A/N: This is totally unlike anything I've ever written before, and I'm not sure how people will respond to it, but my muse decided to sneak up and smack me in the face and wouldn't leave me alone until I sat down with my iPod and put my fingers to the keys. I hope you all like it. :) I would like to dedicate this story to my amazing cousin Tori- who not only helped to inspire the idea behind the story, but also gave it its name. If it weren't for her encouragement, I wouldn't even have the guts to bring my ideas to life. Love you Mini-Me! :D

Disclaimer: I don't own them. But I do own a very overactive imagination and a computer. (A very dangerous combination, no?)

Prologue

Her blonde hair shone in the sunlight as she chased Sam in tiny circles, reaching for him with her little arms. Sam would stop every so often and let her almost catch him. Almost. Every time he evaded her by a fraction of an inch, she would squeal with delight and try that much harder. She was determined.

Finally, he turned on his heels, bent over, and scooped her up in his arms. She giggled madly when he lifted her way up over his head and spun in quick circles. He then tucked her in close to his massive chest and collapsed onto the cool grass- laughing and gasping for air. She lay atop him, a curtain of messy, blonde curls covering her face and hiding her beautiful blue eyes. "You, my friend," he said as he pushed the offending hair away, "are without a doubt the cutest thing to ever walk the Earth."

Her only response was a wide grin that made Sam's heart do a little flip.

Chapter One

Dean let out a weary sigh as he put the Impala into park and shut off the engine. Without a second glance at Sam, he threw his door open and stepped out into the blazing July heat. Bobby's house stood before him, partially hidden by the blinding glare from the sun. As he reached up to shield his eyes, he heard Sam's door open and then close. He'd just spent the last thirteen hours cramped up in the front seat with his gigantic brother. And if he was being honest with himself, he'd spent the last twelve hours resisting the urge to stop the car, shove Sam out, and drive away.

It had been almost two days since Bobby had left a desperate message on Dean's voicemail. A message that had consisted of nothing more than "Get yer asses down here. Now." The boys had rushed to finish their hunt, checked out of their room, jumped in the car, and driven all the way to Sioux Falls. They were dying to know what had Bobby so freaked out.

Now, after finally reaching their destination, they were a little bit more apprehensive. Bobby had seen it all, and it took a lot to scare the experienced hunter. And that's exacly what Dean had heard in Bobby's voice on the short message, fear. Dean was pretty sure that he didn't want to come face to face with something so terrifying that it could make the Bobby Singer temble in fear. But he was a man, and he was going to put on his big boy pants and do what needed to be done.

He shook his head to rid it of the rather greusome ideas that had manifested there, and started up the steps onto the wide porch. He pounded his fist on the old wooden door and yelled, "Bobby! It's us!" He paused for a moment and listened carefully, but heard no response. So he tried again. "Bobby! You in there?"

Finally, the door opened to reveal a very tired looking Bobby. He had bags under his eyes, and an expression that just screamed of sleep deprivation. Dean had seen that face so many times before, usually staring back at him from the cold glass of the mirror. Without so much as a hello, Bobby narrowed his eyes and growled, "Shut the Hell up. Just got her to go to sleep. Idjit." It would have been funny if Bobby hadn't looked like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Sam gave Bobby a 'What the Hell are you talking about?' look that was normally reserved for Dean. "Just got who to go to sleep?"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Come with me." He turned and stormed into the house, Dean and Sam on his heels.

He led them up the stairs, down the hall and into a small bedroom. A bedroom that Dean knew all too well. He'd spent about half of his own childhood in that very room. He knew every single chip in the paint. He could tell you which floor boards creaked. He knew everything there was to be known about that room. But that day, there was something new in his room. It lay in the middle of his bed, curled up into a tiny ball. Fragile arms wrapped around scrawny legs, hugging them to a little chest that rose and fell with slow, steady breaths. A mass of pretty blonde curls fanned out across his pillow.

A/N: Good? Bad? Stop?Continue? Let me know. I promise it's gonna get very interesting in future chapters. :) That is, if I get enough reviews. Mwahahaha. :)

-Kari