Chapter 3
Things got better after that night, to an extent.
"Dean, buddy I need to talk to you" John called out.
"Yeah Dad?" Dean replied, walking over to see what he needed.
Sam was just about 5 years old now, a little older than Dean was when their mom died.
"Listen Dean, I have to go on a hunt, something in the area is making kids sick really sick" He explained softly.
"Okay" Dean groaned.
"Sammy's birthday is coming up here and if I'm not back by then, give him this" John instructed, handing him a heavy flat box wrapped in Superman paper.
"Got it, what are you hunting this time? Can I help?" Dean asked, curiosity burning deep inside him.
"Dean.. You're too young" John moaned, unsure about sharing information with him.
"Dad, I read all those books and maps you leave behind when you hunt, you taught me how to shoot when I was 6. I'm old enough to know what you're chasing" Dean argued, tired of being treated like a child.
John shifted uncomfortably on his feet, running his fingers through his unkempt hair and thinking for a long few minutes before finally letting out a sigh of relief.
"You're right, you're basically a hunter in a training and you deserve this information" John started, looking behind Dean at the bed to make sure Sam was still asleep.
"It's called a Shtriga" John told him, searching his young sons face for any signs of fear before continuing.
"A Shtriga? What's that?" Dean asked curiously, pleased that his dad was finally opening up to him.
"It's a type of witch, they feed on lifeforce. They can take it from anyone but they prefer to feed on children" John explained, filling him in the best that he could.
"Okay, how do we kill it?" Dean asked wanting to fully understand the situation.
"Consecrated iron rounds" John replied bluntly.
"So you're going to track this thing down and shoot it?" Dean questioned, wondering why he was so hesitant to tell him all this.
"It's not that simple Dean..There's a catch" He started hesitantly.
"What do you mean a catch? Dad, tell me" Dean demanded sternly.
"The thing is completely invulnerable to everything, unless you catch it eating" John explained.
"So you have to wait until it's killing someone else before you can kill it?" Dean asked, finally understanding.
"Exactly" John replied quickly, surprised at how quickly he put it all together.
"What do you need me to do?" Dean asked, determined to help.
"I need you to keep an extra close eye on your brother, there's a slight chance it could come for him so you need to be careful" John instructed before digging into his duffle bag and pulling out a gun.
"Take this and if that thing does show up, shoot it and then call me immediately" He told him, placing the revolver in his hands.
"Okay, I can do that" Dean nodded, wrapping his fingers around the cold metal of the hand gun.
"I need to go, take care of your brother and don't let him out of your sight" He told him one last time before throwing the bag over his shoulder and leaving the room.
Dean stared at the gun in his hands, this was the first time he left him one.
"Dean?" Sam mumbled sleepily.
"Yeah Sammy?" Dean replied, quickly tucking the gun into the inside pocket of his jacket.
"Is dad gone again?" He asked, rubbing his eyes with his fists.
"He'll be back later, don't worry" Dean reassured him with a small smile.
"Okay" he nodded.
"Get dressed, I'll make breakfast" Dean instructed, waving his hand dismissively at him before heading into the kitchenette.
The room they were in this time had a full kitchenette, including a stove so Dean decided to make Sammy some scrambled eggs.
Working in the kitchen, Dean pulled out everything he would need to cook. Eggs, milk, spices, even a small package of bacon and went to work preparing everything while Sammy slowly brushed his teeth and got dressed.
"Hey, are you ready yet?" Dean called out.
"No, not yet" Sammy called back from bathroom.
"The food's getting cold Sammy" Dean groaned, rolling his eyes.
"Slowest kid in the world" Dean thought to himself.
The bacon popped and crackled in the small frying pan, filling the motel with it's delicious scent.
"Come on Sam! Get a move on!" Dean yelled, getting impatient.
A moment later Sam emerged from the bathroom and Dean couldn't help but laugh.
Sam stepped out wearing his favourite Superman shirt, backwards, neon green and black striped pants that were several inches too short, two different coloured socks and his hair spiked in all different directions with what looked like shaving foam.
"Um.. good job Sammy, I like it" Dean giggled.
Sam grinned ear to ear, his eyes sparkling with pride for his new look.
"Eat this before it's completely cold" Dean told him sternly, putting a plate of food in front of him.
Sam ate quickly and eagerly, clearly hungrier than Dean had realized.
"Is there more bacon?" Sam asked suddenly.
"Um, sure Sammy you can have mine" Dean replied, pulling the bacon off his plate and putting it on Sams.
Sam smiled and quickly ate his newly acquired bacon.
Dean finished his eggs before clearing the table and quickly washing all the dishes, sending Sam to go watch cartoons.
"What's this?" Sam asked, holding up the wrapped present.
"It's a birthday present, Dad got it for you" Dean replied, drying the last of dishes and putting them away.
Before Dean could say anything he heard the sound of ripping paper and looking around the corner he found Sammy pulling open his Birthday present, two days early.
"Sam! What are you doing?" Dean asked, stunned.
"Opening my present" Sam replied, staring at Dean quizzically.
"You weren't supposed to do that yet" Dean groaned.
"Why not, it's mine" Sam replied with a shrug before pulling the box open.
"Fine have it your way" Dean thought with a sigh.
"What did dad get you?" Dean asked, curious as it was one of the few birthdays he actually remembered.
"Books!" Sam squealed.
"Can I see them?" Dean asked, sitting down beside him on the bed.
"Sure" Sam chirped, pushing them towards him.
There was a thick book with gold edges that held a collection classic children's stories like Curious George, Where the wild things are and Madeline. Under that was four workbooks to teach reading and writing.
"Well it looks like it's time to teach you a few things" Dean smiled.
Sam tilted his head, staring at him quizzically.
"Come on, lets go to the table" Dean suggested, stacking the books together and taking them with him.
Sammy slid off the bed and followed Dean across the room, settling down on one the old, ripped chairs at the table.
"Stay here for a second" Dean instructed before quickly going to grab one of the yellow legal pads and two pencils from his bag.
Sitting down next to Sam, Dean quickly wrote down the alphabet across the top of the page.
"Here, you see these letters up here?" Dean asked, sliding the pad to Sam and pointing to the top of the page.
"Yes" Sam chirped.
"Good, I want you to take this pencil and write those letters on this line" Dean instructed, drawing a small star beside the line he wanted him to write on.
"But I don't know how" Sam protested.
"It's easy Sammy, just look at how I wrote it and then do the same thing" Dean told him, folding a pencil into his hand and showing him how to trace the first letter.
"I'm going to sit right here and wait until you're finished" Dean smiled, sitting back in his chair.
An hour or so later Sammy dropped his pencil down on the pad in front him and declared he was finished.
"Let's see how you did" Dean grinned, pulling the paper towards himself to check Sam's work.
Looking over the letters Dean was impressed by how few mistakes Sam made, even though his writing skills were going to need a lot of work.
"Good job Sammy" Dean beamed, ruffling up Sams thick brown hair.
"Thanks" Sam giggled, thrilled by Dean's reaction.
Dean spent the rest of the day sitting at the table with Sam, helping him work on properly writing his letters and later putting them together to spell his name.
"Okay Sammy, it's getting late go find your pj's" Dean smiled.
"Kay" Sam nodded, climbing off the chair and digging through his bag for his sleepwear.
"Want me to read you one of your new stories?" Dean asked, holding up the thick, new book he had unwrapped earlier.
"Yes!" Sammy agreed excitedly.
"Alright get in your bed and get comfy" Dean instructed, standing beside his bed while he climbed under all the blankets and snuggled down into the pillow.
"How about we read Curious George?" Dean asked, flipping through the pages to find the story.
Sammy nodded happily and wiggled under the blankets.
Dean spent the next half an hour reading Sam the story of Curious George, making sure to show him all the pictures and use a different voice for every character, just like his dad used to when he read him stories.
"Good night Sammy" Dean whispered to his already sleeping brother.
The temperature spiked suddenly over the next few days, making the motel room nearly unbearable.
"I don't want spaghetti-o's!" Sam screeched, throwing the full bowl across the room.
"Fine! Go to bed hungry then!" Dean growled, grabbing papertowel to clean up the mess.
"NO!" Sam screamed, angry tears rippling down his bright red cheeks.
"What do you want then Sam?" Dean snapped, still mopping up tomato sauce.
"I want cookies!" he demanded, his voice taking on an ear splitting whine.
"We don't have any left Sam, try again" Dean told him, trying to calm him down.
"I want cereal then! the marshmallow kind" He snapped, folding his arms across his chest in a gesture of stubborn protest.
"Fine. You know where it is, go get it" Dean barked, beyond frustrated.
Dean watched as Sam stomped into the kitchenette and pulled the box of cereal out of the cupboard and poured what was left of it, into a bowl. He couldn't wait for Sam's bedtime after the day he had with him, the kid was a total nightmare.
Dean put Sammy to bed at seven o'clock on the nose, he couldn't wait for him to be asleep and quiet for the first time all day.
Once he was sure Sam wasn't going to wake up right away, Dean stepped outside and walked to the coffee shop across the parking lot, he had spotted an arcade game there he wanted to try when they checked in.
Dean couldn't believe how good it felt to be alone, in air conditioning, just for a few minutes even.
"Hey kid, it's closing time, you need to leave" A tall, greasy man in a filthy kitchen apron told him.
"Okay" Dean nodded before shoving the rest of his change into his jacket pocket and leaving.
When he got back into the motel room he knew something was wrong, the door to Sam's room was open just enough for him to see the window was open.
Dean had closed and locked it before he left.
Pulling the gun out of his jacket, Dean quietly pushed the door open.
Standing over Sam was a large black figure, it was tall and wearing a tattered charcoal coloured robe that hung down and puddled on the floor. It's mouth was open and a bright white wave was flowing between it and Sam.
"The Shtriga, it's feeding on Sam!" Dean thought urgently.
Dean brought the hand gun up and took aim but before he could shoot, someone else beat him to it, and with a much larger gun.
"Sammy!" John cried, running to his side after the Shtriga lept out the open window.
"Come on Sammy, wake up!" He bellowed, pulling him against his chest.
"Dad?" Sam whispered.
"Are you okay son?" John asked, still holding him close.
"What happened?" He groaned, still waking up.
"Nothing son, don't worry" He sighed, filled with relief.
"Dean, what the hell happened!" He snapped, his eyes wide with anger.
"I-I'm sorry" Dean stuttered, tears warm in his eyes.
"I told you not to take your eyes off of him!" John growled.
"I.. I just went out for a minute" Dean stammered.
"You went out? You can't do that Dean!" John snapped, a mix of furious and relieved.
"I'm sorry, it won't happen again" Dean cried, defeated. A knot building in the pit of his stomach.
"Sammy could have died!" He shouted.
"I know! I said I was sorry!" Dean screamed, and he was. The only thing he knew he was good for is protecting his little brother and tonight he couldn't even do that.
"Shhh, it's okay Sammy" John whispered, rocking him back and forth on the bed to calm him down.
"Dean, pack the car. We're leaving" John ordered, glaring at him.