Dean watched, mouth slightly agape as the tiny form of Oscar actually fit between the slits of the vent. He now knew exactly where the kid had been running to when he'd been snatched up off the ground. Trying to get out of the room before he got captured or worse… and all because Dean was a human, and therefore dangerous.

There was a slight trickle of guilt inside him as he stood again, staring down at the vent that was embedded in the wall. A month ago, he would have called people like that impossible, or the scattered ravings of a hunter who'd had one too many beers at the bar. Now, he not only knew it was possible, he was holding his own brother in one hand, and staring after a second person that he'd managed to terrify during the first few minutes of meeting him.

"Do ya think he'll come back?" came a small voice, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Dean glanced down at the ten year old boy that was standing in his hand and forced out a grin despite his uneasy thoughts. Sam deserved a friend his own size. "Of course he will. He was excited to meet you, wasn't he?"

Sam crossed his arms and hugged them close, making himself smaller on the hand. "I hope so. He was fun. And can you imagine living in the walls like that? Or being able to climb wherever you wanted? I wouldn't have gotten stuck up on that desk when dad made you help him with the car!"

Dean winced at the memory as he walked the few steps back to the bed. John had insisted his older son help him with repairs, and in his urgency Sam had gotten stranded on his own for over an hour. He'd curled up into a ball by the end of it, unsettled and afraid of the huge room arching overhead. Dean swore never to let his brother get trapped like that again after he saw how terrified Sam was when they got back in. He'd swept the small form of his brother up into a hand and hadn't left his side the rest of the day, doing his best to help Sam's shudders go down.

Helplessness wasn't something any of them had ever expected to befall anyone in their family. At least when it came to fighting monsters, there was always a weak spot. You just had to find it. But Sam was too small to get himself around even the simplest room without help, and could get attacked or snatched up by anyone or anything.

"Oz is definitely a pro at it," Dean conceded, wondering how long the kid had been wandering their room before he'd got himself noticed. The little guy looked younger than Sam, and much shorter and scrawnier. There might be as much as a half inch difference in their height. It didn't sound like much, but considering Sam barely topped out at 2.6 inches, it was a huge step up for them.

Dean let Sam step down from his hand onto the bed, and put the controller down next to him. "Find us something good to watch, okay?" he said with a smile. Both of their shows had ended during Oscar's discovery, unnoticed in the excitement of a person Sam's size.

Sam bounced eagerly over to the remote, excited about having the control over the television. It almost never happened with the way Dean usually claimed it for himself. Though he caved to Sam's suggestions more often than not, hating the fact that if he wanted to, he didn't have to even acknowledge that Samwanted to watch something different.

He never wanted his brother to be helpless with him.

With the screen flickering in the background, Dean dug out John's journal from under his own pillow. The leather bound book was snug next to the colt that his father had given him for protection, just one of the many weapons the fourteen year old boy had learned to use when he was younger. Even Sam had used a gun growing up more than once, but only at shooting ranges. And now Sam was working on his knife skills since a gun was out of the question until they tracked down the witch and broke his curse.

Dean sat at the one table in the room, shoving aside the remains of their pizza box as he read through the journal. He'd never chanced across anything about people so small, but he wanted to be certain after running into the little guy that had crept his way into their room. He was considering putting a line of salt across the vent, just in case there was anything lurking about that would take advantage of that weak point in the room. Before watching the kid slip through the slats in the vent, he'd never thought of it being used to get into their room, since not even Dean's slim frame would fit, never mind a man like John. But it was better to be safe than sorry.

Dean didn't move from the table even after Sam found an episode of Batman playing, a clearly hopeful expression shot over his shoulder towards his big brother.

Later that night, Dean crawled into his bed, slipping the journal back under his pillow. Nothing jumped out at him, exactly the way he'd expected, and he had no clearer idea about where a person like Oscar came from. The kid had been in their room all alone, risking capture for crumbs he found on the floor. He'd never even had food as simple as a slice of pizza.

Dean resolved to himself that if the kid came back, he'd be trying more than just some pizza. No one could go without knowing the wonders of hamburgers and pie.

Sam was flopped on the unused pillow on their bed. He'd wrapped himself up in one of his own shirts from before being cursed, now big enough to serve as a blanket the size of a house for the ten year old. His breathing was even and steady as Dean sank into the mattress nearby. He didn't even budge when his older brother wrapped a strong arm around his pillow to instinctively draw it close. Even in sleep, he didn't want Sam far away. The salt lines across the doors, windows and now vent might not stop a determined assailant and Dean would always make sure he was there for Sam.

Both brothers slept peacefully that night.

Oscar made his way stealthily through the vent, his cloth shoes hardly whispering against the cold metal. Even though he used a thicker cloth for his shoes, the metal vents always stole the warmth right out of his tiny feet. He tried to move quickly, but the bundle of chocolate in his arms was cumbersome enough to slow him down.

Not that he'd ever complain. The sweet smell clinging to the foil-wrapped parcel made Oscar's mouth water every time he noticed it. Even though his stomach was still full from the pizza, he couldn't wait to get home to try a piece.

Several feet down the vent, Oscar slowed to a stop and stooped to put down the Hershey Kiss. He could see in the near nonexistent lighting in the wall after growing up in these conditions, but suddenly he wondered if even Sam would notice the loose panel of metal on the wall. Oscar worked his tiny fingers into a crack and hauled back on the piece of worn out metal that would barely fit an adult.

An average adult, anyway. Oscar, being young and very small anyway, fit easily through the opening, following after the chocolate he pushed through ahead of him.

It was only a slight step down to the dusty floor between the walls. Oscar gathered up his chocolate, nudged the panel closed again with a foot, and continued on towards home. He had to backtrack a little, walking alongside the huge metal corridor of the air conditioning. From the outside, it looked like a blocky metal snake, winding its way through the walls.

Oscar rounded a support beam and found his turn, heading down one more passage within the walls closer to home. It wasn't far from there.

When he finally pushed aside the block of wood that was his door, he was noticing how exhausted he really was. Getting caught by a human could really wear a kid out. He left the chocolate just inside the doorway as he sealed it back up, thinking maybe he'd have to wait for the following day to try the candy.

"I'm home," he announced to the front room.

As usual, no answer came.

Oscar went about putting the chocolate and his other meager findings in his pantry, which was really just a tall shelf with a bit of tattered cloth curtaining it. He had no chance of reaching the higher shelves, so he shoved the Hershey's onto the lowest one.

He left his bag on the table, which was a plastic lid from some container propped up on miscellaneous found items, including a smaller block of wood, some stacked bottlecaps, and a yellowish, empty pill bottle. There were only two chairs, both of them spools of sewing thread. Only one of them still had any string wrapped around it. The only other furniture was a ring box that served as a nice comfy chair with its foam setting.

Most of these details, Oscar knew from memory better than sight. At this hour, no light was leaking through the one crack in the far wall of the small room. Oscar had known this home for his whole life. He'd spent a lot of time soaking in the details of it when there was more light.

There were only two other rooms to the home. Both were just big enough to hold the beds contained within them. Oscar went into his mother's room, where a big piece of foam and folded fabric made up the mattress. Every blanket he owned was stacked on top of it, and Oscar snuggled up underneath them for warmth, making sure his cold feet had extra cloth wrapped around them.

The smell of her had long since faded from the bed. But Oscar had gotten used to sleeping there, and hadn't bothered to go back to his own bed. It was more comforting to rest there, in his nest of blankets.

"Goodnight," he muttered to the empty home.

Oscar slept peacefully that night.

A/N

Now we all know the truth about Oscar's family...

Can I adopt him now?

Next Chapter: December 7th