Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW. I own nothing.

AN- I am so sorry guys. I've been going through kind of a rough patch where I didn't really feel like writing or doing anything else I loved for that matter. It's still going on actually. I've had to force myself to sit down and write or sew or anything else. Please just bear with me. I do intend to finish all my stories.

Thank you for sticking with me this long.

Previously on Supernatural- "Thanks" Bobby responded. He picked up Sammy and stood. Feeling the little boy's head drop onto his shoulder and tiny fingers playing with his hair, the hunter smiled. "Come on buddy. Let's go home."

SPN

Bobby chuckled as a giggling Sammy pedaled past towing his stuffed bear Seuss and puppy Max. It was good to see the boy smiling again. He hadn't thought that dimpled grin would come out again anytime soon after the kidnapping attempt. The kid had played the silent and afraid routine from the time they got into the truck to drive home. Sammy had clung to Bobby's hand or his pants leg staying close enough to be the hunter's shadow. Nothing the foster father had done brought the kid out of his shell either. The five year old had spent their TV time as well as lunch time sitting on his daddy's lap. And while Bobby loved the sudden closeness, he knew it wasn't a good sign. So after cleaning up the boy's half eaten lunch, Bobby had taken Sammy outside and pulled out the kid's new tractor. It had taken some coaching and a lot of encouragement but the boy had finally taken off on his new ride and he'd been riding ever since something that the hunter was grat…

"Daddy! Daddy! Watch!" Sammy shouted, breaking through the man's thoughts. The youngster waited until he had his father's attention and then set off. He pedaled hard making the tractor go as fast as he could as he maneuvered around the various pot holes and car parts that littered the ground. Skidding to a stop at the hunter's feet, Sammy smiled up at him. "You see Sammy?" he questioned.

"I sure did Buddy!" Bobby responded, ruffling the boy's hair. "You're getting really good on that thing!"

Sammy beamed at the unexpected praise. "Me go fast!" he enthused.

"Yes you did" Bobby agreed. He set his wrench down on the bumper of the car he was working on muttering a curse as it slid right off and hit the ground with a thud.

Sammy tilted his head to one side. "Sammy help daddy?" he timidly inquired.

Bobby glanced from his son to his toolbox and back. He'd left the box full of tools on a stump beside the workshop to ensure there wouldn't be any accidents. But now that Sammy was asking to help, the hunter wasn't sure what to do. Should he let the boy help or send him on his way? Dean had been the tool keeper at Sammy's age but then again Dean hadn't been living with and tortured by demons for years either. Bobby wasn't sure how…

"Please?" Sammy pleaded. "Me be careful."

Bobby looked down at his son and smiled. There was no way he could say no to that face. Besides, putting one tool into the box wouldn't hurt the kid. "Okay kiddo you can help" the hunter agreed. He picked up the wrench and handed it to the five year old. "Take this wrench and put it in the red box over there."

"Red?" Sammy questioned, gazing in the direction his daddy was pointing.

Bobby shook his head. It hadn't even crossed his mind that the youngster wouldn't know colors. Resolving to start fixing that this evening, he pulled off his cap and pointed to the bill. "Red is this color, buddy. See, this part of my cap is red." He explained before pointing at another object. "And the horn on your tractor is red and so is the bow on your bear."

Sammy studied the items for a moment and then grinned. Holding the wrench with both hands, he raced over to the toolbox. Once there he carefully held the tool towards the battered metal box. The five year old frowned at the open space between his hand and the opening in the toolbox. Huffing, he got up on his tiptoes and stretched up as high as he could but he still couldn't quite reach. Determined to complete his task the youngster looked around for something to stand on. Spying a gray cement block nearby, Sammy smiled. It was lying right beside the stump and it was the right height. But would it hold him? The little boy's brow furrowed at that thought. Deciding there was only one way to find out, he placed the wrench in his pocket, stepped over to the block, and pressed on it with both hands. It didn't give. Grinning, Sammy climbed up on the block, pulled out the wrench, and stretched his arm towards the box. Finding he still couldn't reach, the youngster shuffled closer to the edge of the block and getting on his tip toes reached out again.

Bobby jumped banging his head on the hood of the vehicle he was working on when a loud clatter sounded. Rubbing his aching head, he scanned the yard for the source of the noise. Seeing his foster son lying on the ground surrounded by tools, the hunter's eyes widened. "BALLS!" he yelled as he sprinted across the yard.

"Don't cry, don't cry" Sammy told himself. But between the pain of falling and the sight of his daddy's tools scattered around him, he couldn't help it. Tears began streaming down his face as he imagined the punishment he was sure to receive.

Bobby skidded to a stop beside the hurting boy. Squatting down, he reached over and placed a hand on Sam's back.

Sammy flinched back as if he'd been struck. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry daddy!" he apologized as he frantically began picking up the dropped tools. "Sammy pick them up and, and clean them and…"

"Aww buddy! Calm down. It's okay." Bobby soothed. He drew the crying five year old into his lap and wrapped his arms around him. He gently took the tools out of Sam's hands and dropped them back on the ground.

"But, but your wrenches!" Sammy objected, reaching out to collect the tools once more.

"Leave'em" the hunter instructed.

"But…

Bobby looked down at the five-year-old. "Son, I don't give a rip about the tools. It's you I'm worried about." Bobby clarified. "Now how about we go in the house and get you all fixed up?"

Sammy turned fear filled eyes on his daddy. "Yes m-massster" he managed to dutifully reply before his face crumbled. "Me sorrrry massster! No hurt Sammy! Please! Me fix!"

"Aww buddy, Daddy's not going to hurt you." Bobby murmured as he tightened his hold on the youngster. Feeling Sammy's trembling worsen, he gently grasped the boy's bloody chin and pulled until the little guy's eyes met his. "Daddy will never hurt you. Understand?"

"Bu-but what if, if I…"

"There is nothing you could ever do, that could make me hurt you." Bobby assured the youngster.

Sammy stared skeptically into his daddy's face before shakily lifting a pinkie. "P-p-pinkie promise?"

Smiling, Bobby immediately linked pinkies with his son. "Pinkie promise" he repeated.

Sammy's eyes went comically wide. His daddy had pinkie promised! That meant he was telling the truth because Dean said nobody could ever break a pinkie promise and he knew everything! Feeling truly safe for the first time ever, the five-year-old threw his arms around Bobby's neck as he cried out, "DADDY!"