I am still in the process of posting World, its just been a while since I've written anything, so when this hit one night I stayed up and wrote it. It's a short one-shot, but I kind of had fun writing it haha. It is getting colder here after all...

Disclaimer: Until Santa realizes I've been an absolute angel this year and delivers the boys down my chimney, they're not mine.
AN: The boys don't have specific ages, but they be wee li'l things they be. There's one swear word I think and no spoilers for anything. Hope you enjoy. -grin-

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The first time I was conscious of anything outside, that kid was standing in front of me, a goofy smile plastered on his face. His mitten-covered hands gripped a large red knit scarf, and I knew he was intent on wrapping it around my neck.

A woman with long blonde hair lifted him up, and together they put the finishing touch on me. Once the scarf was in place, the woman set the child down and they both clapped their delight. My imbedded smile forced me to appear to share their happiness, but inside I was seething.

I do not know where I came from, or how I came to be, but I do know what I am and where I am going.

As the woman and the boy turned away from me, I began to shake slightly until one of my arms fell free.

The little boy ran back towards me, intent on placing my arm back into position. As soon as he placed a small hand on me for support as he reached up, I attacked. His mother's scream registered, but I focused on the struggling and crying form. I pulled until he was in up to his shoulder, pulled until half his chest was in, and with one last yank I had him.

His mother's claws dug into me on the outside, and I could feel the panicking child clawing from the inside. It didn't matter; they wouldn't be reaching each other any time soon.

As the cold began to take over, the child's struggles grew weaker, yet surprisingly the mother's stayed strong.

In a matter of moments, it was over. The child was gone.

---

Soon I mastered the art of moving. I skipped around, taking only one or two children at a time. Never any more. I knew of those who would catch on to me, who would be after me, and who could possibly stop me. I was only able to move from certain house to house, but it wasn't long before I could move town to town, or even state to state.

Later, you might say I became reckless and cocky. And perhaps I did. I stayed in one area too long, found the perfect residence. The weather was becoming warmer, so I was also becoming desperate. The area I had settled in was heavily populated, and I had my choice. I could be picky for once.

"Sam, Dean, stay close."

"Okay Dad. Sam, get behind me."

A small family approached me one night shortly before midnight. A taller man who could use a shave was followed at a distance by two small boys. The taller boy had his arm held protectively in front of the other, and at this time I knew I had been caught. They reeked of the supernatural, and I knew they were Hunting.

Well, I wasn't going down without a fight.

The man pulled out a small water bottle, and I caught a small glimpse of a cross in his fist as it caught the light. I silently hissed as he poured a generous amount of the blessed liquid on my head, but I was powerless to move or stop him. A new host was not close enough, and I hadn't fed in the past few hours. I felt the pull at the familiar and hated words that accompanied the water, the pain that began to tear through my gut.

Just then, something happened that no one expected. Least of all myself.

" 'no-man!" the little one yelled, and bolted towards me. The taller one was caught off guard, tripping and falling in his haste to catch the small bundle. The man dropped his Latin bible, and grabbed at the little one by the hood of his small coat.

A small hand reached for me, the boy's forward momentum tearing him from the precarious grasp of his father and sending him straight into me.

His small body enabled easy digestion, and I had him fully before they could both scream "Sammy!"

The father held the taller boy back. "Dean! We have to finish the exorcism!" dear old Daddy commanded as he bent to retrieve his items. "Do not go near It!"

"Yes sir!" the boy yelled in return. His hands fisted, and he stared at me with a pure hatred I couldn't even pull off. I was suddenly no longer afraid of the man holding the book. Just a few more moments and the boy would succumb, giving me more than enough to make my next move.

The little one stayed strong though, his voice growing hoarse as the cold began to seep into his lungs. I could hear his little heartbeat slow, and I knew he didn't have long. He'd lasted longer than any of the others, and I realized I didn't have enough time.

The father read faster, and the other boy had now taken to dousing me heavily with the holy water. Just as the little one began to fade away, I felt myself being torn from this world.

The heat of the flames as I fell welcomed me home.

---

"Sammy!" Dean screamed in panic after he saw the last of the black cloud disperse.

"Start digging," John calmly instructed, "but make sure you slow as you reach the middle. We don't want to hurt him."

In only seconds, something that seemed to take much longer, they found the edge of Sam's blue coat. Dean reached up and pushed at the sides, grunting in satisfaction as the snow began to fall away. John pushed at the rest, and was able to get a good grip on his child's sleeve.

Sam stiffly fell from the small prison, his pale skin and blue lips startling both Winchesters as they brushed at the rest of the snow.

"Dean, run ahead and start the car, turn on the heat." Without question Dean turned and sprinted for the car.

"Da-daddy?" Sam began to shiver violently, something John never thought he would have been glad to see.

"You're okay Sam," John crooned, tightening his grip on the small body.

"Did…did I…fa-a-all….asleep…outsi-ide a-ag-again?"

"Only for a moment," John returned. "Only for a moment."

---

The warm up process had been hell. John had seen enough cases of near-hypothermia in his time; he knew you had to slowly warm the body to avoid making matters worse.

Sam had slept through most of it, whining every time John had woken him up. He simply wanted to make sure he could wake his baby boy up.

Dean, he had been a different story. Countless times he had to reassure his son that a slow warm up was best. It had taken about three hours to get Sam back up to normal body temperature, and another two to get his skin to follow suit. Dean hadn't been happy until his brother had felt warm to the touch, so each hour had been filled with endless questions on repeat.

Finally, when John had been satisfied with Sam's condition, he'd forced Dean into the shower and finally into bed. This hunt had taken a lot out of the boys; they'd chased that damn snowman-possessing demon across three states.

Raking a trembling hand through disheveled hair, John took a last look at his sleeping boys before stepping into the bathroom himself.

His shower was brief; he didn't want to leave them alone for long. By the time he reentered the room, he was pleased to find them still asleep. Dean had a small arm wrapped around Sam's shoulders, who in turn was huddled into Dean's side.

Dropping warily onto the bed closest to the door, John took a cherished moment to simply watch his boys.

He didn't want to think about how close he'd come to losing both of them that night. Countless other kids had been sucked inside that snowman, dying from the extreme cold in a matter of minutes. Instead, he thought about how quickly little Sam had rushed towards his harmless snowman.

"Can Sam start staying in the car?" Dean suddenly voiced, startling John.

"Yeah, dude, that sounds awesome," John replied, realizing Dean had just answered the question he had been asking himself. "Now get back to sleep."

Just as he turned out the light, he heard his eldest mutter, "Take that Frosty."

---SN---

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!!

-Kris