A/N Sometimes life is hard...makes it even harder to write...
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Urass pulled on a cord that was around his neck, and as he pulled it up Sam saw it was attached to a small bag.
He kissed the bag, then removed the cord from his neck and bowed, low, holding the bag out to Sam.
Sam took it, such a small thing dwarfed in his large man hands. "What is it?"he asked the urchin.
"Special magic. Powerful magic. Giant Sam need this magic."
Sam sniffed the bag, and pulled a face. "This will kill Bagool?"
Urass giggled. "No. Yes. No." The urchin turned to Bobby. "Will help. Can kill. Not on own. Need to add. Need to
mix. Need to make potion."
Bobby nodded. "Okay, I'm buying. Whadda we need?"
Urass gave them a long list of ingredients, none of which the hunters had with them. "We're gonna have to go
and get these things, Urass" Sam explained to the little creature. "Are you sure we need to kill Bagool first?"
"We really don't wanna leave Sam's brother here too long" Bobby added. The urchin nodded enthusiastically.
"If no kill Bagool, for certain Bagool steal soul of Angry Bobby and Sam Brother. And kill Giant Sam."He folded his
little claw hands in front of him. "Also need the Dagger of Heirarchal. Dip in potion. This kill Bagool."
"The what? Where the hell do we get that? Bobby.."Sam turned to the older hunter, real fear on his face. "Maybe
we should just try to get Dean out before this thing recovers. He's in a stench pile, and he's hurt. We can't leave
him here any longer."
Bobby placed a reassuring hand on Sam's arm. "I think Urass is kinda the expert here. He knows this creature,
and if he says it'll kill us before we can get Dean out, I'm inclined to believe him. Besides" he swung his swag up
over his shoulder. "I happen to know where the Dagger of Heirarchal is"
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"Are you sure this hunter will help us?"Sam asked Bobby as they pulled up to the dilapidated double wide. Bobby
creaked open the passenger door of the impala, and turned to face Sam.
"He owes me. Big time."
"But the dagger? If it's as rare as you said…there's no guarantee he'll let us have it. Bobby, we gotta get Dean
out. He's been in that pile for too long, if he's wounded and that crap is all over him, he's probably running an
infection already." Sam ran his hand through his hair, despair showing clearly on his face, his brow furrowed, his
eyes shining with tears that he refused to shed. "He's waiting for me. He probably thinks I'm dead."
Bobby knew he had to pull Sam out of this mood. He was close to losing it, and if he lost his temper with the
hunter in the trailer, then their hopes of getting the dagger would be lost. He did the only thing he knew how to
do…tough love.
"So, cry me a river, princess" he gruffed, and Sam's head snapped up to meet his glare. "You're not helping Dean
here with your sorry ass attitude. Yeah, he's stuck in the stench pile, but he's unconscious. So suck it up, shake
it off, and get in here and help me sweet talk this dagger outta the tightest mook you'll ever meet." He swung
out of the car, his heart thudding, hoping that Sam would steel himself with the cutting words, and not notice
Bobby's own hands shaking, his eyes also moist with tears of worry and fear.
He heard Sam's door slam behind him as he walked up the rickety steps of the mobile home, the strong steps as
he marched up to meet Bobby were steady and purposeful. Good. He'd donned his mask of Winchester, pushing
his worry and feelings way down, hidden by the need to get the job done. As much as it pained Bobby to force
this on the boy, he knew it was also one of the greatest skills the hunters possessed, the ability to focus on the
job, leave their fears and nightmares to one side while they did what they had to do.
It's what made them such good hunters. It's what they needed to survive. Now, more than ever.
Vadar also padded up beside Bobby, and stood expectantly at the door, waiting to be let in. Sam grabbed his
leash, and took him back to the car. No need to frighten the hunter with the biggest doberman he's ever likely
to see.
He rapped on the flimsy door and waited, hoping his old friend was home. Well, friend was a very loose term for
the relationship Bobby shared with this particular hunter. But they had fought side by side, and in this war
against evil, that made you a friend. When you had to trust your back to another man while facing down
unspeakable evil, it counted that the hunter there with you cared enough to die for you.
And you them.
A slow shuffle and a clicking of the lock at least showed someone was home, and when a shotgun near hit Bobby
in the cheek, he knew who it was. "Pete, you dirty bastard, put that away and let me in. I got a bit of a pickle I
need your help with."
'Pete' threw the aluminum door of the double wide ajar and grabbed Bobby by the front of the shirt. "Maybe I'm
sick of you turning up always looking for help" he growled. Sam stepped up to protect Bobby, who was laughing.
"Maybe you don't get any action unless I'm here giving you a job, you slack jawed ass." Pete laughed then, as
well, and clapped Bobby on the shoulder, leading him into the dark interior of his home. He looked up then, and
caught sight of Sam.
"What's this, you bring me a moose?"he joked, and thrust his chubby hand out to Sam. The young hunter took it,
and shook his hand warmly. The older hunter seemed harmless enough, he was short, chubby, red thinning hair
and too many freckles to count. His twinkling blue eyes shone out with humor and honesty, and Sam felt himself
instantly drawn to the man.
"The moose is named Sam. Sam Winchester."Bobby informed him, and Pete pulled him into the trailer, nearly
thrusting him onto a raggedy armchair.
"John's boy? You the younger one?"
"Yeah. Dean's the oldest."Sam looked to Bobby, his face showing the effort of holding back the story of their
predicament, and his wish to scream out to Pete to just give him the damn dagger right now!
"So, I aint a fool. I know yah dint come here to get a beer and show off the tallest hunter in the USA. What
gives?" Pete pulled open his refrigerator and pulled out three beers, handing them around. "It's nearly dark, you
guys smell of sweat and dirt, and yah look like yah been crawling around on the ground."
Bobby took a long swig, and filled in the hunter, right up to the ingredients for the spell, and the dagger. Pete
said nothing the whole time, he just slowly peeled the label off his beer bottle while he listened.
"So, can you help us?" Sam asked, his eyes pleading.
Pete took a deep breath, and looked up to meet those puppy dog eyes. He furrowed his brow, quirked an
eyebrow, and let out the breath, but said nothing. Sam looked at Bobby, who shrugged, but gave a little
reassuring nod. He knew Pete, and he knew the dramatics was all for show.
"Look behind yah, boy" Pete finally said, and Sam turned to look at the wall behind him. He was confused, at
first, as there was a multitude of framed photographs, a singing fish…then he saw it. A large, ancient looking
knife mounted on a block of sawn off driftwood. He nearly tipped the armchair as he jumped up to grab it, and
Pete started to laugh.
"Aint yah seen Indiana Jones, Sam?" he laughed. "It aint the fancy one that's necessarily the right one." He
walked over to the tall man, and leaned across, taking a small knife from a shelf, it's appearance nondescript, it
looked nothing more than an old steak knife with a tarnished bone handle.
"This" he held the knife up with a flourish "Is the Dagger of Heirarchal. It was forged to kill the Orc of the
Gateway, your Bagool." He handed it to Sam, who turned it over, looking at the unremarkable blade. The only
thing he could see that hinted at its hidden potential was very, very fine sigils, scrawled over every part of the
blade.
"Where's you get it?" Sam asked.
Pete chuckled. "Oh, it was a big fight. Huge." He looked back at Bobby, who handed him his beer. "I had to fight
some of the meanest creatures you'd ever face on this planet! Flesh eating, lying, stinking little urchins. Eat yah
eyes right out of yah head if yah give ém a chance."
"Urchins? They've been helping us" Sam told him, and Pete's smile fell for the first time.
"Don't trust them! Don't believe a word they say!" He slammed his beer bottle down on the Formica bench.
"They're servants of Bagool! They'll do anything he asks of them, and will lay down their lives keeping him safe!
He's like, their, um, their god! They'll bullshit yah until the cows come home, just to get yah away from him!" He
rubbed a hand over his face. "Wait, he's that, um, Yer Ass yah been telling me about? For Christ's Sake, Bobby,
don't yah know your lore on urchins and Orcs?"
"Cleary not" Bobby growled. "They're the ones who gave us the recipe for the potion, and told us about the
dagger. Why would they do that if they're helping Bagool?"
"Hey. Um. Look." Sam walked over and handed the dagger to Bobby. "Not all of the urchins are helping us. Just
one. And Bagool tried to kill him when he found out he was helping us. Is there a chance that he's telling us the
truth?" He sat, heavily, and ran both his hands though his long hair. "Coz we got nothing else. And my brother is
alone in those caves with the orc and the urchins. Unless you know something?" he finished, his gaze once
again pleading with Pete.
The balding hunter shook his head. "The dagger is supposed to kill Bagool. That bit, I'm sure is true. The potion?
I dunno. Maybe it's needed, maybe it's a trick. Don't sound like we got a whole lotta options." He turned to
Bobby. "I got all the ingredients. Let's make it up, and get back to the caves. I got a book here, somewhere,
that's got a bit more info, see if I can find where the hell I put it."
He reached under the counter, and pulled out a large box, filled with just about every herb and enchanted object
Bobby had ever heard of. He looked to Sam, who jumped up and started rummaging through the box to find all
that he need for the potion.
"It's gotta work, Bobby. We don't have a plan B"
"If I can find that book we might just. If yah both do the potion, I'll go look" and Pete shuffled off to the end of
the trailer.
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The urchins moved almost as one, looking like a swarm as they made their way to the stench pile that housed
Dean.
"Kill the Sam Brother"
"Sam Brother"
"Eat the Sam Brother"
"Kill the Giant Sam Brother."
"Kill the Sam Brother. Eat the Sam Brother."
They chatted and giggled as the marched along, the passages of the caves almost totally dark, just here and
there a faint phosphorescent glow lit the ceiling and the walls. They came at last to the large chamber that
housed the pile of rotted carcass that they had hidden the unconscious hunter in.
There, at the door, one lone, tiny figure stood.
"Must not eat the Sam I Am brother" told them. "Must not hurt. Must not kill. Must not touch Giant Sam I Am
brother"
"Not eat brother?"
"Not kill brother?"
"Save for Bagool!"
"Wait for Bagool!"
"Wait for Bagool to kill and eat Sam I am brother!"
Urass shook his head. "Wait. Yes. Wait" and he stood his ground, not letting them pass.
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A/N...please review... if it's not to much trouble...