Chapter Two

"Sam!" Bobby's voice finally broke through the fog of panic that wrapped around the little boy's head. Sam glanced up from Miffy to look at his Uncle Bobby. The gruff older man gently jostled the boy's shoulder.

"Sam, what did you say? About it not being able to come near the house?" Bobby turned back to the snarling raccoon.

The little boy looked up. Now that he was with Dean and Uncle Bobby he knew that everything was going to be okay. They could take care of whatever this thing was. "Mhmmm. Miffy kept pawing the ground just a few feet away from the porch. He looked mad."

Dean looked up at the older man eagerly and could see the gears running. "What do we do Uncle Bobby? What is it?"

"Not sure specifically, but I know for sure it has an aversion to iron. A while ago I dug in a pure circle of iron around the house to keep away anything fae." Bobby didn't need to look down to know that the older boy was giving him an incredulous look. He kept his eyes on the creature but offered a shrug. "I had a weekend off."

"So it's a fairy?" Dean asked. He grabbed his little brother's hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"A fairy?" Sammy frowned. "But they're fictional. 'Sides they have wings and are tiny."

"I don't know." Bobby ignored the little boy's stutter and leaned down, slowly reached for a tire iron. "Only thing I know is we're safer in the house. So when I count to three, you take Sammy to the house as fast as you can."

Dean looked down at the confused and babbling Sammy giving him a shoosh. He turned his attention back to Uncle Bobby when Sammy finally quit asking questions. "What about you?"

"Dean! Just take care of Sammy." Bobby growled he got a firmer grip on tire iron. "Now, get ready to run. One."

Inhaling a deep breath Dean composed himself and tugged on Sam's arm to get his attention. "Now runt, you heard Uncle Bobby. On three we run to the porch. No stopping, and don't let go of my hand."

"Two."

Sammy's eyes widened and he gave a short nod.

Dean braced himself steeling himself against the fear.

"Three."

Bobby rushed forward swinging the tire iron at the snarling creature drawing attention away from the two retreating boys. As much as Dean wanted to stay and help the gruff older man he knew he had a responsibility to take care of his little brother. The second Bobby had shouted three Dean took off in a quick run, dragging Sammy behind him.

His heart beat rose not just from the adrenaline, but from the fear that Sam knew. Dean dreaded this day. He had fought hard and long with his father, on the subject of training. Dean couldn't stop Sammy from learning how to shoot a gun or fight for self defense, but he had made a solid case on keeping Sammy in the dark. However now Sam knew what was out there. His little brother was smart as hell and wouldn't buy any half-baked lie that either Bobby or he could cook up. After today Sam would lose his innocence.

"D'n." Sam gasped his little legs trying to keep up.

"Almost there buddy. Keep it up." He kept Sam at the speed until his foot pounded up the stairs and onto the wooden porch. Seeing that his little brother was winded again Dean shoved his brother down into the rocking chair and forced Sam's head down between his knees. "It'll help." He stated simply. Sam didn't need to hear anything else he kept his head down like Dean wanted him to.

Dean stood back up and puffed in air looking for Uncle Bobby. "Come on, come on."

Seconds seemed to turn into hours while Dean glanced in the direction of the garage, but finally the boy let out a huge relieved breath when he saw his Uncle jog towards them a bloody tire iron in hand, and a hurt and limping Fluffy gripped in his other. Uncle Bobby hopped up the steps and took in the two boys heaving in large breaths.

"Dean! I need you to hold the dog." Bobby ordered a little more bite in his tone than Sam was used to. Once Dean took the fighting dog's collar Bobby opened his front door, and in a single motion had Sammy standing up and shoved into the home. "Bring the dog in and shut the door, but keep holding on to him."

As Dean forced the pup in and shut the door behind him, Bobby took off towards his back door. Dean a second later clearly heard the metal slot slide down on the dog door. Bobby reappeared and took the dog back from the boy.

"You two okay?" Bobby demanded.

Dean glanced over at Sam who was wheezing in breaths against the wall. The older boy walked purposefully towards his little brother and turned him around jerking up his brother's shirt. Dean ignored Sam's breathy protests. "Sam has a few bruises."

"And you?" Bobby stalked toward the couch and pointed his finger in front of the dog's frantic eyes to the ground. Begrudgingly Fluffy obeyed and settled on his stomach. Bobby then held his hand out horizontally and gave a firm stay.

"'M fine Uncle Bobby." Dean insisted. He sat his little brother down again on one of the chairs and looked back at his Uncle. "What about you, Uncle Bobby?"

"I'm good, boy. I got in a few good whacks to the living, sparkling piñata and Fluffy tore around the corner tackling the thing down before it could start slashing at me. When the creature got away and ran off, I had to keep a hold on the damn dog." Bobby rushed out of the living room and into the kitchen where he dug out his first aid kit. When he returned he knelt down and grabbed the rubbing alcohol from the kit. "Boy, help me hold down the dog."

Dean rushed over and put his weight on Fluffy. The boy winced in sympathy as the dog tried to wriggle away from the pain as Bobby started pouring copious amounts of the alcohol over the wounds.

"Well if you hadn't been so foolish, you damn mutt, you wouldn't be in this amount of pain." Bobby groused as he watched the wounds bubble. He'd never admit it, but during the fight between the two animals Bobby had been terrified that he could lose the dog.

"Where are my books?" Sam's question had Dean and Uncle Bobby finally turn their attention towards him.

"Hell of a thing to worry about right now." Dean griped at his little brother.

Bobby paused mid way on applying a cream to the dog's wounds. "No Dean. He has a point. We left Sam's books over by the tree when we brought him in."

Sam got up and trudged towards the window, eyes avoiding the blood. Propped up on his toes he looked out the window and by the tree. "They're gone. My books are gone."

"Balls." Bobby frowned but kept working on his dog. "Get me some gauze Dean. Sam, I need to know. What were your books about? Was that thing one of them?"

The pain blooming from his side made it perfectly clear that this was no dream. Sam was in the real world, and the real world consisted up characters from books coming to life and attacking people. "Miffy the Magical Raccoon. Clifford, he's this giant red dog that's as big as a house. Ollie the Octopus, he drives around in a fish tank car so he can stay on the land. Oh, and the Badgers. They cause trouble, but in the end learn a lesson." Sam paused and bit his lip, for the first time tears started welling in his eyes. "But Miffy is nice. Miffy is about a raccoon that makes friends. Miffy doesn't hurt people. What's going on?"

Dean held the gauze to the dog's side, and leg as Bobby rifled through for a wrap and tape. Both stayed quiet and focused on bandaging the dog. But Sam saw through it. They didn't want to tell him. They knew what was going on but weren't saying anything.

Sam stomped his foot, and folded his arms across his chest; which he regretted when his elbow bounced off of his bruise. "Dean?! What's going on?"

Dean finally looked up an expression that seemed to read fear, anger, and sadness all at the same time. "You don't want to know runt. Let me 'n Uncle Bobby take care of this."

Tears started running. He had kept his cool this entire time. When Fluffy had been bloody he hadn't panicked. He had run the distance to get to Dean and Uncle Bobby and warned them without breaking down. Then he'd run the distance back while Uncle Bobby attacked a Magical character from a fictional childrens book. He had stayed calm and realized that the books were missing just as the Magical Raccoon had appeared in the first place. He was done being sensible. He was done taking orders. He wanted to know what was going on. Why was his world going backwards now?

Dean saw his little brother start to slide down the wall until he was sitting with his face pressed into his hands. Hiccupping breaths shook his body, and large tears dripped from his fingers. "Uncle Bobby...Sam-"

"I know son." Bobby said kindly. He gestured his head towards the little boy. "Go help your brother, I have the dog."

The older boy didn't need to be told twice. He scrambled to his feet rushed to the sobbing form. Careful to avoid the bruise he sat down, pulled his little brother into his lap, and wrapped his arms around the shaking boy. "Sammy. It's okay."

"No-" Sam had to heave in a breath. "I's not- Wha's goin' on?"

"Sam. If I tell you, you won't look at the world the same way." Dean rocked his baby brother hating this moment. "I don't want you to feel in danger of things that shouldn't exist."

Sam drew in another heavy breath and looked at his brother with red rimmed eyes. "Too late."

xxxOOOxxx

Sam laid curled up next to the patched up dog a blanket tugged up to his nose. Dean sat next to the pair carding a hand gently through his little brother's entirely too long curls.

The boy hadn't taken it easily. How could anyone take something like that easily? To learn that the things of myth and legend, the things of darkness, existed and walked among them every day was no easy lesson. It didn't stop there. Sam put together soon afterwards, that his father wasn't a salesman. He'd never really believed that lie to begin with anyway. No his father was the one who stopped those beings from killing, and injuring. Every second that his father was gone, he was risking his life fighting things like Miffy, or worse. And when Dean had refused to talk about mom and how she died Sam pieced that together too. He didn't know how or what, but mom didn't die in a car crash. Mom died from something evil.

Dean was partially grateful when the boy resorted back to his sobs and stopped asking questions. About five minutes later the hiccupping sobs finally started dying down until Sam sat limply in his big brother's lap, head resting on Dean's shoulder and breathing evenly.

Uncle Bobby had retreated a while ago letting the two have their moment. He figured Dean was in charge of what Sammy knew and didn't know. Now he poked his head back into the room and found Dean petting on a sleeping Sammy. Bobby cleared his throat drawing the older boy's attention away from his little brother.

"Dean?" Bobby grumbled low and quiet as to not disturb the sleeping boy. He waited until the older brother finally turned to face him. "I need to talk to you."

The boy hesitated but eventually stood up and stepped away from his little brother's still from. He thought he was being quiet, but Bobby heard the boy mutter a small apology.

"It's not your fault boy." Bobby comforted when he finally joined his uncle. "Your little brother was going to find out about it. I know you and your old man fought about telling him, but John would have eventually told him against your wishes."

"I know. I just wish-" Dean cut off. There was too much to add to the end of that. He wished mom hadn't died. He wished his dad hadn't gone crazy obsessed trying to find the thing that killed her. He wished he and his brother didn't need to learn the crazy harsh training his father pushed on them. He wished Sam could be normal. He wished he could be normal too sometimes. He didn't vocalize any of those ideas though. "So did you find out what this thing is?"

"Yeah." Bobby scrubbed a hand across his face and sighed. He knew the boy had more to say on the matter, but now wasn't necessarily the time for a chick flick heart-to-heart. "I think one of my old friends is up to no good. While you and Sam were talkin' I stepped out-" The older man chortled as Dean gave his best glare. "I know boy, dangerous, but I had a suspicion I had to prove. Anyway I stepped out and searched the lot. Turns out someone summoned a damn Leshii on my property. Last night probably."

"A Leshii?"

"Russian." Bobby nodded. "Woodland spirit who protects wild animals. The father looks more human, and Slavic stories even tell of a wife. Not sure if our raccoon friend is an offspring or just one of the kind, but thankfully isn't daddy."

"Why would someone summon that? There are certainly more terrifying creatures. And why is it attacking us?" Dean asked.

Bobby frowned. "The father is the one who protects. Leshii in general are more like the troublesome children. If they see people in the forest they'll either help or screw around with their heads depending on mood or situation. They will turn signs around so they'll get lost, tickle them to death in some stories, and kidnap woman and children. Most don't make it back when that happens. So don't underestimate the sparkly little bastard. And as to why it's attacking us? I don't know. Once you summon a Leshii you can give it a command. But it didn't seem too intent on killing until later today, and it was summoned yesterday. I imagine Fluffy defending us, pissed it off. Or maybe it doesn't like the lot, it is a forest spirit."

Dean glanced out the window looking for the sparkly creature. The sun was going down though and through the ill light it was hard to see much. Dean didn't like this situation. Uncle Bobby's was supposed to be safe. How could something like this happen?

"How do we kill it?" Dean finally asked.

Bobby dragged out a chair from the table and sank down into it, no longer keen on standing. "Well, there are some ridiculous bits of lore that say if you turn your cloths inside out and switch your shoes around it'll confuse it, or use the sign of a cross. Disproven, long ago. Only things that'll help are fire, jokes, and iron."

"Jokes?" Dean startled at the idea.

"True. Damn badger in a dress out there nearly took out my arm but I told it a good joke and it disappeared laughing. Course the damn thing will show its face again." Bobby glanced up and saw the look of pure amusement on Dean's face. "Boy you crack one joke…"

"What…me joke about you getting attacked by a badger in a dress?" Dean smirked and. "Wait wait, did you tell it 'We don't need no stinkin' badgers?'"

"Keep it up boy. See what happens." Bobby groused. He instantly regretted letting the boy watch that movie. Seeing Dean about to open his mouth again he gave Dean another glare.

"Sorry," Dean reined in his amusement. "What do we do now?"

"Now, we get some sleep." He pointed upstairs when Dean started to protest. "I need to make sure that brother of yours didn't hurt himself too much when he banged into the garage. As far as I'm concerned about the Leshii it can't cause us any danger so long as we stay in the circle, and I'm not about to go outside and take care of this thing in the dark."

Dean stopped arguing and nodded. That was true. They should be safe at the house, and he really had wanted Sam to get looked at. Their long heart to heart kind of postponed that. At one point during the talk Dean had squeezed on his little brother in a loving gesture and gotten a little gasp. Even before then he knew Sam was hurting a little. As much as he tried the kid could never hide injury from his big brother.

In the living room too much of Dean wanted to shove his uncle aside as he picked his little brother up, but he calmed himself. There was a small list of people that he trusted with Sammy and Uncle Bobby sat higher on that list than his own father. Just to be sure though he followed on his uncle's ankles until Sammy was tucked upstairs in their little room. Before sliding up the covers Bobby tugged up the little boy's shirt and triaged his stomach. Dean let out a heavy breath as the older man informed him it was just a bruise. He'd be black and blue and a little sensitive for at most a week, but the kid should be fine.

Before Bobby left to keep watch downstairs, he grinned as Dean crawled into his little brother's bed and careful of the bruise wrapped the little boy into his arms. Sammy didn't wake up, but he did gently move until his head pressed into his big brother's chest and grabbed a fistful of Dean's shirt for comfort.

He'd let them sleep. Maybe get a few hours of sleep himself before he'd have to take care of that damn badger, or raccoon. Whatever the Leshii was choosing to wear at the time.

A/N- Thank you for making it to the end of chapter two. Please leave a review if ya liked it, or even if ya noticed something off with spelling or phrasing. I don't mind. I try and read through these things but mistakes slip through every so often.