too much to go there.
Still, Dean was pissed, and famished as all growing boys when they have not had anything since dinner the night before.
Dean wasn't sure about what to do. He had some cash in his emergency stash that he had won by doing some odd jobs like washing cars or mowing gardens when he could. He even won some by repairing the bike of a nice lady whom also gave him cookies for his pain. But he preferred to be careful with it, in case they needed it for something big, like medicine for Sammy when Dad wasn't there.
He knew he was still too young to safely try hustling pool without Dad, especially with the kind of men he had seen at the bar yesterday, but he had seen a baby-foot in the motel hall, and thought it might be enough for the day if he played his cards right and shopped carefully enough.
Decision made, he checked the protections of the room - he had checked them the night before but you never were too careful- strapped his knife to his leg, hidden by his faded jeans and checked that his pocket one was -as usual- in his pocket. Letting Sammy in front of the ninja turtles with a reminder not to open to anyone but Dad or himself, and only after getting the right password, that was met with a "I'm not a baby Deeeean", he rolled his eyes and went to tempt his luck.
2 hours later, Dean was feeling a lot better. He had managed to get some older kids as well as a few truckers with time to kill in several games and was now on his way to the groceries. He thought he had enough to treat Sammy and himself with some apple pie in addition of pasta for lunch, hamburgers for dinner and all-brains for breakfast tomorrow morning. By then, he hoped Dad would have wrapped up the case and they could all celebrate in a dinner with steaks and milkshakes. And before lunch, he would take the time to care for Baby and make her shine. Their father had rented a trunk for this hunt because the roads were hard and there was a big chance that the Shtriga's lair was deep in the woods. Even if Shtriga could take a human form during the day, it seemed they liked to have a cave of some sort to rest after a feeding. According to his father, Shtriga were vulnerable after having suck the life force from their prey and so they usually chose a place hidden well away from any habitations or well used roads. Anyway, it gave Dean the opportunity to apply what his father and Bobby had taught him about cars mechanics and maintenance and he loved to spend time on the impala.
The rest of the day went well, Sammy declaring his undying love for "Dean's bestest pastas in the world", both boys enjoying the pie and then settling down in front of some Disney cartoon. They also did some homework, with Dean teaching Sammy some more advanced maths because his little brother was bored in his class. While books could teach Sammy a lot -he devoured and memorised anything age appropriate and above that Dean could find him, be it history, biology, mythology, anything - he did better in maths with an actual teacher. The fact that sciences, and maths in particular, were Dean's best classes was just the icing on the cake.
They played Dean's survivor game, a kind of hide and seek where you had to defend yourself when you had been caught and that Dean had imagined to teach Sammy how to defend himself against monsters -both humans and non-humans- while protecting the kid's innocence. Dean usually had Sammy figure out which "monster" was seeking him and use the proper defense moves accordingly until he was satisfied, else DeanTheMonster would tickle his prey to death with no mercy.
At 9pm, Sammy was fast asleep in bed after a day well spent and a tummy full, and Dean was ... Restless.
He had checked the protections and redrawn some of them, he had cleaned the room from their afternoon game and dinner, but now that it was time to sleep, his mind was giving him ideas he shouldnt have.
After spending on the groceries and putting some cash in his emergency stash, Dean still had a few coins he could spend as he wished. There were some arcade games near the babyfoot that had been calling to him like sirens since they had arrived almost 4 days ago and Dad still wasnt here and as much as he loved Sammy, a guy had the right to have some fun time on his own, right?
After trying to watch the TV - quietly not to wake his brother - with no success as none of the shows managed to hold his attention away from the games he could be playing, Dean finally cave in and went to the games, but only after leaving a note to Sammy in case he woke up and carefully locking the door -Sammy had a spare in case of fire and for others dangers, they had made him a secret hideout in the rooms like they always Dean when they first moved in a new place.
Dean was hurrying quietly toward the motel. The games were a blast, and the owner had been nice enough to offer him a few free rounds as there were not many customers that night. Which meant it was way past the time he should have been back, and he had only realised it because the owner had kindly asked him if his parents would not be waiting for him as it was nearing midnight.
Still, Dean was very happy with his evening, he had even found a beautifully carved and still working lighter in the games, when he had to look for a coin that had slipped from his fingers in his haste to play. It was a nice addition to his pocket knife and leg-knife, as Dad thought he was still a little young to have a flame-thrower of his own. Dean had argued that he used fire and gas daily to cook but Dad had stood firm on this point. Still, he was sure he would have his own gun for his next birthday, as he almost never missed a target during training any more.
Quietly opening their room's door, for once hoping his father wasn't there yet, Dean froze in his tracks. Some old white ugly women was standing over Sammy's bed, and Dean was pretty sure it was THE Shtriga his father was looking for. The creature slowly turned its head toward Dean, looking at him, evaluating him then dismissing him in what felt an eternity. It then turned back to Sammy, who still appeared to be asleep, and Dean knew with deep certainty that he had only one move before it took his little brother by the open window.
"Protect Sammy" had been Dean's default mode since the night he had seen Mum on fire on the ceiling and been given his little brother to protect afterwards. It had also been his sole reason to move through the fog of his hurt: protect Sammy, feed Sammy, diaper change Sammy, take care of Sammy. In these days, Sammy and the familiar rumble of the impala's engine while his Dad drove from state to state, looking for answers, had been the only things that made Dean feel something else than the loss of Mum. So he just jumped on the threat to his brother while taking the lighter from his pocket. Dean landed on the thing and crouched his legs to hold on to it, one hand taking hold of its hair to try and maintain his equilibrium as he put the flame on it with his other hand while praying to whatever deity who was out there that it would be enough to make it go away, or better that Dad would arrive right now.
The fire seemed to work as the Shtriga was now shrieking and trying to shake of Dean from itself. Dean was dimly aware that his arm had been ripped by some kind of claw but he concentrated on maintaining the flame on any part of the thing. Suddenly, he felt himself being thrown through the air. And his back was in pain, so much that it was hard to breath. Dean felt his consciousness slip, but he thought he heard Sammy calling for him... Dean managed to turn his head to see his little brother flat on the floor, shouting at him with tears on his face. And above Sammy was his Dad, finishing the damn Shtriga with a flame-thrower.
Dad here, Dean vaguely thought he could black out and knew no more.