Hooray – the alerts are working!! It's a miracle!! Took me an hour and a half to answer all the reviews. Whew! Next chapter will not be up before Monday – sorry. I wasn't able to get ahead like I did last week. (Kim, Amy – harassing me about it won't do any good. Not that it will stop you, of course…)

Hotshow has been a huge help and influence on this story, it would not be the same without her. Thanks, hotshow! And a HUGE thanks to everyone following this story. When hotshow asked me to write a Limp!Sam fic – I really had no idea what a response it would get. At the time I thought – eh, what the hell, I haven't done that yet. Over 90 people have this story on alert now, and 28 have it in their favorites. This is a personal best here! Thanks to all of you!!

Chapter 11

"Sam!" Dean raced into the salvage yard, hoping Sammy did not hurt himself again. The regular dangers of a salvage yard were multiplied at night, and they already made one emergency room trip today. He imagined if they had to go back, someone reporting him to Child Services. Dean nearly stopped at the ridiculous thought, shaking his head as he searched for his brother. "Sammy!"

"Dean! Over here!" Sammy stepped out from behind a car carcass and waved.

Dean slowed down, trying to get his breathing under control. "Sam! What the hell are you doing out here?"

Sammy looked down, holding something against his chest. Dean squinted in the poor light. He pointed at Sam. "What do you have?"

Sammy held it out, walking slowly toward him. Was that Batman? "Where did you find that? I looked all over for it earlier."

Now that they were closer, Dean's eyes scanned Sammy up and down, looking for any signs of injuries. There was nothing obvious. "You okay?" he asked when Sammy still did not look up at him.

Sammy nodded, still looking down. "Lion-o found Batman."

Dean waited for Sammy to walk beside him back toward the house. A huffing and puffing Bobby headed their way from the far side of the house. "Found him!" Dean shouted, waving.

Bobby waved back then bent over, hands on knees, to catch his breath.

"Sammy, you can't just take off like that. Especially at night." Dean tried to stay calm, not to yell, scream, rant and rave. He could feel it welling inside him, but he was a master of ignoring emotions, pushing them deep down where he could pretend they didn't exist.

"Sorry Dean." Sammy's head hung dejectedly.

"Quit looking like a beaten dog," Dean gave his brother a playful shove. "Now, where was Batman?" He held open the door for Sam and Bobby. Bobby shot him a look that clearly said 'what did I tell you?' Dean shrugged in response. Really, what else could he do?

"I dunno. Lion-o had him." Sam mumbled, hugging Batman tight. "Do I still get a story?"

"Who is Lion-o?" Bobby asked, before Dean could answer Sam's question. He nearly answered for Sammy, but at the look of interest on Bobby's face made him refrain.

"From Thundercats. He's the leader." Sammy turned his head to the side, so he could look at them without raising his head. "Story?" he asked weakly.

"Did you see Lion-o?" Bobby pressed, taking a step forward. "Outside?"

Dean looked between Bobby and Sam. What the hell was this? Lion-o was just a frigging cartoon character. He was ready to jump in and shoo Sammy off to bed when Sammy nodded.

"Lion-o found Batman."

Wait a minute. How could a cartoon character find anything? Was this the same as Batman battling the Joker, or did Sammy really see something out there? That breathless anxiety gripped him again, squeezing the air from his lungs.

"Sit down, Sam," Bobby pointed to a chair.

Sammy sat on the edge of the chair, clearly expecting to be punished, his head hanging lower than Dean thought possible.

"Sam, can you tell me what Lion-o looks like?" Bobby asked, leaning over to see Sam's face.

"Like Lion-o!" Sammy shouted, head snapping up. If Dean thought he was out of patience, the expression on Bobby's face told him that the old man's reserves were tapped out as well.

"Sammy," at the reproach in his voice, Sammy's head dove down again.

"Sorry," Sammy mumbled.

"Sammy, Bobby never saw the Thundercats. Just tell him what the Lion-o who found Batman looked like." Dean stood beside Sammy's chair. With some hesitation, he put a hand on his brother's shoulder, squeezed gently.

Sammy looked up at him through those long bangs. Dean played with the idea of finally cutting Sammy's hair, but his brother's hair had always been long. It was supposed to be that way. If he cut it, maybe Sam would never remember who he was supposed to be.

"Tell him," Dean said softly, "so we can get to storytime."

Sammy's smile reached all the way to his eyes. "Lion-o was almost as big as me, had fur all over his body, kinda gold, and big hair." Sammy held his hands up behind his head, demonstrating how big Lion-o's hair was. It sounded just like the frigging cartoon.

"What color was the hair?" Bobby asked, leaning closer to Sammy.

Dean had no idea what the frigging hell was going on here, but he was damn sure Bobby's interest was more than casual and that alone scared the crap out of him.

"Kinda brown," Sammy said, frowning, "but in the cartoon it's more orange. And Lion-o had really big claws. He's not supposed to have claws." Sammy's head shook, scattering brown locks around.

"Claws?" Dean asked, jumping in this stupid conversation. "It had claws? Did it try to hurt you?" If Bobby was so freaking interested then whatever Sam-might-have-seen-if-he-wasn't-just-imagining-it could well be dangerous.

Sam scratched his head. "I'm not sure."

His heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean, you're not sure?"

Sammy's face scrunched up. "Well, he was trying to help me…" his voice trailed off.

"Help you? By finding Batman?" Dean asked before Bobby could open his mouth again.

"After that. I asked him to help me…" Sammy's head dropped down again as his voice trailed off.

Dean wanted to yell, scream at Sam to finish the damn sentence, but that look on Bobby's face stopped him cold. He held on to Sam's shoulder, trying to find that peace and strength they shared earlier. When he finally found his voice, it was calm. "What did you ask, Sam?"

"To help me remember," Sammy squeaked out.

Dean felt like smashing his head into the wall, both hands, and then throwing himself in front of a truck. Shit! Sammy felt so desperate to remember he was willing to ask for help from a goddamn cartoon character? Dean used his free hand to cradle his face. When did he turn into such a monster?

"Sammy," he sighed, gripping his brother's shoulder. "Come on, let's get ready for bed."

He saw Bobby's mouth open. "Do you think we're in any danger inside the house?" Dean asked, before Bobby could say anything else. When Bobby shook his head, Dean added, "Then any other questions you have can wait until morning. Good night, Bobby."

"Night, boys."

Dean kept a tight hand on Sammy all the way upstairs, not releasing him until they reached the bathroom. He stood outside the door, listening as Sammy took his bath and brushed his teeth. Too much happened today, from strokes to the ER to disappearing acts to living breathing cartoon characters. Dean was having trouble just letting Sam – no, Sammy – out of his sight this long. He could not breathe properly until Sam stepped out, hair dripping onto the clean t-shirt, still looking like a guilty dog.

"Where's your towel?" Dean asked, holding out his hand. Sammy reached back and grabbed the wet towel off the floor. Dean chose not to say anything about that. Really, what was the point? He took the wet towel and motioned for Sammy to lean down. He rubbed the towel over Sammy's hair until it didn't drip quite as much as it did before, then tossed it into the hamper.

"Come on." A gentle shove was all it took to get Sammy to go to bed. Dean decided he would shower in the morning. Might as well enjoy putting it off while he could, starting Monday he was going to be a sweaty mess pretty much all the time. After a quick trip to the bathroom, Dean joined Sammy in the bedroom.

"I have a new story for you tonight, Sammy," Dean said as he kicked his boots off.

"I…I still get a story?" Sammy asked, the sheets pulled right up to his eyes.

"Yep. This one is about Batman, when Robin first came to live with him." Dean settled onto the bed, wondering if Bobby had any extra pillows. It would be nice to have a couple to prop himself up during storytime.

"You mean Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson," Sammy corrected him, just before ducking back under the sheet.

"Right. Bruce and Dick." Dean rolled his eyes at the ceiling, mind racing ahead to create the story he needed to tell. "Well, you know Dick was a kid when he came to live with Bruce, and it was hard for him to adjust to living with someone other than his parents. Bruce tried to be patient, but some days it was too much."

"Really?" Sammy asked from under the sheet.

"Yep. One day Bruce was in a really bad mood. Dick broke a window, put a dent in the limo, and a hole in the wall, all before lunch."

Sammy giggled. "I'm never that bad."

Dean refrained from commenting. "Bruce was so mad, Dick was afraid he would be sent away, that Bruce didn't want him to live there anymore. So Dick decided he would run away first, before Bruce could kick him out. He got some clothes, put them in a bag, and grabbed some bananas and stuff from the kitchen as he sneaked out." Dean paused, but Sammy did not say anything. "When the house got real quiet, Bruce wondered what Dick was up to now. He thought Dick was causing more trouble, so he searched the whole house. No Dick. Then Bruce noticed some of Dick's clothes were missing, and because Bruce is really Batman, he also noticed that the bananas were missing from the kitchen."

"Batman is really good at that," Sammy mumbled.

Dean glanced over. Sammy's eyes were trained on him. Dean returned his attention to the ceiling. "So Bruce went looking for Dick. He searched the whole neighborhood, but by then Dick had been gone for over an hour so he had a good head start. Bruce realized he was never going to find Dick unless he became Batman. Even though it was still daylight out, Bruce went to the Batcave and changed into Batman. Then he took the Batmobile and went out searching for Dick."

"Was he mad?" Sammy's voice had that squeaky quality to it again.

"You bet he was mad. He wanted to ground Dick for the rest of his life, lock him in a room and throw away the key. You know why?" Dean turned to look at Sammy.

"Because he was bad." Sammy nodded, pulling the sheets right up to his eyes.

"No. Because Batman, Bruce, was so worried. He was scared that something really bad had happened to Dick, and if it did it would be all his fault. He would never, ever, be able to forgive himself. Then he spotted a boy jumping out of an alley to look at the Batmobile. It was Dick!"

"Yay!" Sammy's head popped out from under the sheet.

"Batman stomped on the brakes and ran after the kid. Dick was so surprised to see Batman coming for him, he just froze to the spot. He didn't know Bruce was really Batman yet. Batman grabbed him and hugged him really hard. Dick was very confused. Then Batman put him in the Batmobile and raced back to the Batcave. The whole drive Dick kept thinking, am I being kidnapped by Batman?" Dean rolled on his side to watch Sammy's reaction.

"Inside the Batcave, Batman looked at Dick for a long time. Then he made a decision. He pulled off his mask."

"Cowl," Sammy said.

Dean smiled. "Okay, he pulled off his cowl, so Dick could see it was Bruce. Then Bruce told him, 'You scared the crap out of me. You are not allowed to leave the house without me, understood?' Dick was so surprised he just nodded. Then Batman went over to the Batcomputer and started working on something. When Dick got curious, he went over to see what it was. It was a costume that had lots of bright colors. What do you think Batman said when Dick asked him about it?"

Sammy grinned. "That it was for him?"

"Yep. And that it had to have bright colors to make it easier for Batman to keep an eye on him." Dean stared hard at his brother.

"So…I'm not allowed outside by myself?" Sammy asked, eyebrows raised.

"Nope."

"But I can go outside with you or Bobby?" Sam always did need everything to be crystal clear.

"Yes."

"Do I have to wear bright colors, too?" He asked, a grin playing over his lips.

"It wouldn't hurt," Dean rolled onto his back, turning off the light. "G'night, Sammy."

"Night, Dean."

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Bobby rummaged through his desk. Papers were stuffed haphazardly into the drawers, bent white corners sticking out everywhere. As he searched, Sam's description of Lion-o kept repeating in his head. He had to find that damn clipping. Frustrated, he slammed the top drawer shut and started on the next. One of these days he was going to have to invest in a real filing system. Wait, what's that? Nope, that one was a possession. He dug deeper into the drawer. On the side of the drawer, near the bottom, was a newspaper clipping. Bobby slid it up, trying not to tear it. His eyes darted over it. This was it!

He set the clipping on his desk. Walking straight to the stack he wanted, Bobby pulled out the fourth book from the top without checking the spine. He flipped it open and searched for the right page. There it was. Returning to his desk, Bobby placed the clipping inside the book as a bookmark. Now that he knew what they were dealing with, he had a few extra precautions to take before going to bed. Assuming he could actually fall asleep, that is.