Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

November 21, 2002

"Adam?!"

It was nearing midnight in Fayetteville, Arkansas and the two still-hunting Winchester sons were investigating a rarely used warehouse that had been reporting gruesome deaths for the last month, ranging from 19 year old Katie Barton to 62 year old Gregory Carter.

Dean was currently charging through a large storage room confused and terrified. He didn't know what happened; five seconds ago Adam had been standing two feet away from him, flipping through some old documents, making a smart ass joke about record keepers and their social lives. Dean had turned to flash a light down the hall and when he looked back the next second he found a bunch of old papers, a desk, but no brother.

"ADAM?!"

This was so not happening. The only time Dean had ever allowed the 12 year old to do anything more than research and bone burning during a hunt and he'd already lost the kid.

Crime scene photos of the four victims the haunt had already claimed swept through his mind, all with their insides on their outsides and eyes spread wide in pain and terror. Dean tried to shake them from his head, but they just kept crawling back with more ferocity and clarity than the time before as time wore on and Dean was still unable to locate his brother.

"DAMN IT, I SWEAR TO GOD, YOU BASTARD! IF YOU DO ANYTHING TO MY BROTHER I'LL RIP YOU A PART IN A WAY YOU CAN'T EVEN MATCH!" Dean screamed loud enough and with enough force that if the thing was in the warehouse, it would hear him.

Clenching his jaw, Dean pulled out his phone and dialed Adam's cell, clinging to the desperate hope that he'd answer. After a couple rings, Dean heard something to his left and turned in its direction.

The muffled sound was coming from behind a couple of rusted oil barrels and as Dean put the phone down (but didn't end the call) and pulled his gun into a ready position, he couldn't help but cringe at the thought of what he might find there.

As he rounded the congregation of barrels he let out a breath of relief when he found no dead baby brothers. What he did find was Adam's cell phone and he could now recognize the muffled noise as the song Heart of Gold by Black Label Society, meant to alert its owner of an incoming call. What didn't have him quite so relieved was the smear of blood he found on the vent it sat bellow.

Well, at least now he knew where to look.

Dean shook his head at himself as he tucked the phones away; He knew he should have called dad for help on this one. Gruesome murders weren't something you were supposed to take lightly, even as a hunter.

Pulling off the cover of the vent, Dean got down on his hands and knees and started crawling, gun and flashlight held well ahead of him. He followed the small blood smears until they finally lead him to an opening in the bottom of the vent that overlooked what Dean assumed must be the basement because he didn't remember ever having to climb at any time during his travels.

The room was dark, only lit by a bright light that sat far down the large storage room, which was empty but for a few crates that were stacked high at the far wall. What really caught Dean's attention was the dark form of his little brother, struggling but securely tied to a drainage pipe against a shadowed wall and a pale, slightly disfigured looking creature that was just as small, but bulkier than his brother.

The pale figure had its head tilted and was making quiet clicking noises of excitement as it circled closer to Adam, seemingly unsure of where to start, but the malicious look in its eyes gave away its intentions.

"Fucking goblin." Dean muttered in his quietest voice as he assessed the scene. His eyes kept getting caught on his brother and, more specifically, the look of terrified helplessness he carried. Dean had hoped to never see that look on Adam's face but should have known it was inevitable from the get go. That look crawled onto every hunter's face during one hunt or another.

Dean shook himself and focused on getting that look off his brother's face.

A goblin. That wasn't entirely bad news. Goblins were relatively mortal if you shot them enough times, but they were annoyingly persistent and tended to be more than a little gruesome. Dean ran through all his options in his head but knew he had to act quickly, so only one option seemed plausible. And that was to jump in guns a-blazing.

Dean shifted his body and kicked out the vent cover before moving back to his stomach and leveling his gun on the monster that had looked up at the noise and moved towards the opening with insane speed. Dean let go his first shot before the creature had the chance to jump at him causing it to reel back and let out a screech that sounded surprisingly like a dying crow. Dean landed two more before he could no longer get a clear shot as the wounded goblin had retreated to a far wall.

Taking advantage of the time allotted, Dean stored his gun and hoisted his legs through his make shift firing hole, jumped the considerable distance to land in a professional crouch on the cement floor and rose to his feet, looking all the part of the hero for his little brother.

Speaking of whom; he made a beeline for.

"Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean," Adam was repeating, panicked and looking like he was about to pass out but not taking his eyes off him, seemingly afraid he'd disappear if he did.

"Hey, hey, hey," Dean replied quickly, trying for calm, but the words came out sounding breathy and just as panicked. Putting his hands on the side of the kid's head to keep him from shaking so much and he brushing some of the hair out of his eyes, "I gotchu, kiddo. Calm down, it's okay. Are you hurt?"

"Get me out, get me out, get me out," Dean clenched his jaw in concern; yeah, he knew how that felt. One thought at a time was all Adam's brain could seem to process at the moment; hence the fearful mantra.

Dean nodded and brushed his hand through his kid brother's hair one more time before pulling his knife and turning his attention to the ropes holding his brother in place, which were made quick work of.

As soon as the last rope was cut he suddenly found himself being clung to with an iron grip by a little brother who was suddenly very, very quiet. Knowing the kid needed some reassurance and maybe Dean did too, he wrapped his own arms around the smaller form and was suddenly struck by how much bigger he'd actually gotten in just the 2 years Dean had had him.

Dean was abruptly pulled from his rather untimely ponderings as Adam jump away from him.

"Dean!!"

He'd only had time to register surprise before he was suddenly being gripped in a very different sort of embrace. Dean yelled out and threw himself backwards to land on the creature that was making road maps in his back.

"Damn it, fuck!" Dean gasped as he rolled off the squished goblin that simply refused to die.

Dean only had time to throw out his hands defensively and close his eyes as the goblin took another dive at him, claws out and ready for ripping, but was surprised when impact never came. Dean opened his eyes when his brain registered the now familiar, dying-crow-screech to find his brother holding Dean's forgotten knife through the small monster's neck.

Adam quickly let go, looking more than a little disgusted (with himself or the creature was unclear) and backed away with haste when the creature turned on him and let out an angry and frustrated scream and began moving forward. But that was all the time Dean needed to pull his gun, level it and shoot the bastard in the back of the head.

There was a moment's pause when blood burst from the front of the monster's head before it fell forward in an ugly, bloodstained and dead heap.

Breathing heavy, Dean got painfully to his feat: He needed to make sure his brother was okay, the poor kid looked traumatized.

His torso covered in blood due to both Dean's final shot and the up close and personal stab he'd delivered, coupled with the shell shocked look on his face, Adam looked like the poster child for gruesome events that scar kids for life.

Dean took him by the shoulder and pulled him away from the scene towards the only door in the room, which Dean assumed must lead to the stairs out of this place.

It didn't take long for Dean to navigate their way out of the building and to the Impala parked in the back of the building. Dean opened the passenger's side door and gently nudged Adam to take a seat before crouching in front of him, sighing as he did. He put his hands on the sides of his little brother's neck and forced his chin up with his thumbs to make him look him in the eye.

"You hurt?"

Adam just gave an uncaring shrug, "Not really."

Dean waited for more, giving Adam a stern stare, noting the kid's cut lip.

"Meaning…"

"My head kinda hurts where it knocked me out, but it's mostly just bruises and scratches from being dragged around a ventilation shaft." Adam muttered obediently, knowing his brother would make him strip down if he had to.

Dean let the kid's head fall so he could look for the wound and grimaced when he immediately noticed the large bump forming at the side of Adam's head, oozing a steady trickle of blood. He let his brother raise his head again and caught his eyes again before they could run away.

"Are you okay?"

Meaning more than just physically, and Dean knew Adam knew that.

The younger Winchester bit his lip, before just giving another small shrug.

That would be a no.

Dean nodded, "I'll fix it." He stated confidently and without doubt, giving his baby brother a little hair ruffle (careful to steer clear of his head wound). He got to his feet with a pained grimace, one which didn't go unnoticed and brought Adam flying back to the present.

"Dean, your back."

"What?" Dean asked, confused, as he nudged his brother's legs into the car.

"Your back, Dean. What about your back? It was on you."

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother's concern, "Worry about yourself, will you?" He told him exasperatedly before closing the passenger door and making his way to the driver's side and dropping into the seat there, relaxing backwards, feeling extremely tired.

Looking to his brother, he was met by an unhappy frown, making Dean roll his eyes again.

"I'll call dad in the morning and get him to come stitch me up. Happy?"

"Could call him now." Adam muttered stubbornly, still unhappy with the situation.

"Dude, it's one-thirty in the morning."

"So…"

Dean just shook his head at the kid and laid his head back.

After a few moments' silence as Dean thought over the night's events and Adam continued with his worried thoughts, Dean let out an unamused snort and sat up, pulling his keys out as he did. He could just imagine what his dad would say about his judgment call to take Adam on this hunt, out of all hunts to take him out on for his first real job.

"Well that definitely didn't go as planned."

Adam let out his own snort, "Really?"

There was a relieved pause as they pulled away from the warehouse.

"You did good in there, kiddo." Dean praised his brother, resting his arm along the back of the bench seat so he could give his brother a little nudge to the shoulder with his forearm. He was happy to note that this finally had the kid pulling out a small smile.

A/N: Okay, my first attempt at writing action and didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped, but it's the best I can do for now and I promise to work on it in future chapters:) Thanks for everything guys! Merry Christmas!