13

Both Marcus and Dean stared as a small man burst from the dark building, eyes wide and haunted within a head that had skin stretched taunt across the skull, although the entire form appeared to be in the same way. The man's eyes landed briefly on the two hunters, and then moved swiftly to land on the dead puca, and an ethereal scream erupted him, making Dean shiver and shift closer to Marcus, who moved carefully between himself and the teenager.

"It's dead, it's dead, it's dead," the small man moaned, stumbling over to the corpse of the puca and collapsing beside it, twisting his fingers into the tangled mane "It can't be dead, it mustn't. It's dead, it's dead." His voice fell into a strangled cry, and then his head suddenly snapped around, his eyes landing again on the two hunters and narrowing. He moved suddenly and quickly, practically rocketing to his feet, and the scream burst from his lips again as he charged at the pair.

"Run Dean!" Marcus shouted, pushing the boy to the side and running in the opposite direction, Dean obeyed immediately, fleeing swiftly across the clearing and into the trees, turning his direction so that he could run parallel to the track that led from the house, knowing he'd probably get lost if he went any other way.

He had been running for several minutes before a root tripped him, and he sprawled gracelessly, narrowly missing concussing himself on a tree, and he lay for a moment, getting his breath back and listening.

The silence was unnerving, and he knew something was wrong. Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet, testing his weight on his smarting ankle and hissing as he realised he'd taken most of the skin from one palm, but he didn't think his ankle was hurt that badly, and only limped slightly as he retrieved the shotgun that had spun from his hands as he fell. A momentary decision had him turning back the way he'd come, and he started back through the trees for the clearing and the house.

Dean and Bobby were silent as they listened to the Sam climb the creaking staircase, and then Bobby moved across the room, shifting papers and books from a chair and dropping into it, dragging his hat from his head with a sigh and dropping it on top of the books that covered the desk he sat before, He gave Dean a long look, raising his eyes to the ceiling as Sam's footsteps could be heard crossing the room above them.

"What?" Dean asked

"No trouble along the way?" Bobby asked, turning tired eyes back to the eldest Winchester boy "Other than the night hag?". Dean frowned, knowing that Bobby was expecting the demon to attack as much as he was

"None," he assured the older man, "Whole trip was quiet other than last night." His stomach twisted painfully again at the thought, angry that he had not been there to protect Sam from the get go.

"What?" he said suddenly, realising that Bobby had been talking, and the older man gave an exasperated sigh, and leaned closer.

"I said your brother's gonna be fine. You got him in time."

"I didn't, Bobby," Dean replied, shifting guiltily in his seat "I mean, I let that night hag attack him, his girlfriend was attacked by the demon, and Sam was there as well, he watched her die, same as mom, whilst he was in the apartment…"

"Yeah, well, you've got Sam now," Bobby point wed out, "And the demon didn't get him that night." His eyes went tracked across the room, and Dean followed his gaze to the beer bottle Sam had left behind.

"What did you do to it?" he asked.

"Spiked it with holy water," the Bobby admitted, flashing Dean a guilty look half heartedly, "Yours too. I had to be sure," he added as Dean spluttered indignantly.

"Nice to know you're assured," Dean said after a moment, twisting the bottle idly in his hands and then drinking deeply from it "But Sammy's good, yeah? I mean no demons…?" he hadn't thought about it before, but it was possible that his brother had been caught out by a demon before Dean had found him, and that he had been travelling with a demon posing as Sam, or that Sam unconsciously had a demon piggy-backing alongside him, and that he had just allowed the thing into Bobby's house, had given it perfect opportunity to get at one of the greatest demon hunters, and the material that Bobby kept in his house was invaluable, probably wanted desperately by demons so that they could have a one-up on every hunter…

"Your brother's fine," Bobby repeated "Or he will be, what with his girlfriend being gone by the demon and the night hag…"

"Yeah," Dean agreed, "He doesn't remember the hunt Bobby. I mean, dad never told him before… before we all got split up, and I kinda had to drop it on him after getting attacked by the in the motel but still, I think-"

"You'll both stick around until you're ready," Bobby cut in, and Dean grinned at the order "Now git to bed, Hell knows you drove that kid all the way up from Iowa this morning, and you look like shit." Dean snorted, but nodded, and set the bottle on the floor before going upstairs, entering the bedroom quietly and pausing at the first bed, watching his brother sleep for a moment before he continued over to the other bed, pulling off shirt and jeans before crawling under the covers.

X

It was mid-afternoon before Bobby heard someone approaching him, and he glanced over as Sam walked across the yard and stopped close to the older man, and Bobby grunted a greeting before returning to his work.

"Dean still asleep?" he asked after a minute.

"Yeah," Sam replied, shifting slightly, it had been odd to wake up to find Dean in the bed on the other side of the room, but it hadn't been as… wrong as he had thought it should have been. He looked briefly at Bobby, and then gave a small sigh and walked across the yard, sitting carefully on the bonnet of one of the rusted cars.

"You're a hunter as well, aren't you?" he asked after several minutes.

"Yeah," Bobby replied, not turning around as he spoke even though Sam had pretty much placed himself out of the elder mans view "Demons mostly, but I taught your daddy most of what he knows." He heard Sam shift behind him, and in the following silence Rumsfeld wandered over, sniffing lazily at Bobby before continuing over to Sam.

"Did you teach Dean?" he asked eventually.

"Some," the reply was truthful, "Your daddy taught him to shoot a bit, and then the Bevan's taught him mainly,"

"The Bevan's?" Sam asked,

"They looked after your brother after the accident" Bobby admitted slowly, realising they were tracking into sensitive territory and beginning to feel uncomfortable.

"And dad?" Sam asked "Where was dad?" Bobby stopped working then, turning to look at the youngest of the Winchesters, head bowed as he scratched the head of the large dog.

"Perhaps you should talk to Dean," Bobby suggested "Your brother would be better to as-"

"No!" Sam said suddenly, his head whipping up, and he looked frantically towards the house before continuing in a calmer voice "No. I don't want… I'd rather you told me Bobby, please." He face melted into an almost childish look, and Bobby had to look away as he caught the pleading gaze he'd last seen in Sam at age seven.

"Your daddy was taken in by the police after the accident f'r questioning," he explained "No one's heard off him since. He ain't in prison," he added quickly, turning back to the car and continuing with his work "If he were in prison we'd have found him. He's just… disappeared. " There was a silence between the two and then Bobby heard Sam sigh, and the younger man rose

"You should talk to Dean," Bobby suggested again, and the Sam paused.

"Yeah," he said, giving Bobby a quick dimpled grin "I will. Thank you."

X

He took a while to find his brother, searching all over the house before finally finding him around the front of the house, music blasting from the car as Dean worked under the bonnet. Sam stopped several feet away, and Dean grinned when he noticed Sam standing there.

"Hey Sammy," he said, turning back to the car "Sleep alright?"

"Dean, we need to talk," Sam responded, and Dean straightened, looked carefully at Sam's stoic face.

"Okay," he said, dropping the bonnet of the Impala and sitting on top of it "What's wrong?"

"I need you to tell me," Sam started "Everything."

"Sam, you need to narrow it down a bit there, 'everything' kind of covers a lot…"

"I'm serious Dean!" Sam all but shouted, crossing the space between them and standing beside the car, setting a hand on the bonnet "I need you to tell me everything. About hunting, about our family, about who the hell it was you shot last night!"

"Wha-?"

"Dean!" Sam's head rose to meet Dean's gaze, and Dean froze at the stricken look that suddenly appeared in Sam's eyes "I don't remember anything!"