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And thank you for sticking around!

I'm still making this story up as I go, but the support I've gotten so far has really encouraged me to plow ahead anyway and see where it takes me.

So, I hope you continue to enjoy the ride along with me!

Thank you for being patient for the next update, and enjoy! :)

"So, when are you going to let us tag along on one of your hunts?"

Dean cringed and rolled himself out from underneath the Impala, coming face to face with Fred's hopeful grin hovering over him. The Scooby gang hadn't even been in the real world for twenty-four hours yet, and the unfathomable idea of them hunting was already coming up? He was beginning to regret letting the teenager hang around with him in the garage while he was working.

"Yeah, no. That's not gonna happen!"

The grin shifted into a disappointed frown. Fred took a couple of steps back to give him space as Dean got up, and watched on as the other man went through the motions of lowering the Impala back down onto the garage floor. Waiting until Dean glanced in his direction again before protesting. "Why not?"

"Because what Sammy and I deal with on a day to day basis is way over your head." Dean argued with a light chuckle as he strode over to his tool box to snatch up the red, oil-stained rag to wipe his hands off with. He wasn't done with the Impala's weekly tune up, but with the teen pestering him, and his stomach grumbling at him to eat, he figured now was as good a time as any to take a break from working on the car.

"You guys are good at the whole detective thing," he said as he tossed the rag back where it belonged when he was finished with it. Then, he turned to face Fred again. "But the plain and simple fact is, you're not meant to be hunters. So, just stick with what you already know how to handle. Okay?"

Fred's frown deepened, offended by the unspoken implication he was hearing in the rejection. "Hey, come on! I thought we handled ourselves pretty well the last time we worked together."

"That was a fluke," argued Dean. "We were dealing with a child spirit, from our own world here, who thought slapping us into a car-erm-" He pretended to clear this throat, annoyed with himself for nearly letting the truth slip out. "Slapping us into a crappy situation for shits and giggles was a great idea. We got lucky that he could be reasoned with once we caught him. Most ghosts aren't usually that cooperative, and a lot of them can be really dangerous if they've been around long enough. And that, like I already told ya Freddy, is just the tip of the iceberg with hunting! There's a lot worse out there than ghosts!"

"But wouldn't it be better for us to know more about this stuff, so we know how to deal with it?"

"Trust me, you're not going to have to worry about that once you get back home. We're the ones with the things that go bump in the night here, not you guys. So, don't worry about it!"

Hoping to end the conversation there, Dean turned and made his way to the garage exit. All he wanted to do right now was wash up more and stuff a sandwich in his face, not argue the pros and cons of hunting with an overly-eager teenager.

"How can you be so sure of that?" Fred called out after him.

Dean stopped in his tracks, his hand in mid-reach for the doorknob, and sighed. His amusement took a hard right towards annoyance. And he found himself wondering for a moment, as Fred caught up with him, what it was going to take to convince him to just drop it. "Listen to your elder, kid. I ain't gonna say it again."

"I'm 18," Fred replied a little testily, "which makes me a legal adult. Capable of making my own decisions."

"Yeah," Dean snapped back, "well, until we can track down Rowena to get you back home, you're under my roof. Which makes you my responsibility! Mentally, you're still a kid. And I'm not interested in having your blood on my hands because you didn't want to take no for an answer!"

He didn't wait for Fred to stammer out a response to his outburst. In seconds, he was out of the garage and stalking down the hall to make his way towards the kitchen. It wasn't long before he heard Fred's steps behind him, and he found himself quickening his pace.

Dean was tired of having kids look up to him like he was some kind of hero. Of them being so eager to dive headfirst into the dangerous world of hunting. Claire, Kristy, Charlie, in her own nerdier way, and Jack. Even Ben, once upon a time, had expressed an interest to live the lifestyle that Dean never asked to live in the first place.

Why didn't they ever listen?

Pushing his way through the kitchen door a couple of minutes later, he was relieved to see Sam and Velma were already working with Daphne on sandwiches for the group. "Did you get in touch with your gal pal, Sammy?"

His brother made a face at him, but then shook his head no. "You know Rowena. She finds you, not the other way around."

"Yeah, well, the sooner we find her-," Dean waltzed over and snatched up one of the sandwiches off of the plate they were being piled on, "-the sooner we can send the brat pack home where they belong." He strode over to the fridge to snag a beer, and was out of the kitchen again before anyone else could get a word in otherwise.

"What's up with him?" Daphne asked as Fred came over to see what he could help with. She noticed the sour expression on his face and connected the dots. "Freddy, what did you two fight about?"

"That guy is just so…unreasonable!" Fred grumbled as he wandered over to the cabinet to take plates out for everyone and placed them on the table. Taking down glasses next and doing the same with them. "He refuses to tell me anything about hunting! He's convinced that we have nothing to worry about when we get back home, but how can he be so sure of that? He acts like he's withholding information to, I don't know, protect us from ourselves I guess? But if he really cared, then wouldn't he teach us to defend ourselves in case we run into something back home?"

"Your world's safe," Sam said without thinking.

"Well," Velma piped up as she closed the bread bag and twisted on the tie, "we don't really know that for sure." She studied her companion's reaction, and realized he did seem certain that their safety was guaranteed. Like he knew something they didn't know. "Why are you and Dean so convinced that our reality is safe?"

"Because I know it to be true," said a gravelly voice from the doorway.

Everyone turned to see Castiel entering the kitchen.

Velma chuckled and shrugged. "Well, I guess if an angel is telling us this…"

"I was already familiar with your particular reality before arriving in it," explained Castiel as he briefly shared a look with Sam. "Aside from an abundance of criminals who seem to delight in dressing up as specters and ghouls in an attempt to pull off their nefarious schemes, your world is a relatively tame one." He turned his attention to Fred. "Being a hunter is unnecessary in your world, so…don't press Dean on the matter. He has a lot on his mind right now."

Fred looked like he didn't agree, but when Castiel's expression became more pointed he reluctantly nodded in understanding.

Snatching up a sandwich for himself, he took a bite and carried the plate with the rest of them over to the table while Sam went over to the fridge to list off the non-alcoholic beverage options the bunker had to offer. It wasn't until everyone was sitting at the table, Castiel included with Scooby at his feet, that Fred noticed someone else was missing. "Say, where's Shaggy?"

The girls looked at the empty seat with worried expressions. Worked up nerves or not, it wasn't like Shaggy to miss a meal, let alone two. None of them remembered seeing him throughout the morning.

Scooby whimpered, and everyone once again felt a blanket of the dog's anxiety wash over them.

"You don't suppose he's still catching up on his sleep?" Fred asked, sliding his chair back with the intention of looking for their friend. "Maybe I should go and check on him…"

"I'll go," volunteered Castiel. He snatched up a few sandwiches and piled them onto his own plate to bring with him. "If he's feeling ill, then I can restore his health."

Velma was still a little skeptical over the claims that the ordinary man standing before her really was an angel, and her brows raised with surprise at his declaration. "You can do that, huh?"

"Of course. It'll be even simpler than healing his wrist had been."

Sam suppressed a chuckle at Velma's expense when he caught the baffled look on her face. It was funny seeing her so out of her element. At least, in these circumstances anyway. He watched Cas leave with Scooby, and then gave her a playful nudge in the shoulder. "Get used to the weird and outlandish, Velma. You're going to come face to face with it a lot while you're here."

"Yeah, well, if Dean has his way, we won't see it for long..." Fred grumbled as he took his seat again.

"He's just looking out for us," pointed out Daphne, beating Sam to the punch. She took a dainty bite from her sandwich, saw out of the corner of her eye the tell-tale signs that Fred was going to argue with her, and let her frustrations with their current predicament boil over. "I don't know why you're so eager for trouble, Freddy. After what happened back home-"

Fred's fist suddenly slamming down on the table startled them all. He let out a breath, mildly embarrassed by his own outburst, and did his best to collect himself. Then he looked up and locked eyes with Sam across from him.

His anger was plain to see, but there was an unhidden fear in Fred's expression too that made Sam hold his tongue. It resonated with him. He remembered how he used to feel when he was younger; overwhelmed by everything that was happening around him and feeling as if the world was crumbling underneath his feet.

"Look...," Fred paused as he remembered the sound of screams and breaking glass. "The fact of the matter is, that ghost we fought in the mansion back home was real. It threw us around that room like we were rag dolls, and if Castiel wasn't there…Shaggy and Scooby would have died!"

That somber reminder of what almost happened snuffed the argument out of Daphne, and made Sam feel even more sympathetic for the frustrated teenager sitting before him.

"I know I'm being pushy about the whole hunting thing," Fred continued with a haunted expression on his face, "but…I just don't want something like that to happen again! Our world may be 'safe' by your standards, Sam, but I'm not ruling out the possibility of something like that happening again. If something from your world somehow winds up in ours again, I want to know how to recognize it and deal with it before it kills one of my friends! That really isn't an unreasonable request for me to be making! If Dean really cared about our well-being, then he'd drop the macho act and teach us how to hunt!"

Sam couldn't exactly argue with that. And he knew, if Dean had been present for Fred's speech, that his brother would probably have a hard time arguing his case to keep the Scoobies from learning how to hunt after hearing that too. Unfortunately, having no knowledge of Fred's true motivations, and being in a strict 'do as I say' state of mind, Sam knew he'd have to talk some sense into Dean first before actively teaching their new house guests anything about the world of hunting. After all, Dean's word was law in the bunker.

Of course, that didn't mean they couldn't do any independent research on their own. Dean hadn't forbidden the teenagers from exploring their new surroundings.

"Look, I'll talk to Dean about it." He offered sympathetically, earning mixed expressions on the faces staring back at him. The girls didn't look too thrilled with the concept, despite Fred's valid concerns. "In the meantime…we do have a lot of books here you could read to pass the time."

Fred read between the lines, and smiled gratefully. "Thanks, man." He plopped another sandwich onto his plate, scrapping his chair back again, and started to excuse himself. "Do you mind if I…?"

"Sure," nodded Sam, "go ahead."

After politely sliding his chair back in its place, Fred quickly made his exit. He practically had a skip in his step.

"I'd better go with him," Daphne remarked as she picked up her own plate. "If he runs into Dean and starts something, I might be able to diffuse things a little."

As the door closed shut in the red-head's wake, a steadily awkward silence filled the kitchen. Sam and Velma hadn't been alone together since the Mystery Inc. gang's arrival in the real world. Neither of them really knew what to say to each other.

All Velma could think about was the giant elephant in the room, and if she could avoid talking about that then that would be great.

"So, uh…" Sam murmured as he cleared his throat. He realized that his playfulness from earlier might be misinterpreted, and he wanted to make things clear now before it escalated any further. "We kinda need to talk about this, you know."

"How you're defying your brother's authority by giving Fred the clear to read up on hunting?" She squeaked nervously, attempting to stall the inevitable unwanted discussion if it couldn't be dodged entirely. "How mad do you think he'll be, huh?"

Sam gave her a patient, yet amused look, which made her hang her head a little. "Come on, Velma…you know what I mean."

An embarrassed flush lit up the young girl's face. She really wanted to disappear right now. Why couldn't he just pretend it didn't happen like she was trying to do?

With a reluctant sigh, she stole a glance at him. "I, uh…I really don't know what came over me last night when I kissed you." She fixed her eyes down on her hands in her lap, fidgeting them nervously. "I'm not usually so…forward with guys. Like, at all! Especially when it's obvious they're not interested…"

"You're a nice girl-"

"No, not really," Velma interrupted Sam with a self-deprecating giggle at her own expense. "I was being a real know-it-all bitch last night towards you the whole investigation! It's…kinda my defense mechanism, I guess? I'm not blind. Even if I was a pretty girl, I know that if I'm in the same room as Daphne, no guy's going to look twice at me. So…I rely on my intellect to put up walls so I don't get hurt or turn into a green-eyed monster towards my best friend."

She glanced back up at him with a sorry expression on her face. "Not that that makes it okay. I was being smug, and then I wound up being wrong and went and threw myself at you because…I really don't know…maybe I felt safe doing it because I didn't think I'd ever see you again? Like that magically made it okay for me to do? Which is, just, so ridiculous! So…yeah, I don't blame you for not liking me."

"I do like you, Velma." Sam assured her with a comforting smile on his face. "To be honest, you've always been my favorite…"

That struck her as an odd thing to say, but Velma didn't linger on it. Her heart drummed loudly in her ears as a hopeful feeling bubbled up within her. Maybe she hadn't blown it with him after all.

"…but, the thing is…"

That hope popped in an instant, and her expression fell a little with disappointment.

"I'm way too old for you," he said gently. Feeling bad for being the cause of the crushed expression on her face.

Well, that wasn't a lie. Velma had to admit that part of her embarrassment over the kiss was largely due to the realization that Sam was much older than her than she had initially thought when they were back in her world. That rational made the rejection hurt a little less. In a way, it was comforting knowing that it wasn't something she said or did that drove him away from her. "So…you forgive me for jumping you?"

He laughed, which made her smile. He had such a nice laugh.

"I take that as a yes?"

Sam shoulder bumped her with a twinkle in his eye, and then he got up. Collecting their plates and empty soda bottles. "Yes, I forgive you. Besides, it was kinda funny."

That stung a little. "What, my crush on you?"

Realizing he hurt her feelings, Sam was quick to explain himself. "No, I mean the comedic timing of when you kissed me. I don't know if you noticed, but my brother was fixated on wooing your friend Daphne the entire investigation."

"While you weren't even trying to get my attention, and you 'got the girl', so to speak?"

"Yeah."

Velma smirked, sharing his amusement. "Well, I'm not going to lie. Daphne and I thought that was funny too."

"So, she did notice Dean's interest in her?" Sam wondered how Dean would feel about that, now that he was no longer interested in winning her over. He couldn't help feeling a little bad for his brother for the joke that had been made at his expense.

"Daphne likes to play with guys who are so over the top like that," explained Velma unapologetically. "Although, sometimes, she does hook up with them too. Of course, she'd never take it that far with someone as old as Dean!"

Laughing, Sam rinsed off their plates along with the knives that had been used for the sandwich condiments. "Is that why she thought she was going to hell?"

"Pretty much. Although I doubt, if God's even real, that he really cares about that."

Sam put their dishes in the strainer and smirked at her over his shoulder. "No, not really. He's got bigger, genuinely serious problems to deal with than teenagers being teenagers. Not that he does anything to actually fix those problems..."

Velma's jaw dropped. "You've met God?"

Plucking a couple of sodas from the fridge, Sam sat back down and slid one to her. "Yeah, well…that's a long story."

Knowing he had Velma's undivided attention, he twisted off his bottle's cap and took a long sip of overly-sweet beverage. Then he leaned back in his chair, pondered on where to even start, and then, finally, began to tell her his story.

"When I was a baby…"