AN: Sorry for the delay! This is mostly a transition chapter but I had to live with it for a couple days before I decided it covered what it needed to.

The action's coming next and, Deo volente the next chapter will be out today yet.

Thank you for reading!

* * *

Sammy was supposed to stay under the bed, but he just couldn't. He was always braver when he could see Dean. When Dean was there, Sam didn't even cry when he got shots. But without him...well, Sam felt very small.

Sam wasn't disobeying, exactly. He was going to stay out of sight, and if anyone scary came in, he'd go right back under the bed.

Okay, yes. He was disobeying. But Dean wouldn't find out...and if he did, he'd understand that Sammy was just too scared to stay put.

Still wrapped in the blanket and clutching the toy car, Sam slipped out from under the bed and wriggled like a snake until he could just see out the bedroom door.

He could see Dean's back and somehow that made things much better. Dean was facing the apartment door and leaning against the couch. There was a sliding sound and a gust of cold air swept through the apartment, making Sam shiver. He wondered if the door was open, but he couldn't see past Dean.

Dean walked slowly toward the door. He was so brave!

Two bangs made made Sam jump in shock and let out a little squeak. One was a gun, the other sounded like crashing wood. Terrified all over again, Sam looked up to call his brother.

But Dean was sprawled on his back on the floor just in front of the door. Sam scrambled to his feet, got tangled in the blanket, and went down hard. He barely noticed. He shot back to his feet and was somehow at Dean's side. Dean's eyes were closed and his arms were stretched out to the side like he was getting ready for a big hug. There was a lump on his forehead and he didn't move at all.

"De," Sam sobbed. Dean always came when Sam cried, but he didn't move. Sam pushed against Dean's chest, shaking him a little, but Dean's head just flopped farther to the side. Tears slid down Sam's cheeks as he shook his brother again.

The front door was just barely open, and the doorknob rattled. "Daddy?" asked Sam hopefully. Blinded by fear for his brother, Sam ignored everything he'd been told about going outside by himself. He opened the door and, seeing no one, took two steps outside. "Daddy?" he asked again.

A sudden, icy wind gusted past, lifting snow in to swirls and eddies. The door snicked softly shut. When the snow settled, Sammy was gone.

WINCHESTER * WINCHESTER

Dean stopped at the little diner that they had already grown to love and ordered way too much food to go. The eponymous Peg herself was the one who brought it out and tried to refuse his money.

"Hope you've got a microwave in your room there, Agent, since your partner's not back yet," she said with a smile.

"Back...?" A tiny niggle of worry made the back of Dean's neck itch.

Turned out, Sam had walked in earlier asking if there were any taxis or car rental places in town -- preferably within easy walking distance. Instead, Peg had given him the keys to an SUV the diner kept so they could pick up snowbound employees in the winter. Though she was 70 if she was a day, Peg fluttered her hand when she told him how nicely Sam had thanked her.

But, no, agent, he hadn't said where he was going, only that it wasn't far. And it wasn't it strange that he hadn't told his partner where he's be, but had Dean tried calling him?

Dean gritted his teeth and excused himself and tried calling before he was out of the parking lot. Somehow he wasn't even surprised when it rang four times and went to voicemail. The message he left was short, but got his point across.

He carried all the food he could no longer smell into the room and angrily grabbed the note from the table.

"No, no, NO, Sammy! You don't escape Elm Street and then go back to Elm Street," Dean yelled at the empty room. He kept up his tirade about Sam's physiological defects as he loaded up a few more weapons. He expounded on all the reasons Sam would make a fine zoo exhibit as he put on his heavier outdoor gear. He invented special tortures for Sam as he drove through the deepening dusk. And when he saw the SUV sitting at the base of the hill, he uttered a Vietnamese insult he'd once heard Dad level at a sadistic cannibal. (It was so horrific that even Bobby wouldn't translate it for Dean, but he was pretty sure it involved a goat with an impossible anatomical condition.)

None of it made him feel any better.

Cursing the cold that slapped him, Dean got out and shined the flashlight up the hill. And froze. There was something huge wending its way down the hill. Dean squinted in the low light. Not something. A teeming black mass of little somethings. Birds?

They were packed so close together that Dean had no idea how they could even fly and they were roughly following the path Sam and Dean had made through the snow.

"What the hell did you do, Sam?" Dean muttered to himself. His gun was loosely in his hand, but he hesitated. The birds were acting weird but not aggressive. Besides, just how many bullets would it take, anyway? Dean watched their progress closely, looking for any sign of what was going on. Because there was no question in his mind that it involved the trouble magnet that was his brother.

The horde veered slightly off course, to come over a massive snow pile plows had pushed up against the hill. At the edge of the bank, the birds stayed hovering while a familiar form dropped out of their midst to land heavily on the snow-dusted pavement. As if they'd delivered their package successfully, the birds exploded out in different directions and disappeared into the dusk.

Dean didn't care about the birds.

"Sam!" In the two seconds it took Dean to get to him, Sam got halfway to standing. "Freeze!" snapped Dean, wanting to check him over before he stood up.

Sam's eyes jerked up. "Dean?" he asked in surprise.

Dean didn't dignify that with a response. Instead he put one hand on Sam's shoulder to keep him from getting up and the other on his chin. There was blood all over his face. "What happened here?"

"It's superficial," said Sam, reaching for his forehead. "Just a scrape."

Dean slapped the hand away and Sam unwisely took the opportunity to try and get to his feet. Dean pushed him back again. "Stay put until I check you over, you moron!"

Dean's tone finally seemed to penetrate. Sam looked somewhere between abashed and defiant, as far as Dean could tell under all the blood. Dean glared. Sam softened. "Just bruises, Dean. I swear. Can I please get off the cold ground?"

"I should just leave you there. Alone. Since, you know, you came out here alone." But the scrape did look superficial under all the blood and Sam was coherent and it was too dark (and too damn cold) for Dean to really assess him. And while the drop couldn't have felt good, Sam had landed well, rolling into it. Besides, the position wasn't exactly defensible.

So instead of the immediate and fuller assessment he really wanted to do, Dean took a quick moment to check Sam's eyes, which reacted equally and appropriately. Dean reluctantly decided they should get to the relative safety of their room. He grabbed up the dropped weapons and tugged Sam to his feet and toward the waiting Impala, unwilling to let go. At the rate things were going, the birds would probably come back and carry him off.

"Uh, Dean? I need to return the SUV to Peg's." Sam sounded a bit sheepish.

"Tomorrow."

"Dean..." Sam was insistent, because of course he was. "I can drive. I'm not dizzy and my vision is fine."

Dean closed his eyes. He knew they couldn't do that to Peg, who'd been so good to them. But that didn't make him any happier. He counted to ten, which didn't do a damn thing for his temper, and fished out Baby's keys. "Gimme the keys and follow me to the diner."

"But I --"

"Can't return them looking like you've just come from a coffee date with Jason Voorhees," Dean seethed.

Sam seemed to see the wisdom in that, because he traded keys with Dean, who also shoved the extra gloves he'd brought at Sam, who had obviously used his own to staunch the blood. "I swear I'm fine, Dean."

Dean ignored that, knowing he was all but snarling. "You ride my bumper, you hear me? Not one slight deviation. And if you get a single scratch or drop of blood on my baby, you're on laundry duty for the rest of your life. Got it?"

Sam was wising up, because he just nodded. He also stayed right behind Dean the whole way and slid into Baby's passenger seat while Dean returned the keys of the SUV to Peg.

Back at the room, Sam bit his lip at seeing the spread of now cold food on the room table.

Dean pointed imperiously to a hardback chair. "Coat off and sit so I can clean you up. Then you can tell me what the hell was so important you ignored everything you know about hunting without backup and couldn't be bothered to call me. And, oh yes, you can tell me where else you're hurt. Don't lie to me or I'll knock you out and strip you and find out for myself."

Sam opened his mouth, closed it again, and sat down. He'd already divested himself of his coat, hat, and gloves. "I swear, Dean, I'm f --"

"Where?!" Dean began to clean the blood off Sam's face and neck.

"Back of my right shoulder. Left calf. Both wrists. Nothing serious. Dean, it's a qallupilluit." He said the first letter like a slightly guttural h sound.

Dean nodded to himself as Sam listed the injuries. He'd noted Sam favoring the shoulder slightly when pulling off his parka, and a hint of a limp. And the way he fell off the snowbank meant he landed heavily on his hands. Speaking of hands, Sam's looked a little better despite his unauthorized excursion.

Sam waited until Dean had finished cleaning the wide but shallow scrape, which was already purpling at the edges. "Dean, did you hear me? I know what took the kids."

Dean taped a bandage over the still oozing scrape. "Yeah, a hall pall. But first, tell me all about your little trip." Sam's sigh was silent, but Dean felt it as he rotated Sam's shoulder.

"Dean...I'm sorry. I mean it. I had a theory and didn't think it would be dangerous to test it." Dean remained silent, a tacit keep talking. "I found rituals of cleansing and protection that Nukilik was doing four times a year. I had a feeling that her sudden death meant she didn't get a chance to pass the job onto someone else."

"Yeah, it doesn't sound like she had any close friendships," added Dean. Sam wasn't off the hook -- not even close -- but his theories were always worth a listen.

"Well, I thought that might be enough to get her to stick around. So I went to her house to perform the ritual. I thought she'd appreciate it and show herself." Sam ducked Dean's glare. "It was daylight...er, mostly. And I brought the shotgun loaded with rock salt."

"But then she went all Hitchcock on you." Dean pushed Sam's sleeves up to check his wrists, satisfied that the other hurts were minor.

"No, actually. She told me it was a qallupilluit. Then something else showed up -- probably the qallupilluit. It started throwing ice at me. The birds...I have no idea where they came into it, but they did keep the ice from hitting me any more." Sam leaned back tiredly. "I really am sorry, Dean. This one -- it's getting to me. I want to find those kids. And I want to go to Bobby."

Dean rose from his crouch and rubbed the back of his head. "I know. I want all of that too. But, Sam, you can't be stupid! You know better! I taught you better than that. You can't -- I can't --" go on if something happens to you. He distracted himself by starting to wrap Sam's right wrist. Neither wrist was really bad, but the right could use the support for a day or so.

"I won't. Dean, I didn't mean..." Sam trailed off and looked truly guilty. He didn't even protest the wrap. "I'll get some hot food and let's figure out how to kill this thing."

"We can eat this. And guess what? That thing is in Dad's journal. He just didn't say anything about actually hunting one. Read it out loud so I can eat. Somebody made me wait." He tossed the book onto Sam's lap and punched his good shoulder.

Sam didn't protest either action. He quickly found the photocopied page that was held in place with a paperclip.

According to legend, the first qallupilluit was created when a young Inuit woman was charged with watching the youngest children of the village while everyone else was out hunting. She was derelict in her duty, falling asleep, and all of the children drowned.

Sam cleared his throat, but didn't comment.

As punishment, the villagers cast her into the water and pushed her away with poles when she tried to reach the shore until she drowned. But even this was considered too small a punishment, and the village holy man, or angakkuq cursed her spirit to bind with the ice itself. Thus was the first qallupilluit created.

Now, when nights are the longest and the ice is deep and dark, a qallupilluit may crawl from the ice and knock such that only the youngest children can hear. She is afraid of adults, but if a child comes out to find the source of the knocking, she will put the child in her amautik, which is a seal skin parka with a pouch for carrying a small child, and will run off without a trace.

The qallupilluit will secrete the child in a cave and continue trapping others until she has taken enough to be satisfied or the solstice arrives. Then she takes all of the stolen children who have survived the ordeal and drags them below the ice with her.

Sam stopped, looking sick. Dean had a feeling he was picturing little Zach Hansen. Dean accidentally on purpose jostled Sam's arm reaching for another ice cold French fry. Sam jumped a little and went back to his reading.

Though a coward, the qallupilluit can pose a danger to adults too, as she has great strength and can control ice to a degree. Some lore indicates she can be distracted if you give her something you love. She fears fire and

Sam broke off. "The paper is torn off there."

Dean sighed. "I suppose it would be too much to hope for it to tell us how to gank this bitch. Here, eat something. Not a request." He shoved a chicken wrap at Sam. "Hey, I think I know how Blake got away. He said the monster took his teddy bear. That paper said that quail chick can be distracted something you love."

"When we find her, you should run over her with the car. As much as you love that thing, she'll be so distracted killing her will be a breeze." Sam took a bite of the wrap, still looking at the journal on his lap.

That surprised a reluctant chuckle out of Dean. But it also reminded him of something...just out of reach. The Impala...

"Dean!"

Sam's suddenly urgent tone brought Dean to his feet, gun in hand. "What?!"

Sam looked embarrassed. "Er. Sorry about that. It's just...I just realized that the solstice is tomorrow night. We have to find the kids tonight if - if any of them are still alive."

Dean swore, both from the adrenaline dump and Sam's revelation. "Cave -- but where?" he snarled.

"Lake Julso is the deepest. It's also the one two of the kids live on, and Nukilik's house is, too. We might just have to start looking for caves."

"Fantastic. Man, we need a flamethrower." Dean was less than enthusiastic. Sam wasn't 100%, they were searching blind without being certain of how to kill the thing, and oh, yeah, it was freaking freezing.

Sam looked guilty again, and Dean knew he felt like he should have been able find out more information. But he knew as well as Dean did that they didn't have the luxury to wait. Dean was all ready for some hand wringing, so he was pleasantly surprised to get a sly grin. "You could get some of Peg's pie to throw at it."

"You could throw your laptop at it," Dean snapped back.

"You could throw your skin mags at it."

Dean sighed. "I'd rather have a flamethrower."

* * *

AN: Three quick references. When Dean talks about Elm Street, he's referring to the Nightmare on Elm Street horror film series. And Jason Voorhees is the chainsaw wielding villain of another horror franchise, Friday the Thirteenth. And "went all Hitchcock" refers to the famous Alfred Hitchcock movie The Birds in which a town is attacked by a flock of murderous birds.

printandpolish: Very nicely done! *bows in admiration* More of Dean's memories coming up!

muffinroo: Sam really should have known better, but he got off pretty easy, IMO. So glad you liked the flashbacks!

Kathy: I think the flashback with Dean letting Sam sleep with the 'Pala is my favorite one in this story. I do like the tie tying too. Thank you so much for your kindness. I've actually written like a dozen children's books...but only for my own kids! There's everything from a superhero whose sidekicks are all animals to rainbow colored kittens who eat nightmares so kids can sleep well. (Hey, I never claimed they were good!) I so appreciate your lovely comments.

BruisedBloodyBroken: Oh, yeah, he was pissed! But Sam got off pretty easy. Sorry for not a lot of action here, but it's coming.

Timelady66: Isn't little Dean sweet?! You are so right (as always!) and Sam will definitely need to have some major mocking coming up. hehe

Kat: I do love the way your mind works! Some of your speculation is right, some is not (though fascinating). I laughed out loud at the statement that you'd stare at Dean's face too! And I figured Dean could let his mask down so the chief could see his determination...maybe he wouldn't let weakness show, but determination yes. At least, I think so.

Shazza: This chapter might have been a little boring, but I promise more action is coming, so I hope it's worth the wait.

stedan: Stay tuned -- the action is about to ramp up! Thank you for commenting so faithfully!

sfaulkenberry: Yup, Sam was an idiot...but that makes it interesting! hehe As always, you are very smart, but I can neither confirm nor deny where the birds came from. *g*

Lena: I do love Dean with kids! When he talks to Lucas it just punches me right in the feels. Ha! Yeah, Sam should've called Dean, but fun would that be? You always give me such wonderful and detailed comments -- you don't have to apologize for not getting them immediately! I appreciate all of it.

Princess of the Fae: Yup!!

Blondie: I sang it too! I'm sorry for your snow...ugh. It's really rainy here, which is pretty typical for April, but that means that everything is green and blooming. And I do like the tie tying memory!