"Come on," she urged. "You're too slow."

"I'm going as fast as I can."

It was easy for her to plow through brush and undergrowth since she was disembodied and all. Sam, on the other hand, was made of flesh and blood, and he was pretty sure his lower legs were going to be skinned past redemption, not to mention his poor shredded jeans.

Sam had no idea where they were going and even less of an idea why he'd agreed to it. Dean would have fallen asleep as soon as Sam left, and there was a very good chance he'd be able to sneak back in without waking his brother up, but if his dad got back first, then there'd be hell to pay. Sam didn't even know what had happened. He'd really never tried anything like this before.

"Emily, I have to go back."

"It's just a little further. Come on, Sam. We're almost to the top. It'll be worth it once we're there."

"A few falling stars aren't worth getting my ass kicked by Dean."

"We're talking about the solar system, Sam," she said. "The whole universe. This is as good as it gets. Besides, you'll be back before he wakes up. Haven't you ever snuck out before?"

"No," and he shrugged at her incredulous expression.

Sam wasn't stupid. The things that were out there were dangerous and real. He didn't mind being out at night, but he knew it was a lot safer with a sawed-off and a dad and big brother who knew how to use it.

"Well, it's about time you snuck out. You're a kid. You should have some fun."

"You sound like a teacher. Only teachers say things like that."

"You mean, telling you to sneak out?"

"No. Saying I should like being a kid. I hate it. Can't wait till it's over."

"How come?"

Sam waved his hand vaguely at the shadows around them, the millions of things that went bump in the night. "It's just stupid, what we do. I hate being scared. I just want to have a normal life."

Emily looked sad. "C'mon, Sammy. We're almost there." She took his hand and held it the rest of the way up the hill.

A waxing moon lit the sky, and low-slung fog hung between the trees below. They were way above the trees by the time they reached the top. Sam let out a low whistle. He'd never seen a sky like this, filled with swirls of glittering stars.

Emily grabbed him by the waist and pulled him off balance onto the ground. They lay next to each other, side by side.

Sam couldn't understand how he'd missed this. It was so much bigger than what he was afraid of. It reminded him of the sacred things that Dad only used as weapons.

"Do you know the stars?" she asked quietly. "I'll tell you their names."

He wished he had time to learn them all.

***

"Sam! Sammy! Sam!"

Sam opened his eyes with a start. There were twigs snapping nearby and the sun was in his eyes. His back was wet, the cold seeping through his clothes. He had no idea where he was.

But then Dean loomed over him, blocking the sun, and it came back to him pretty quick.

"Damnit to hell, Sammy! Hold still, damnit let me look at you. Are you hurt? I woke up and you were gone."

Dean's hands were all over him, and Sam knew his brother was one shade away from losing it. Sure enough, when nothing seemed to be broken or oozing blood, Dean shoved Sam hard back onto the ground.

"I'm going to kill you, Sam." Then he shouted, "Dad! I found him!" In case Sam had any doubts, he put it a little differently. "I'm going to fucking kill you, Sammy."

"I fell asleep," Sam scrambled to his feet and tried to explain, but his dad was storming the hill like he was leading a brigade. John Winchester had that look on his face. The one that scared the hell out of demons.

"What happened? Is he all right? What the hell were you were doing, Sam? Did you check him over? Did he hit his head?"

"I wanted to sleep under the stars," he said, knowing how ridiculous he sounded even as the words were leaving his mouth.

Dean swore and shoved him again, but Dad held up a restraining hand.

"This forest is not a 'sleeping under the stars' kind of place, Sam." The fact Dad wasn't yelling like Dean meant he was really mad.

Sam knew what Dad would say. Everything bad was real, and everything good was probably made-up. He had just wanted to stay in that make-up kind of world a little longer.

***

Resolutely, Sam stared down at his bowl of cereal and reconstituted powdered milk. They were the cheap brand of cornflakes, the kind that came in the plain box, and they were stale because Dean always left the bag open. But Sam was going to eat the whole thing.

All his life, he'd been a picky eater, something that ticked off Dean to no end. His big brother ate everything that was in front of him and was grateful for every bite of it. It was part of the Winchester Manifesto – always eat when food's in front of you – can't be sure when it'll come again.

Sam was the stubborn one, always believing that something better might come along if he waited long enough.

But Dean wanted him to eat, and Sam owed Dean big time. He really hadn't thought about what it would do to his brother to wake up to an empty lower bunk on his watch. Dad didn't have to say anything. Dean was harder on himself than anyone else.

As penance, Sam shoveled in another spoonful and mugged for his big brother, milk dribbling from the corners of his mouth. Dean grinned, and Sam felt better. It was so easy to make Dean happy; Sam wondered why he didn't do it more often.

Dean turned to Dad who was still glowering over his coffee. "Are you sure we need to stay? You didn't find anything, and Sammy needs to start school..."

Dad set down his cup a little too hard and coffee sloshed over the side. "We've got two weeks until you and Sam start school. There's plenty of time."

It always seemed strange to Sam how Dean had this thing about the first day of school. He wanted Sam properly registered on the first day, binder filled, pencils sharpened and always insisted that Sam start off the year with a new pair of shoes, even if the old ones still fit. Most often by October, they'd be on the road again, but it always mattered to Dean that they started things out right.

"I was just thinking that –"

"Dean, I swear we'll be out of here in time to get Sammy set up at a school. I can't just leave without seeing this through. We've driven half way across the country to get here. Whatever this thing is, it's bad. I'm too close to give up now."

"The guy said the thing looked like darkness. That was the only way he could describe it. Darkness in a forest at night doesn't give us much to go on, and besides, that guy hunted birds. Can we trust someone who hunts birds? I mean, what kind of person does that?"

Sam smiled at his brother's conviction that it was so much more honorable hunting ghosts instead. But he stayed quiet. It was unlike Dean to question Dad at all.

"Darkness doesn't flail people, son. This is more than just some shadow spooking people out. That bird hunter found intestines over a quarter mile spread."

Sam was glad he was almost done. He wondered how everyone expected him to have an appetite when they insisted on talking about the job at the table.

"Could've been a bear. Rabies, maybe. Sam, eat more cereal."

Sam rolled his eyes but reached dutifully for the box.

"Rabid bears don't skin people, Dean. Sam, did you take your vitamins? Bobby said you needed more iron last time he ran your blood."

Sam wished he could go to a pediatrician like everyone else, but he pushed his chair away from the table and trudged to find the bottle of vitamins in his duffel. He hated the pale beige pills. They tasted like pee mixed with blood, but he was chewing the awful things next to the sink so he could rinse the taste away, when she suddenly appeared in the window. He jumped despite himself. Funny how she could scare him like that during the day.

She motioned for him to come outside. He shook his head, but she started tapping on the window, making Dean look up suspiciously. Sam sighed. This was going to go over well…

Sam turned away from the window. "Can I go out for a while?"

Almost comically, Dean and Dad gawked at him.

"Are you serious?" Dad asked. "After your little night hike last night, I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Yes you will, Sammy thought. As soon as your monster shows up, you'll forget I'm even here.

But he didn't say that out loud.

"S'alright, Dad," Dean said. "I can go out with Sammy."

Sam resisted the urge to stomp his foot. He knew they'd been worried, but it was daylight, and he was eleven years old. "I don't need you to come with me. We passed a river driving in. I just want to look at it, that's all."

"No way," Dad said. "This thing that's out there means business."

"It comes out at night. I'll be back by lunch."

"No."

"I'll check in with Dean every fifteen minutes."

Dean rolled his eyes…yeah, right... but then he said, "C'mon, Dad. Let Sammy go explore for a while. He'll be all right."

Every now and then, Dean said or did something that reminded him why he loved his brother more than anyone else in the world.

"I've got to go out and talk to that hunter again. I won't be around if there's a problem."

"He'll be fine." Dean got up and knuckled his head. "Behave, Sammy."

Sam said, "I'll be good," ducking away from Dean with a grin.

Dean whispered in Sam's ear, "You better be."

"You better be," Dad warned darkly.

"Otherwise I'll kick his ass." Dean smirked at Sam and took both their bowls to the sink.

Sam knew to take off before either of them changed their mind.

He was half way out when Dean called, "Sam, take your friggin jacket. It's cold out there."

It was late August and was going to be eighty by noon, but Sam grabbed the jacket. He owed Dean. Sam figured he was always going to owe Dean. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Sam left the jacket on the porch.

To Be Continued