Title: Now I Know My ABC's

Author: Disasteriffic Kaz

Info: A hurt/comfort romp through the alphabet, one letter at a time from A to Z. Each chapter is a stand-alone one shot. There is hurt, comfort, angst, humor, feels and all around fun.

Author's Note: Set after 5x05 'Fallen Idols' = Hope you all enjoy this one. It got away from me a bit. The boys were being all angsty and shit and I couldn't stop them for a while. Lol

Beta'd by the always awesome JaniceC678 :D– Friend and Muse's co-conspirator.

**Follow me on Facebook as "Disasteriffic Kaz" for frequent fic updates or just to chat!
~Reviews are Love~

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X is for X-Rays and Xylophones -

Sam huffed out an annoyed breath and watched his brother from across the bar while he packed his laptop away. Things were still a little awkward between them; Dean because he couldn't quite let go of the blame he laid on Sam for raising the devil and Sam for his guilt about the same and his betrayal at being pushed away. It had shaken him to his core when he had called Dean desperate for his help and guidance after learning what Lucifer had planned for him, only to have Dean turn his back on him for the first time ever in their entire lives. The hurt of being pushed away and told to stay away at a moment when he had never needed his brother more, the one rock-solid constant in his life, was not something he would easily forget, even if he had already forgiven.

He looked around the bar, noting the similarities to the one he had briefly worked in and felt a moment of claustrophobia. He remembered the feeling of helplessness as he had been held down by Reggie and his buddies, the taste of the demon blood they tried to force down his throat in an effort to make him their personal attack dog. Sam swallowed hard as his heart began to race. He shot up from his chair hard enough to slam it over backwards with a clatter and headed for the door. He needed to get outside. He needed to breathe.

Dean's head spun, attuned to any noise from his little brother, and watched in confusion while Sam shoved through the thin crowd and vanished outside in some kind of hurry. He scowled and tossed his pool cue up on the table. "Sorry, guys. Gotta go." He left the two men he had been playing to stare after him and followed his brother, grabbing the forgotten laptop bag off Sam's table as he passed. He pushed open the door of the bar and stepped out into the cool, night air. He scanned the area and found his little brother at the other end of the building, leaning against a fence with his back to him, and that back heaved like he had run a marathon. Dean sighed and walked over, skirting a suspicious puddle on his way and stopped beside Sam.

"Did the chair offend your delicate sensibilities, princess?" Dean asked and leaned one arm on the fence so he could get a better look at him. Sam's face was pale, eyes squeezed closed tightly, and he had one hand fisted in his shirts over his heart like he was trying to keep it in his chest. "Hey. You alright?"

Sam nodded. Dean's voice sounded muffled in his ears over the thundering of his heart, but he did his best to respond. He fought to slow his frantic breathing. "Fine. I'm fine."

"Right." Dean leaned back against the fence and looked around the full parking lot. "So you're out here hyperventilating for kicks?"

"Am not." Sam opened his eyes finally and glared down at the ground. His heart was still thumping too hard and fast behind his ribs. He could feel it in his throat and he tried to ignore it, to swallow around it. He was humiliated enough to be reacting this strongly, and he didn't need to give his brother any more reason to think of him as a liability. "Just… needed some air. I'm fine."

Dean watched Sam swallow back whatever had caused his panic attack. He saw Sam's shaking hand lower from his chest and slide into a pocket out of sight, and he sighed. "I call bullshit."

Sam smirked at that and flicked his eyes over to Dean's for a second. To his surprise, all he saw in them was honest concern rather than annoyance or condemnation. It loosened his tense muscles a little. He shook his head and turned to lean against the fence beside Dean; his eyes on the shabby bar. "It's just… reminded me of the place I was bar-backing at while we were, you know…"

Dean scowled. "And that required an epic level freak out? Spill, Sam."

Sam's gut instinct was to clam up and say nothing. But it had been driven home for him in the most painful ways possible where keeping secrets led him, thanks to Ruby. "I, uh… Reggie and Tim showed up with some buddies one night."

"Reggie?" Dean considered for a moment and recognized the name. "Hunter?" Sam gave him a tense nod and Dean's frown became a dangerous scowl. "Why do I get the feeling the next time I see him, I'm gonna wanna kneecap him?"

That surprised a soft laugh out of Sam. "Because you're you." He shook his head and let out a slow breath, resigning himself to Dean knowing this and whatever his brother thought of him after. "They heard about me, about what I could do with, uh… if I drank…"

"Demon blood," Dean said darkly and took note of the way Sam flinched.

"Yeah." Sam studied the gravel at his feet rather than risk looking at his brother. "They came in talking about demons and how one of their buddies had been killed. They wanted payback and Reggie… he said he knew just what I needed to go get it for them."

"They gave you blood." Dean couldn't help the knee-jerk reaction of suspicion that blew through him.

"I didn't drink it," Sam said before Dean could ask and damage them any further. "I swear, Dean. I told them to get lost. But Reggie and Tim, they weren't taking no for answer. They threatened a girl, the bartender, then they grabbed me and tried to force me to drink it."

"Wait." Dean straightened abruptly to stare at his brother while that image played through his mind. "They forced you?"

"Threatened to kill her, held me down and forced the crap into my mouth, yeah." Sam gave a pathetic laugh. "I spit it out in their faces."

Dean clenched his fists so tightly he could feel the nails of his hands biting into his palms. He and Sam may have their problems, but hurting his little brother was still an offense that earned a beat down in his book. "What happened to the walking dead men?" he asked between gritted teeth, making an effort to keep his calm in spite of the protective rage that had kindled to life in his gut.

Sam shrugged. "No idea. I, uh, I got loose. Beat 'em up a little, and they ran."

Dean nodded and made a silent promise to pay Reggie and his friends back someday, preferably without Sam knowing about it. Otherwise, his bleeding-heart brother was likely to argue for their lives. "You did good, Sammy."

Sam was forced to look over in surprise at that. He had expected anger, condemnation, maybe even resignation that Sam hadn't been able to keep himself out of trouble. Understanding, though… it choked Sam up with relief and gratitude, and he hastily cleared his throat, blinking furiously to keep the tears in his eyes from falling before he completely embarrassed himself. "Thanks."

"Yeah." Dean nodded, even smiled, and worked to push the need for vengeance down deep where it could simmer harmlessly until he needed it. It was one hell of a relief to know that his brother had not only fought his addiction but spat it in the face of his attackers. He clapped Sam on the shoulder and pushed off the fence. "Let's head back to the motel."

Sam scowled and followed when Dean started walking across the lot toward the Impala. "It's not even midnight."

Dean tossed a smirk over his shoulder. "And? Nothin' for me to hustle in there, dude. Those guys had no game at all," he scoffed and it wasn't a complete lie. "We'll have to stick with the bogus credit cards a while longer. No big deal."

Sam didn't buy it for a second. He was convinced his prickly big brother who was still finding his way back to trusting him was actually pissed off and giving Sam a break. It was a little astounding. "Ok."

"Here." Dean held the laptop bag out to his brother and let him take it. "Next time you leave your toy behind, I'm confiscating it for a week."

"I maybe found us a job, before I… before the…" Sam shook his head. "Doesn't matter."

"What kind of job?" Dean pulled open the driver's side door and leaned an arm over the hood to look at his brother. He knew as well as Sam did that the apocalypse was looming over their heads, and yet he still felt they needed to work at finding their rhythm again. The last case- not to mention seeing his little brother get his ass kicked by a tiny fruitarian- had gone a long way toward that. But he was definitely up for taking another one.

"Something's harassing people in a hospital about five hours from here." Sam met Dean's eyes steadily. "In the pediatric ward."

"Oh, hell no." Dean ground his teeth together and lightly thumped his fist on the roof. "Let's go."

Sam smiled as he opened his door and slid into the car. He had known his brother wouldn't be able to turn a blind eye to kids in a hospital; neither of them could. "I'm thinking it has to be a spirit. There's not a lot to go on, but some of the witness reports I hacked out of the local police server talk about problems with the air conditioning making the whole wing colder than it should be and pranksters moving things, hiding them, locking doors, things like that."

"Definitely sounds like a ghost." Dean pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. "Anyone hurt?"

Sam nodded. "Couple people have been banged up; some scared kids. No one's dead yet, but…"

"Matter of time," Dean finished for him. "Whoever it used to be, sounds like it's building up to killing." It was a progression they were all too familiar with, the way spirits would start out harmless and slowly build in violence until bodies started dropping. "So no idea who we're looking for?"

"None yet." Sam patted the laptop bag on the seat beside him. "I'll have to do some digging on the hospital and see if I can find something."

"Well that's gonna be a bitch," Dean groaned. It was a hospital, finding people who had died there wouldn't be a problem. Finding the right one, however, would be like finding a needle in a pile of needles.

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The hospital loomed over them as Sam crossed the staff parking lot with his brother. "How are we gonna play this?" He flicked his eyes to Dean, seeing a smirk, and rolled his eyes. "Dude, if you whip out a Dr. Sexy I.D., I will shoot you in the foot and THAT can be our cover."

Dean was startled into a laugh and slapped Sam on the back of his shoulder. "Gimme some credit." He dug in his pocket, pulled out white placards on lanyards, and handed one to his brother. "We're janitors."

Sam groaned. "Awesome."

"Hey, no one questions the dude with the mop in a hospital, 'specially in a kid's ward. Buckets o' barf, all day long." Dean slipped his ID over his head, letting it thump onto his chest. "We'll hit up a supply closet and get some overalls so we look the part."

"You realize kids don't just walk around puking all day, right?" Sam asked with a soft laugh as they reached the building and strode in between the automatic doors as they whooshed open for them. "They do other stuff."

"Yeah; they crap and smell funny and drive their older brothers up a damn wall." Dean looked over at Sam with a brow raised and a chuckle at the look of annoyance on Sam's face. For just a moment, it felt like four years ago, before angels and demons and a looming apocalypse. The feeling didn't last, couldn't with so much water under their respective bridges, but Dean tried to hold on to it. He turned once inside and spotted elevators off to their left. "Let's head downstairs and find the janitor's supply room before we go up."

"Yeah." Sam followed his brother and tried not to let it gut him, feeling the tension in the air inside the elevator. They were better, but there was still work to do; Sam knew he still had a long way to go before he would be completely forgiven. The most painful part was knowing that he deserved every ounce of anger. It still amazed him that Dean was even trying, as Sam had no problem remembering the words his big brother had spat at him in anger over a voicemail. He felt like those words would be forever scorched into his soul, but he couldn't blame Dean for his angry outburst. "Hey." Dean slapped Sam's chest and frowned up at him. "You payin' attention?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry." Sam hadn't realized he was following Dean along on autopilot while he had been lost in his thoughts.

Dean frowned at his brother, and something in Sam's eyes told him that he didn't want to ask; at least not right then. He shook his head and led the way, studiously not looking at Sam's face while the elevator dropped and deposited them on the lowest level of the hospital. He followed signs toward the morgue and grinned when his hunch proved to be accurate and he found a door marked 'Janitorial Services'. "Alright. Hopefully, no one's hangin' out havin' a cold one in the locker room."

"Dude. It's a hospital, not a bar." Sam rolled his eyes and peered around the locker room. Miraculously, they appeared to be alone and he smiled. "Huh. Or we got lucky?"

"Hey, it happens." Dean chuckled and started down the first row of lockers lining three sides of the room. He tugged on the handle of each, finding some locked and others open and empty.

Sam spotted a large cabinet to their right and pulled open the doors. "Got it." He pulled a nondescript, gray-green pair of coveralls out and showed them to his brother.

Dean grimaced and caught them as Sam tossed them over. "Hate these things."

Sam sifted through the remaining half-dozen pairs in the locker and sighed as he pulled the largest one out, though by far not large enough. He shook his head and sat on a nearby bench, kicking off his shoes to pull the coveralls on over his jeans. "Should have brought my own. At least they're long enough."

Dean chuckled. "Come on, scarecrow." He zipped up the coveralls, tossed his jacket up on top of the lockers and added Sam's to his. "You know where the pediatric ward is?"

"Yeah. Two floors up. West wing." Sam took Dean's arm and tugged him in the other direction. "None of the attacks have happened during the day, though, so we're probably not going to find much."

Dean shrugged and patted the EMF meter he'd shoved into one of the coverall's pockets. "We'll find something; at least enough to let us know if it's a ghost."

"Dude. Hospital." Sam chuckled. "Finding spirits probably isn't going to be a problem. Finding the right one, that's gonna be tough."

"S'why we get paid the big bucks." Dean snorted at Sam's eye-roll as he pushed past him. "Let's go find us a spook." He smiled to himself as their quick uniform change succeeded in keeping anyone from even looking at them twice as they moved through the hospital. They passed another janitor mopping a hall who did little more than nod distractedly as they went by. "It's like we're invisible."

Sam shook his head with a smile. "At least until they catch us somewhere we're not supposed to be. There." He pointed to a set of double doors marked 'Pediatric Wing' and wrinkled his nose as they stepped through. The smell of urine was even stronger there than in the other halls of the hospital.

"You smell that?" Dean slapped his brother's chest and then took out his EMF meter. "That smell is why 'Little Dean' always suits up. Diaper changin' is not in my repertoire. Did more than my fair share of wiping down your poopy ass. I'm done."

Sam was surprised into a laugh even as he groaned. "You're disgusting."

"Your face is disgusting. Shuddup."

Sam chuckled to himself and pulled his own meter out, keeping it partially concealed in his palm. "You go that way and we'll meet at the other side. There's an atrium in the center of this unit; goes in a big circle."

"Watch your back," Dean ordered seriously.

"No hitting on the nurses. You're a janitor. Try and remember you mop floors for a living?" Sam grinned at his brother and moved away before Dean could hit him. "Jerk," he muttered. He nodded to a nurse as she passed him and only seemed to notice his presence enough to detour away from walking into him. The ward was fairly quiet, apart from the steady beeping of various machines in each room he passed. Sam stepped into each room, looking at the trash cans as an excuse for his presence, and kept his eyes on the meter in his hand. He sighed as each room he checked registered something but no definitive readings. "This is going to take forever."

"Excuse me, mister."

Sam stopped and looked around. He ducked his head into the door beside him and smiled at the small, bald-headed boy in the bed. He couldn't be more than ten or twelve and was painfully thin, dressed in Wonder Woman pajamas that made Sam smile. "Did you mean me?"

The boy nodded. "What's making that funny noise?"

Sam looked down and realized the meter in his hand was steadily whining, though softly. He flicked it off and smiled. "Uh, sorry."

"What's it do?" The boy looked up at the very tall man and decided he liked his eyes. "You don't look like a janitor. Did your uniform shrink?"

Sam flushed and tugged self-consciously at his too-short sleeve. "Uh, something like that." He held up the meter, letting the boy see it for a second before shoving it into a pocket. "It measures, uh, ambient electrical activity." He shrugged. "You know, making sure nothing's interfering with the equipment."

The boy scowled and pointed to a television in the corner. "You know I got nothin' better to do in here than watch 'Ghost Adventures', right? That was an EMF meter." He grinned and crossed his arms. "Start talkin' or I'm'a start yelling intruder alert!"

Sam chuckled and went to sit on the side of the boys bed. "Intruder alert? Really? Alright. Alright." He pulled the meter back out of his pocket and handed it over. "I'm Sam."

"Steve. My big sister calls me Stevie, but if you do it, I'll punch you in the nads." Steve grinned shamelessly at Sam before turning his attention to the meter.

Sam's smile became a grin. "I get it. My big brother calls me Sammy like I'm 12. He's kind of annoying."

Steve nodded as he turned on the meter. He glanced up at Sam. "Kinda nice to have around though… sometimes."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. They are. So, since you watch all that ghost stuff, see anything around here?"

Steve smiled when the meter hummed to life in his hands and shrugged. "It's a hospital, dude. People kick it all the time around here, you know?" He fiddled with the dials on the device, watching the row of red lights twitch up from time to time. "But I hear things."

"Things like what?" Sam asked interestedly.

"You're not really a janitor, are you?" Steve looked up from the meter and met Sam's eyes boldly.

Sam met Steve's blue-eyed gaze, feeling the weight of the child's personality and fight with whatever cancer he was obviously battling, and decided he couldn't lie to him. "No. I'm here with my brother, and we're trying to figure out what's been hurting people." He patted Steve's leg softly. "But you can't tell anyone. No one would believe it, and they'd kick us out."

Steve nodded and his smile widened. "Cool. Knew it." He snickered a laugh. "You don't look nothin' like a janitor."

"So what things?" Sam moved so he could see the meter in Steve's hand when it began to whine more loudly and paid attention as he felt a slight temperature drop in the room. It was gone as quickly as it came and the meter dropped back to a low hum.

"Like that." Steve nodded to the meter. "Cold spots and voices at night." He looked up and out the window. "Sometimes I see shadows, like, that shouldn't be where they are, you know?" He looked back and smiled to see Sam nodding with nothing but sincere belief on his face. "And I hear the nurses sometimes when they come in and think I'm sleepin' while they check my stats. They think someone's playin' tricks; moving things and throwing stuff around." He rolled his eyes. "They think it's one of us kids, but who's got the energy to do that crap around here?"

Sam chuckled along with Steve and took the meter when the boy handed it back. "Thank you. Do you know if there's anywhere the activity seems to be more… frequent?"

Steve shrugged. "Dunno." He picked at a loose thread on the blanket over his legs and sighed. "Do you think… if I die, am I gonna get stuck here too?" He looked up at Sam evenly. "I mean, might be kinda cool to end up bein' chased by ghost hunters."

Sam matched the sudden, sad smile on Steve's face and reached out to brush his fingers over the boys soft, bald head, smiling more when Steve leaned into the touch. "I don't think so. I think you'll find peace." He cupped the boy's head for a moment and nodded firmly. "IF you die. I think you've got a lot of fight left in you, though, huh?"

Steve grinned at that. "Hell yeah, I do."

Sam chuckled and stood. He caught the sleeve of Steve's pajamas and gave it a tug. "Why Wonder Woman?"

Steve looked up at Sam incredulously. "Dude, really? She's totally a bad ass. Why NOT Wonder Woman?"

"Good answer." Sam patted the boy's shoulder and hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "I'm gonna go look around some more and see if I can find whatever's playing around in here. If I need more inside info, can I come back to you?" The question had the desired effect when Steve's grin spread across his face and his eyes lit up as he nodded furiously. "Thanks, Steve. And if my big brother's with me, I apologize in advance." Sam left to the happy laughter of Steve behind him and stepped back out into the hall.

Sam was nearly to the daycare room on the far side of the ward when his brother emerged from the doors with a dark look on his face. "Find something?" he asked and fell in step with Dean when his brother started heading back the way Sam had come.

"Something." Dean tapped the pocket with the EMF meter and shook his head. "That daycare room is hot, and I don't mean the nurses." He gave Sam a small grin but it faded. "There's definitely something lurking in there. We'll have to come back tonight when it's quiet and there's less people around. You find anything?"

"One of the kids here says he's noticed cold spots, shadows, and disembodied voices." Sam waved quickly as they passed Steve's room. "He likes 'Ghost Hunters' and I sort of… told him the truth."

Dean flicked a surprised glance at his brother and then chuckled. "Couldn't resist the puppy-eyes, huh? Now you know how I felt when you were two feet tall."

Sam snorted with amusement and knew that his big brother was still a sucker for that look, regardless of Sam's age. "I really want to stop whatever's messing with these kids. It should be safe here."

"We will," Dean said firmly. He'd seen several of the children on his way through and each of them had tugged at his heart with a desperate need to protect them. He knew exactly what Sam was feeling.

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Sam sat back from his laptop with a groan and scrubbed his hands over his face. "Well, this sucks."

"What?" Dean asked as he came out of the bathroom. He toweled his hair dry and tossed it at the back of his brother's chair. "You find something?"

"Yeah. About six months ago, all the musical equipment in the daycare and the senior center of the hospital were donated from the estate of one Howard K. Martin." Sam got up and let his brother slide into his chair to look at the laptop's screen. "So get this; according to an article I found, the guy supposedly hated children, even his own. His daughter said publicly that he was a bitter, old bastard, and she was donating everything she could to the children's wing because she hoped he would roll over in his grave."

Dean shook his head. "Bet she didn't think it was gonna be literally." He narrowed his eyes and scanned the page Sam had pulled up. "He was cremated?"

"Yeah. So he's gotta be holding on to one or more of the instruments that was donated." Sam sat and tugged on his shoes. "Guess when the disturbances started at the hospital?"

"Six months ago." Dean closed the laptop and ran his fingers through his hair, letting it spike up randomly. "Kinda wish we could have torched his unhappy ass. I'd have enjoyed that."

Sam smirked and nodded. "We'll have to check every instrument to find the one he's holding onto. You can salt and burn that when we find it."

"Let's get moving then." Dean stood and went to his bag to find a fresh shirt. "It's almost midnight. Should be our best shot at doing this without getting busted."

"There was another attack about an hour ago. It hit the scanner while you were in the shower." Sam smiled grimly. "One of the orderlies is in the E.R. It almost killed him."

"Great." Dean sighed. "This gets better and better."

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Sam kept watch while his brother worked at bypassing the security lock on the pediatric ward. Like most of the wards in the hospital, it had been locked down after nine and the doors required not only keycards but pin numbers to gain entry; that or someone at the desk to let them in, and they didn't want to be seen if they could help it. They were in their janitors' uniforms again, and Sam nudged the cart beside him. Their duffel bag was hidden in the laundry basket attached to it. "Hurry up," he hissed as he heard footsteps from somewhere down the hall.

"Shuddup," Dean whispered back. He gritted his teeth together and refocused on rewiring the control box. "Stupid hospital security."

Sam chuckled softly. "Well, they have to keep unsavory types from stealing drugs."

Dean snorted. "Yeah. Like us. Med-kit needs to be restocked."

Sam rolled his eyes and let out a relieved breath when his brother rose and pushed the door open. "About time."

"Next time, you can charm the damn electronic security, college boy." Dean grabbed hold of the cart and pulled it through ahead of his brother. They flattened themselves on the inside of door against the wall when footsteps moved into the hall they had just left and then, thankfully, passed them by. "Alright, let's shag ass before our luck runs out."

They moved quickly and quietly through the pediatric ward. Nearly all of the room doors were closed, and only the muffled sounds of various machines carried through the quiet halls. Sam pulled Dean to a stop before they reached the nurses' station. Dean gave him a nod and inched forward to peek around the corner. He turned back to Sam with a smile, then took their equipment bag out of the cart, and moved quickly across the wide open area. Sam glanced back as they passed and smiled that they had gotten lucky enough to come through when the nurses were on their rounds.

Dean stopped beside each door they passed, wary of running into a nurse, and let out a breath once they turned down the hall to the daycare. He picked up his pace and felt Sam's steady presence at his back. He stopped at the double doors and listened. Hearing nothing, Dean pulled open one side and slipped through into the semi-dark.

Sam pulled the door closed behind them and threw the small bolt beside the handle, locking them in. Hopefully, it would keep anyone from disturbing them while they worked. He glanced around the room curiously and smiled. It was a cheerful space. Bright colored foam mat squares, like giant puzzle pieces, covered the floor. Toys and games were scattered over the mats and the small tables, along with a dozen or more instruments from drums to a small piano and several multi-colored xylophones around the room and on shelves lining the walls. Cardboard blocks the size of Sam's leg were stacked in a corner, ready for fort building, and he smiled fondly at the memory of doing that with his big brother as a child.

"Dude." Dean nudged his brother's elbow and pointed to the blocks. "Remember that time we built a bunker in Mrs. Leery's daycare and she had to get dad to get us out?"

Sam chuckled, warmed that his brother remembered the same moment. "Because you wouldn't stop pelting her with Legos and yelling for reinforcements every time she tried to get in."

Dean grinned. It helped him a little to remember how close they had been, and, he supposed, still were. Although there was a lot of very rough water under the bridge, the bridge was still there, solid and strong – just a little weather-beaten in spots with a couple of loosened planks in the process of being repaired. "Meters," he said and took out his own, letting the bag drop to the floor with a soft thud. "Let's find this thing fast, and then we're building a fort before we bail."

Sam was surprised into a laugh and shook his head. Trust his brother to take an apocalypse break for a little fort building. "You're ridiculous."

"Your face is ridiculous." Dean smiled, watching Sam move to the other side of the room. He turned on his meter and stopped at the first musical instrument he found, a set of bongo drums. "Bet the kids drive the staff nuts with these things." He held the meter over them and shook his head when it only registered a low-level hum and moved on to the next.

"Can't believe that old man hated children so much he's taking it out on them from the afterlife." Sam shook his head. "And cancer kids at that; like they don't have enough to worry about. Suppose it's a good thing the kids aren't typically in here at night." He checked a snare drum in the corner, finding nothing and headed for the small piano under the first of three, long windows. "Total douche, even for a dead guy."

"Yeah." Dean watched the lights on his EMF begin to climb as he neared one of the larger xylophones and frowned. The meter suddenly screamed to life, and Dean spun as one of the bongo drums he had passed suddenly rattled, and then flew through the air away from him. "Sam! Look out!"

Sam gasped and dropped to his knees. The drum slammed into the window above him and then landed on his back. "Ow. Crap." He sat up, letting it roll to the floor and winced at the ache in the center of his back. "Guess he knows we're here."

"Hope he's the only one." Dean went back to the doors they had come through and listened. Miraculously, he didn't hear anyone running toward the noise they had made. "Huh."

"All these instruments," Sam said as he climbed to his feet. "I'll bet the daycare is soundproofed, or close to it, so the noise doesn't carry and disturb the patients."

"Well, that's a relief. This could get very noisy. Watch your back," Dean warned as his EMF began a slow, whining rise again. He heard Sam's echoing his across the room. "That orderly, how'd he end up in the E.R.?"

"Beaten," Sam replied darkly. He moved cautiously to the piano, holding his meter out over it and shook his head, moving on to a collection of violins and banjos on the shelves between the windows.

"This guy is pissin' me off," Dean grumbled. He studied the xylophone as he neared it, and his meter began to whine insistently again. "Think I've got a good candidate over here." He knelt down beside it and saw several smaller xylophones on the floor beneath it. He picked up one of the drumsticks from a pile and tapped it on the keys.

"Dude." Sam stared over at Dean while his brother tapped out a mishmash of notes. "Don't play with the haunted toys."

"You're no fun." Dean snickered to himself but tossed the drumstick down and started tugging the smaller instruments out to check them. His meter continued its steady hum.

"I'm getting something off this banjo, I think." Sam pulled one of them from the shelf and held it away from the others. He frowned as the meter's readings barely fluctuated. "Or not. Maybe it's one of these." He felt the temperature begin to drop in the room suddenly enough to make him shiver. "I think he's coming back for more."

"Look faster." Dean stood to move on to a full set of drums in the corner and stopped. He turned back to the xylophones and scowled.

"What?" Sam asked, seeing Dean pause.

"I don't know." Dean looked at his meter again. He could feel the change in temperature in the room. It was almost chilly, and he could just see his breath puffing out in front of his face with each exhalation. "What the hell's he waiting for, an invitation?"

Sam snorted. "Come and get us?"

Dean staggered back a step as the other bongo erupted up from the floor and slammed into his chest. It took him to the floor and he groaned, shoving it away from him. "Stupid, Sammy. That… crap."

Sam took a step toward his brother and dropped to his knees as one of the smaller xylophones launched itself toward his head. He looked up and barely had time to blink before the larger instrument slammed into his chest and rolled him back into the wall beneath the windows. He strained for breath as the impact had knocked the air from his lungs while struggling to his knees. He didn't see the large xylophone turn as it landed beside him and it took him in the side, sending him back to the floor while one of the banjos from the shelf above slid off and landed on his head.

"Sam!" Dean went with his gut. He lunged across the room to the bag they had brought, grabbed it, and went to his brother. He slid to his knees beside Sam and tore the bag open. "No you don't," he snarled and moved to sit on top of the upended xylophone before it could attack Sam again. He rifled through the bag and found the salt container. Dean opened it and shook curtains of salt out over the top of the instrument. The keys pinged lightly as it shook. Dean slid off to the floor so he could get every inch of the thing and pulled the salt back when it settled motionless to the mats below it. "Ok." He looked around the room and down to his brother and shook his head.

"He's never gonna let us get this thing outta here. Shit." Dean put a hand to Sam's shoulder when his brother moaned softly. "Ok. Ok. Hang on." Dean pulled the lighter fluid from the bag and sprayed that over the xylophone just as liberally, then tucked it and the salt away again. "Ok, Sammy. Need you to wake up for me, buddy." Dean leaned over him and tapped the side of his brother's face. "Sam? Come on. We need to boogie before angry Howie works past the salt. Sammy."

Sam groaned, opened his eyes, and slammed them closed again wishing he had stayed unconscious. His chest and side were a misery of sharp pains. He couldn't take a full breath and his head was pounding from the blow he'd taken. "Dean."

"Yeah. I gotcha. Come on." Dean slung the bag over his shoulder and then took his brother's left arm. "Don't wanna move you, but we don't really have a choice. We can't get caught in here. Come on. Unless somethin' really critical is broken, you gotta get up."

Sam nodded wearily. He took as deep a breath as he was able and held it. It punched out of him on a flood of fresh pain as Dean hauled him to his feet. He couldn't do anything but cling to Dean's shoulder or he would have gone back down to the floor.

"Breathe, Sammy. Shit." Dean wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulders while his brother wheezed in his ear. He dug in his pocket and took out a lighter. "Alright, let's go."

Sam got his eyes open when he heard the catch of the lighter's wheel. "Can't… hospital."

"With industrial grade sprinklers, dude." Dean shook his head and tossed the lighter toward the xylophone once they reached the doors. He waited to make sure it caught with a whoosh of flame, unlocked the door, and dragged Sam out into the hall. There was a roar of cold wind behind them and an angry howl, then only the crackling of flames. Dean smiled. "Got him. Come on. We need to get out of sight."

Sam nodded once and held on to his brother. He shuffled painfully one step at a time and jolted as the first alarm sounded. He looked up at the row of doors ahead of them and tried to catch his breath. "Four…" Sam panted. "Room… fourteen. C'n hide… Steve."

"Ok. Ok. Just keep breathin', buddy." Dean half-carried Sam down the hall and stopped at the door marked 'fourteen'. He pushed it open and slid inside, letting it close behind him as the sound of running feet and raised voices began to echo in the hall outside.

"Sam?"

Dean looked up and saw a boy of ten or twelve sit up in the bed to stare at them with wide eyes. He took in the pale complexion and bald head and knew this was the boy Sam had spoken to earlier in the day. "Hey, kid. Mind if we lay low here for a few?"

"What happened to him?" Steve's heart began to race when he saw blood trickling down the side of Sam's face.

"Uh… had a little technical difficulty." Dean smirked. "Ghost hunting didn't go smooth."

"Hey… hey, Steve." Sam managed to raise his head enough to smile at the boy. "Not as bad… as it looks. S'm'brother. Dean."

"Nice to meet ya, Stevie." Dean looked between his brother and the boy when they both began to chuckle, though Sam's was more of a wheezing, broken gasp. "What'd I say?"

"It's Steve," Steve said with a smile and a roll of his eyes. He patted the bed beside him. "You better put him down before he falls over. He gonna be alright?"

Dean nodded and eased his brother down to sit on the side of the bed. He propped Sam up with his hands on his shoulders and really took a look at him. "You sit up on your own for a sec, Sammy?" His brother gave him a slow nod and Dean let go, smiling when Sam swayed once but remained sitting.

Sam felt small hands take his left shoulder and looked over with another smile. "M'alright."

Steve snorted in disbelief. "Yeah. Me too."

Dean chuckled as he tugged his brother's shirts up. The laughter quickly died. Sam's chest was a riot of bruising, and he was bleeding from a couple spots where they xylophone had caught him just right. He put his fingers lightly on skin that was already swelling and knew Sam's injuries were beyond his skills. "You're heading for the emergency room, little brother. This needs x-rays."

Sam groaned but nodded. He had heard and felt something crack when he'd been struck and breathing was proving difficult. Dark spots were creeping into his vision, and he worked to keep them at bay, knowing he would have to walk at least out of the pediatric ward. "Should… should go while… distracted."

"Right." Dean stood. "Keep him from falling over for a minute," he said to Steve and smiled as the boy took a firm grip of Sam's shoulder to steady him. "I'm gonna check the hall."

Steve moved a little closer to Sam. It made him hurt listening to the short, shallow breaths of the man. "Did you get it? The thing hurtin' people?"

Sam nodded. "S'gone. Promise."

"Thanks." Steve smiled. "Think I know what I wanna be if I grow up."

Sam swallowed around the lump in his throat and managed to raise his left arm and wrap it around Steve, pulling the boy in. "Ghost hunter?"

"Ghost hunter," Steve said with a grin and watched Dean as he came back to them. "Just past the nurse's station, there's this unmarked door. It's a staff elevator. They use it to get meal carts and stuff up here without clogging the halls." He chuckled. "Us kids sneak out that way to the courtyard at night sometimes. They're clueless."

Dean grinned and cupped the back of the boy's neck for a moment. "You're ok, kiddo. Alright, Sammy. Think everyone's busy puttin' out my handiwork in the daycare. Let's go while the getting's good." He levered Sam back to his feet and slid along his side. "Thanks, Stevie."

Sam looked over and put a hand on Steve's shoulder before the boy could argue. "Not worth it. S'never gonna stop."

"Sammy, shuddup and start walkin'," Dean said with a smirk. He understood what his brother was saying and enjoyed the soft huff of laughter from the boy on the bed. "Take care, Stevie." He chuckled when Steve flipped him the middle finger and pulled the door open. A quick check showed the hall still clear, and Dean hefted Sam against his side and walked as quickly as he could, pulling Sam along. The fire alarm still pierced the air when he reached the door Steve had mentioned. Inside was a wide alcove and a single elevator. "Nice. Alright, Sammy."

Sam let his head thump down onto his brother's shoulder once they were on the elevator and fisted a hand in the front of his coveralls. It was getting harder to breathe. "Dean…"

"I know." Dean stopped Sam from swaying into the wall while the elevator slowed and bounced to a stop. "Here we go. Hang on."

All Sam could do was focus on breathing, one too-short breath after another, oblivious while his brother pulled him along through echoing halls and the sound of voices rose and fell around him. The pain in his chest and back was a misery, tightening and stabbing at him and he muttered a garbled apology as the darkness finally won and he slipped into unconsciousness.

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"Mr. Bonham?"

Dean jerked his head up from his hands and lurched to his feet at the sound of the name on their fake insurance. "Yeah." He watched a doctor in a white lab coat wave to him.

"Could you come with me?"

"Is he alright?" Dean demanded. They had wheeled Sam away as soon as he had staggered into the E.R. with his unconscious brother in his arms. He was going to give Sam serious hell later for weighing so damn much; the kid was a behemoth even eating as little as he usually did.

"He's going to be fine. I'm Doctor Lasky. Follow me." Dr. Lasky smiled and led the way.

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face in relief as he followed the man. "You're sure?"

The doctor nodded. "You said he fell?"

"Yeah. Right down the stairs in front of me." Dean didn't have to fake the remembered fear in his voice. He followed the doctor through a door and smiled at the sight of his too-tall, little brother in a hospital bed with his feet hanging off the end, covered in gray hospital socks. He went to the bed and rested a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"He has a minor concussion." Dr. Lasky went to the other side of the room next to a light box hung on the wall. "Several ribs on his right side in the front show hairline cracks, along with some rather serious sprains of the muscles around them. Breathing is going to be very painful for a couple weeks, but you'll need to make sure he takes several slow, deep breaths every hour to avoid the risk of pneumonia."

"No problem," Dean assured the doctor and looked down at his brother.

"He has two broken ribs in his back on the left side, and I'd like permission to admit him for surgery to fix one. It's been, well, shattered is the best word for it. There are several pieces and I'm concerned that one of those pieces could puncture his lung or the pleural sack around his heart."

"Jesus," Dean breathed. "Yeah, ok. Whatever he needs."

"It's a relatively simple procedure. Won't even leave much of a scar." Dr. Lasky smiled again. "Shouldn't take more than hour, if that. Now, I do have… questions."

"About?" Dean frowned.

"Your brother's x-rays. They're… I don't even know what I'm looking at to be honest."

"What…" Dean's voice trailed off as the doctor slid one of the films onto the light box and he remembered; the Enochian sigils Castiel had carved into their ribs to hide them from the angels. "That's… well…"

"I can't even imagine how something like this is done!" Dr. Lasky stared at the x-ray and the intricate patterns carved into his patient's ribs.

Dean ran a hand over his face and coughed. "He, uh… got into some weird stuff at college." He smiled and shrugged when the doctor looked at him in disbelief. "I think it involved laser surgery or something, and a girl. There's always a girl, right? Crazy college kids."

Dr. Lasky shook his head and turned off the light box. He did not believe the man for one moment, but he didn't have a better or more rational explanation on his own. "I'll bring the paperwork for the surgery. I have an operating room ready to go."

"Thanks, doc." Dean watched the man leave and turned back to his brother once they were alone. He chuckled. "Kinda forgot about the angel graffiti on our ribs. We may have to get Cas to repair that for you later." He leaned down and palmed the side of Sam's neck. "Hey, come on, Sammy. You gonna wake up for me?" He smiled again as Sam moaned softly and his eyelids began to flutter. "That's it." He wanted his brother to know he was going into surgery before waking up with a new scar. Dean frowned as Sam's head turned on the pillow and he began muttering 'no' over and over under his breath. "Sammy?" Dean gave him a little shake and a moment later, Sam came all the way awake with a small gasp as his eyes shot open.

"Dean." Sam felt his racing heart begin to slow with the comforting sight of his brother while Lucifer's voice faded in his ears.

"What was that about?" Dean asked and watched Sam's eyes flick away.

"Nothing. It's…" Sam's voice trailed off on a pained groan as the multitude of injuries suddenly made themselves known. "Ow."

Dean watched Sam close his eyes and grimace through the pain. He wanted to demand an explanation. Oh, he was reasonably sure he knew the devil had been talking to his brother in his dreams again, but he wanted Sam to tell him that. He wanted the secrets to stop, but he couldn't kick the kid while he was down. He sighed and squeezed Sam's shoulder lightly. "Hey, the doc's gonna be back in a minute. You need some surgery." He squeezed a little harder when Sam's eyes flew open again. "Easy. It's no big deal. He says it won't even take an hour. They just need to piece a rib back together." He chuckled. "Casper kicked your ass with that xylophone, dude."

"Ugh. Don't remind me." Sam swallowed and opened his eyes again. "So… surgery? Really?"

"Unless you wanna try a punctured lung for kicks, yeah." Dean shrugged. "Also, they did x-rays." He stopped and waited, nodding when Sam's eyes went wide. "Yeah, didn't think of that. So the doc may think you did some crazy college thing."

Sam's eyes narrowed at his brother. "Crazy college thing? Really?"

"Well, I didn't know what to tell him." Dean patted Sam's shoulder. "Said it was some laser thing. Don't worry about it. Just tell him you don't wanna talk about it and look embarrassed. That should be easy."

"Bite me, Dean." Sam groaned. He pulled his head up when he heard a child's laugh in the door and grinned to see Steve leaning in the door. "Hey."

"Hey, Stevie." Dean smiled and waved the kid over. He frowned. "Should you be outta bed?"

Steve rolled his eyes and went over to stand beside Dean. He yelped once and then giggled when Dean lifted him up and sat him gently on the bed beside Sam's legs. "I'm fine. Had to come down here for an MRI anyway. I just wandered off to come check on you," he said looking at Sam. "You ok?"

"Yeah. I am." Sam smiled and patted Steve's legs. "I've got some cracked ribs. They're gonna fix it."

"He'll be fine. Promise." Dean smiled at the boy and looked back to his brother. "Long as he doesn't get into any more arguments with musical equipment."

"Shuddup." Sam smirked. He wished he could sit up and do anything, but even moving his arms was enough to steal his breath with the pain in his back. He settled for squeezing Steve's knee. "Thanks for checking up on me."

Steve grinned. "Us little brothers gotta stick together, right?" He stuck his tongue out at Dean as he slid off the bed to his feet with a soft thump. "See ya' later, Sam."

Dean chuckled, shaking his head fondly and turned back to his brother. "You need anything?"

Sam shook his head and let out a slow breath, trying not to aggravate his ribs. "Are you sure we got the ghost?"

"Yeah." Dean leaned a hip on the side of the bed comfortably. "I was goin' stir-crazy in the waiting room, so I ran back upstairs for a quick check. The xylophone's half-melted and they're gonna have to replace some of the flooring, but it's quiet up there." He smiled. "We did good, Sammy."

"Yeah." Sam let his eyes close. He felt Dean's hand on his shoulder again and absently listened as the doctor returned and Dean pestered him about the surgery, and he wished that all their problems could be solved as easily as a ghost in a daycare. He missed the simpler times; he missed when life was as easy as an endless, cross-country road trip going from hunt to hunt with his big brother, music blasting and nothing more world-shattering ahead of them than which greasy diner Dean would drag him into that night.

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The End.

Next Chapter: Y is for Yara-ma-yha-who