Still don't own Supernatural. Not suing would be appreciated. I have no money, I promise, so please just let me use the brilliant characters.

There's still some fluff, but it's completely overruled by other things. I also gave you some answers….and some questions. Enjoy.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Sam is 7, and Dean is 11

-/\-SN-/\-

"Where did you find him?" Bill asked.

John glanced over his shoulder. "A clearing about a half mile in."

He nodded and left the room. John carefully cleaned and bandaged Sam's arm. He winced, but kept still and silent. Small tremors still racked his body as he sat in the protection of his father's arms.

"You're okay, Sammy." John muttered against the back of his son's head.

"…daddy?" His voice was small, hesitant.

"I'm right here." He tightened his hold on his son a little.

"John." Bobby looked up from repacking the first-aid kit.

He looked up at his friend. "I'll get there, just, just give him a moment."

Dean stepped forward, slowly. Sam looked over at his brother, the little boy's face blank, but his eyes dark with fear. Without a word having to be spoken, Dean grabbed Sam's little hand in his.

"John, I don't need to tell you how important this is." Bobby's voice was low and determined.

John closed his eyes for a moment. "Sammy." He shifted the boy in his lap so he could look into the fear-filled features. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Sam swallowed, his eyes a little bigger. His bottom lip trembled again and silent tears gathered in his eyes.

"I know you're scared, but I need to know so I can help you." He took a breath. "What happened, Sam."

"Dad." Dean met his father's eyes.

"Sam, what happened?" It nearly broke John's heart. "I know you're scared, but I also know that you're brave enough to do this."

Sam swallowed. "…catching fireflies." He took a shuddering breath. "I don't know. I'm sorry." He whispered, a tear traced another path down his dirt-smudged cheek.

John wrapped his arms around his boy and held him close. "That's okay, you did just fine."

He stayed with his son in his arms for silent minutes, feeling the little boy just breathe. After a while he glanced down and saw that Sam was asleep. He carefully stood and carried his boy down the hall, Dean followed silently behind. John didn't bother changing Sam into pajamas, he didn't want to risk waking him.

"Dean, watch over him, just until I come back." John glanced over at Dean with a wink.

John placed Sam on the bed and Dean climbed up next to him, his arm over his little brother. John rested his hands on his sons' heads and turned to Jim and Bill in the doorway. He glanced at his boys and then stepped out of the room.

John sat at the kitchen table with Bobby, Jim, Bill and Caleb. Each had a beer in front of them, John's eyes on the table.

"Bill, Ellen and Jo get home all right?" John glanced up.

Bill nodded. "Called a few minutes ago."

John wanted to be with his boys, but knew this was important to their safety. "What do you know?"

Bill sighed, took a drink. "It was definitely something supernatural, though I'm not sure what exactly. It didn't leave much evidence."

"Well, at least I don't need to worry about finding an anti-venom." John muttered.

Jim leaned forward. "John, I know you want to be with your boys, and you will be, soon."

John nodded. "Any theories? Bobby, Caleb, you've both been quiet."

Caleb glanced up from the table. "We're thinking it took some of his blood, that'd be one of the only reasons for the puncture wounds."

Bobby nodded slowly. "So, what likes the taste of blood?"

"Daddy!" Sam's terrified scream cut through the house.

John was on his feet in an instant, the group at the table behind him. When he reached the door of the room, Dean had his arms around Sam. The little boy was terrified, tears streamed down his face, his breath short in terrified gasps. John crossed the room in two steps.

"Sammy?" John knelt in front of his boys.

"He had a nightmare." Dean quietly said.

John took Sam from Dean's arms and felt the little arms tight around his neck. He reached over and gently squeezed Dean's shoulder.

He looked to the group at the door. "If you learn anything else, let me know. I need to stay with my boys."

Bobby nodded, a half smile brushed across his face. "I'll bring in one of the army cots."

"Thank you." John sat on the edge of the bed, Dean leaned against him.

Sam shoved his thumb in his mouth, something he had outgrown by the age of four. That small movement told Dean exactly how scared his little brother was. He reached up and ran his fingers through his brother's hair.

"What did you dream, Sammy?" John hated to do it.

"Dad." Dean warned.

Sam shook his head, thumb firmly in his mouth.

"It's okay, Sammy, you don't have to tell me." John put one arm around Dean and pulled him closer.

Slowly, and not without fighting, Sam fell back asleep only from exhaustion. Dean was half asleep as it was. John carefully eased Sam onto the bed and Dean automatically stretched out next to him, an arm protectively over his baby brother. John moved to the cot and saw with his elbows rested on his knees, his eyes on his boys.

Bobby or Jim passed the room a few times, John wasn't sure which, but he knew the sentiment; we have your back. His attention was drawn away from his boys for a moment, at the fireflies dancing outside the window. He remembered how just a few hours ago Sam was so excited that he had a jarful, a light he could hold in his hands, magic and amazing. Weariness washed over John, his eyes dazed as he watched the light flicker outside.

Sam woke, afraid of the dark until he saw the fireflies again. A small smile ghosted his face and he slipped out from under Dean's arm. He crawled to the window, pressed his nose against the screen. His little fingers fumbled with the screen and he managed to lift the screen. He slipped out, dropped the three feet to the ground in his bare feet. The fireflies circled around him, pulled and guided him towards the woods. The little boy didn't fight it at all.

"Dad!" Dean's voice was bright with fear.

John snapped awake, never even aware of falling asleep. Instantly he looked over at the bed where Dean knelt, his eyes raw with panic. He didn't see Sam.

John grabbed Dean's arm. "Where's Sam?"

Unshed tears glistened in Dean's eyes. "I don't know."

Fear quickened John's heartbeat and he looked towards the window, the screen still open. He lunged for it, looked for any sign of his boy and saw only night darkened woods.

"Go wake up Bobby, Bill, everyone." His voice didn't shake, he thought it would.

Within five minutes everyone stood in the kitchen, dressed and armed. John kept one hand on Dean's shoulder, he was focused and anxious, they both were.

"Same as before." Bill glanced at John and took control. "Half of us in the woods one way, half the other."

"We all should go to the clearing." Joshua said.

John's voice was rough. "He might not be there yet, or he might be someplace else. We're wasting time."

John, Dean, Bill and Jim headed towards the clearing. Bobby, Caleb and Joshua went into the woods. Dean was silent with determination, his hand clenched around the handle of a silver knife. The woods were too still, too quiet, that put everyone on edge.

Sam blinked his eyes open, he didn't know where he was. "Daddy?" His voice trembled.

"No. Not daddy." The icy voice came from behind Sam.

He turned, saw the dark figure and felt fear tighten in his lungs. The figure was lean, dark features, looked to be fourteen. His black eyes were cold, black hair shadowing his face more than the night. Black wings sprouted from his shoulder blades, through carefully cut holes in his black shirt. When he smiled, fangs glinted in the light of the fireflies that drifted in the air.

He knelt in front of Sam and grabbed his small wrist. He pulled the gauze and tape from Sam's skin and smiled.

"You see, Sam. I have tasted many people, but when I sensed and later tasted you, well, I knew I had found something special." He brought Sam's wrist to his lips and bit.

Sam gasped in pain.

"Very special." He looked up into Sam's eyes. "As I feed, I inject you with a sedative, you will sleep and then die."

Sam tried to stand, but dizziness pushed him to the ground. Pain flared through his wrist as he was bit again, a new wound though the first still bled.

"Daddy." He slurred. "Dean." His eyes slipped closed.

"Very special." He smiled, licked the blood from his lips and brought Sam's wrist to his mouth again.