First off, I'm real sorry this has taken so long to update...no motivation, no inspiration, school, home life, and the fact I lost all the info and ideas I had for this story caused me to give up on it. Then I realized how stupid I was being. Here's the update!

Dean watched Caleb go into the only bedroom and sighed. He and Mark had given up their wrestling match when the phone had rang. They had figured it was their father, calling to either give an update or tell Caleb he was on his way. When Caleb left the room Dean got to his feet and went into the kitchen.

Sam was leaning against the counter of the little kitchen, his toy car on the counter behind him. The four year old had his head tilted to the side like he was thinking. Dean rolled his eyes, no one thought as much as his brother did.

He noticed Sam shake his head slightly as if he were answering a question, and then the toaster flew from the counter and hit the opposite wall. At teh same time all the cabinets flung open and several glasses and cups that had probably been left by the last owner of the house crashed to the floor or the nearest wall. Dean barely heard Sam scream as he made his way to his baby brother and pulled him under the small kitchen's wooden table.

Shouts were heard from the other room but Dean tuned them out as he focused on Sam. The eight-year old looked his brother over. The worst damage seemed to be at Sam's legs where blood was seeping through his slightly-too-big pajama pants.

"Sammy, you okay?" Dean asked as Mark and Andy entered, Caleb only a couple steps behind them.

"Guys? What the hell happened?" Caleb questioned, stepping into the kitchen. His gun was in his hand instead of in his waistband where it usually was. "No way, go get your shoes on." He ordered when he noticed the older brothers attempt to get past him and to their younger brothers. "We don't need your feet covered in glass." Caleb had already been wearing his boots so the glass was no big deal for him.

Caleb approached the table and bent down, "Come on boys, we need to get outta here." He reached under the table and grabbed Sam around the waist, lifting him up and out from teh table in a quick motion. When Dean made a move to leave Caleb stopped him, "Just hold up, Ace, I don't want you getting cut up either." Dean nodded quickly, eyes following Sam as Caleb carried him to the kitchen door.

After handing the slightly sobbing Sammy to Mark, who now had shoes on, Caleb accepted a large towel from Andy, also wearing a pair of shoes. Caleb laid the towel down so Dean could crawl out. Dean might be eight, but Caleb wouldn't be able to pick the boy up since the table was low and Dean weighed much more than a four year old.

Once everyone was out of the kitchen, Caleb grabbed a can of salt and made a large circle around the couch where Mark had taken his baby brother. Things did not just fall out of cabinets, no something had to have done that.

Sam's sobs had quietened down as Mark worked on clearing away some of the blood.

"I won't be able to get the glass out, Caleb." Mark swallowed when Caleb had finished the circle. "There are some pieces that are too far-"

Caleb cut him off, "I'll go grab the first aid kit, no one leave the circle got it? I swear to God if I come back and anyone's gone I'll carry through on my threat to dunk you in the nearest river." He stepped over the circle carefully, gun still in hand, and made his way to the bathroom where he knew his first aid kit was. Retrieving the kit, he ran back to the boys as fast as he could.

"Should we call Dad?" Dean asked softly, shaking slightly. Caleb nodded and handed his phone to the second youngest Winchester. Dean was a pretty tough kid, but seeing the room shatter with glass with his baby brother still inside didn't help him feel safe at all.

While Caleb grabbed a pair of tweezers from the kit, Dean dialed the last number that had called the phone.

"Yeah?" the tired yet familiar voice of his father answered.

"Dad, it's Dean."

"Dean? What's wrong? WHere's Caleb?"

Dean swallowed again and explained, "Dad...soemthing happened at Caleb's. C-Could you just get here...please?" He blinked his eyes a few times. Crying wasn't cool, not when he was talking to his dad. And since when did he sound so needy? He wasn't a baby. But...the past few minutes had really freaked him out.

"Dean, what happened? Give the phone to Caleb."

"Can't, he's pulling glass out of Sammy's legs." If there was one thing Dean knew it was his father did not like things sugar coated.

"Damn it! I'm on my way, I'll be there in half an hour."

The phone went dead and Dean tossed it on the couch beside Caleb. It was at least an hour drive from Caleb's to their last motel, but Dean knew his dad wasn't lying when he said he'd make the trip in half an hour.

"He said he'd be here in thirty minutes." Dean reported. Caleb was sitting on the couch with Sam's legs on his lap. Sammy was leaning against the couch's arm rest, Andy running a hand through his brown hair. Mark was manning the gun, looking around the room constantly for any sign of whatever had attacked Sam.

Dean sat on the floor, his back against the couch so he was right under Sam. "You doing alright, Sammy?" He felt a slight movement on the couch and figured Sam had either nodded or shook his head. He wasn't sure which so he went down a different route, "Dad'll be here soon."

He heard Sam sniff and Dean looked up. More tears were finding their way down Sam's face.

"H'rts, De." Sam gave anouther loud sniff. Dean got on his knees and turned around to face his brother.

"I know it does Sammy, but Caleb'll be done in a few more minutes." Dean shot Caleb a look, which the man ignored. "Hey, maybe we can talk Andy into letting you have some of his cool glow in the dark band-aids. Huh? Wouldn't that be cool?"

"You too." Sam pointed at Dean's arm. The eight year old looked down to see a small line of red. He hadn't even noticed he'd been cut with something.

It was another ten minutes before anything happened. Dean had been quietly talking to his baby brother, taking Andy's place at Sam's head while the second oldest son helped Mark watch for anything unusual. Caleb was just pulling the last of the glass from Sam when a lamp in the room busted.

"Shit!" Caleb shouted, instinct making him cover his head. "Anyone hit?"

"All clear, Caleb." Mark reported quickly after a glance at each of his brothers.

"I vote we get out of here," Andy suggested.

"I second that notion." Dean muttered, "Are Sam's legs good to go?"

Caleb ran a hand over his face and replied, "They're gonna have to be." He took his gun back from Mark and gently lifted Sam's legs off of his lap. "Mark, carry Sam outside. We'll wrap a shirt or something around his legs when we're in the car. We'll park across the street or something that way we can stop your dad before he walks in half-cocked like we all know he will."

Mark lifted the four year old into his arms, cringing when he heard Sam hiss in pain. "Sorry Sammy," he apologized quietly.

Dean picked up the can of salt Caleb had used to make the circle, it wouldn't do much but if he could throw it at the ghost it might just work or at least cause some sort of damage.

"On three." Caleb said, making eye contact with each of the brothers. As far back as Dean, Andy, and Mark could remember, hunters never went on three. It was an unspoken rule they'd learned over time. In case the spook understood English it was safer-

"One." Caleb counted and immediately everyone took off running. Andy hit the door first and pulled it open while Caleb covered their backs in case whatever showed up. He was almost positive they were dealing with a spirit, the exploding objects and the fact it wouldn't cross the salt all pointed to ghost. Add that to the information John had told him earlier.

They were on the front lawn in no time and in Caleb's two door Mustang before they heard more explosions from the house. Dean and Andy hurried into the back while Mark settled with Sam in the front passneger seat. Caleb climbed into the driver's seat and started the car, pulling out of the driveway and parking a street away. There was only one way into the small subdivision made up of little rental houses so he'd be able to see the Impala from his position.

Caleb pulled his shirt off and ripped it so he had two large pieces. He and Mark managed to get Sam's legs taken care of. Somehow the four year old had drifted into a restless sleep.

I'm working on the next chapter right now. This definitely took a different turn than I had originally thought, but don't worry...this isn't the climax.