Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke. I only own my character Mary-Elisabeth "Emmy" Winchester.
Emmy: 6 y/o
Sam: 17 y/o
Dean: 21 y/o
"The rugaru is the result of a genetic mutation that, when expressed, causes the affected human to experience a murderous, cannibalistic hunger," Bobby read out loud. His elbows rested on a pile of books and files, taking in the entire space of his desk. "Outwardly the rugaru can appear human for years, never knowing its true nature, but eventually it becomes consumed with a terrible hunger. During this time, it feeds on any meat it can get its hands on – "
"Bobby, just skip the MO," John cut him off through the phone, causing Bobby to roll his eyes. "Just tell me how to kill the sucker."
Bobby flicked through the pages, searching for the needed information. "It says here that one of their vulnerabilities is fire."
"So basically torch the bastard?"
"Yeah – "
"Okay, got it," John abruptly hung up the phone.
Bobby stared at the horn for several seconds before he put it down. "You're welcome by the way," he grumbled to himself. He reached under his desk, in the drawer, and took out a bottle of whiskey.
"Was that Dad?" Sam appeared at the door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Yeah," Bobby nodded as he filled his tumbler glass. "Wanted to know how to kill a rugaru."
"Did he say when he'll be back?"
Bobby didn't fail to notice how the teenager didn't show any concern towards his father and didn't ask about his wellbeing. "No," Bobby shook his head as he put the bottle back in his drawer, making sure to lock it. With kids running around in his house, especially a six year old curious girl, he could never be too safe. "You need him?"
"No," Sam answered quickly, maybe a little too quick.
Bobby eyed Sam carefully. It didn't take rocket science to know that things weren't all rainbows and sunshine between the boy and his old man. They've always bumped heads, even before Mary died, but since Sam turned sixteen, the situation got a little out of hand. They're both stubborn and hard headed. John is like a flame, a flame that couldn't be tamed until he got his revenge. Sam is more like the oil, every single thing he does or says to rebel against his father is like adding fuel to the fire. And Bobby feared that one day, John would literally explode.
Sam cleared his throat, snapping Bobby out of his thoughts. "So hey, uh, that guy from yesterday-"
"Colin?"
Sam snapped his fingers. "Yeah, that one. Well he just dropped of his car to fix. Dean's already giving it a check-up. You think you still got some parts of an '85 Chevy pickup?"
"What kinda parts?" Bobby asked as he took another sip.
"Just some hood ornament and a left rearview mirror."
"Should be somewhere in the junkyard. Don't go past the sign though, the cars over there are for sale, so don't touch those," Bobby said.
"Got it," Sam nodded. He patted the doorframe twice as he turned and started to leave.
"Oh, and tell that sister o' yours to stop feedin' that dog. I bought that damn peanut butter for her not for that four legged barking machine," he grumbled.
Sam only chuckled with a shake of his head and started walking to the back of the house where the garage was.
SPN
Dean rolled himself under the blue car to check the oil. It was a sunny, hot afternoon and he could feel sweat tricking down the back of his neck. He didn't realize how focused and concentrated he was until someone crawled under the car, joining him.
"Booh!"
Dean startled, hitting his head against the underside of the car. "Son of a bitch," he cursed with a grimace. Wincing as he touched his forehead. He turned his head to glare at the six year old who looked back at him innocently.
"Sorry, Dean. I didn't mean to scare you," Emmy apologized, biting her bottom lip.
Dean knew his sister well enough that she wasn't really sorry. In fact she was two seconds away from bursting into a fit of giggles. He could tell by the way her big blue eyes twinkled in mischief and the trapped bottom lip to keep her from laughing.
And just as he predicted, she suddenly started giggling. The bubbly sounds erupting from her small body instantly warmed him up and Dean had to try hard not to laugh too. It was just contagious.
What kinda of a man am I? I can't even stay mad at her if my life depended on it, he thought to himself.
Dean shook his head with a sigh, a small smile twitching as his lips, as he rolled away from the car. "Emmy, get outta there before you get your clothes dirty," he told her as he stood up. He looked up from wiping his hands with a rag when his baby sister approached him. He took in her shorts and stained tank top and realized that it didn't matter anymore. She couldn't keep her clothes clean for more than half a day. But at least it was just some smudges of peanut butter and something that looked like Sharpies. Dean had learned his lesson and knew not to bother changing her clothes anymore, not if she continued using her shirts for tissues.
"Where's your best friend?" Dean asked, referring to the dog that was practically her shadow. Dean wasn't a big fan of dogs, especially not ones that followed his baby sister everywhere and made her do things like, jumping into a river to fetch his stick, climbing onto a tree to get him an apple, wake her up at the middle of the night to make her sleep next to him outside or make her steal food from the cupboards for his own selfish needs. The dog was making his sister a slave, he had her wrapped all around his paw.
"He's in his kennel, eating peanut butter," she said as she pushed the bangs away from her eyes. The action was futile, as the blonde strands of hair only kept falling in her face.
Dean picked her up and put her on the hood of the car. "Emmy, what did Bobby say about feeding the dog?" He gave her a pointed look as he gathered her hair in a messy bun, making sure to clear her freckled face.
"But it's Rummy," she pouted as if that should be enough reason to give the dog a pass.
Dean leaned both his hands on either side of her and lowered his head. "These are the rules, cutie pie." He kissed her button nose. "If you keep giving him all our food, then how are we supposed to fill this little tummy?" He briefly tickled her stomach causing her to laugh.
"I can eat candy," she shrugged.
"Candy is food too, sweetheart," Dean chuckled.
"Sammy says it's not," she pointed out.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Off course he would say that."
"Say what?" Sam asked as he suddenly appeared. His eyes fell on his sister and he sighed. "Emmy, I literally just changed you into that top an hour ago. How did you manage to get peanut butter on it again?"
Emmy looked down at the stains. "I didn't do it. Rummy did. It's his fault."
As if on cue the black Rottweiler came strolling into the garage. His muzzle had clear evidence of some leftover peanut butter. He ignored the two boys and went straight to the youngest Winchester sitting on the hood. Emmy giggled as he started rubbing his head against her legs.
Dean tried to push the dog away with his hand. "Hey, get away from my baby sister. You manipulative bitch."
"He's not a bitch, you silly. He's a dog cause he's a boy," Emmy explained.
"Exactly, and you should stay away from boys cause they're only trouble," Dean said as he picked her up in his arms, away from Rumsfeld who whined at the loss of his best friend. "You asked Bobby about the parts?" he asked Sam.
"Yeah, they're in the salvage yard. You wanna come with me, honey?" Sam asked Emmy.
"YES!" she shouted causing Dean to cringe at the high pitched noise. "I wanna sit on your shoulders so I can be as tall as Willie the Giant."
"Okay," Sam chuckled. "Put this on first," he said as he helped her in her sweater.
"Now, let's go over the ground rules first," Dean told her. "No wandering off, no getting in the cars, no climbing on the cars and no Rumsfeld."
"But Rummy will be sad. He'll be all alone." She stuck out her bottom lip as she looked down at the dog circling around Dean's legs, trying to get her attention.
"He won't be alone, cause Dean will keep him company," Sam reassured her. "Right Dean?"
Dean looked at Sam like he was crazy. Sam gave him a knowing look, to which Dean slowly nodded in realization. "Oh, right. Yes, yes, I'll stay with Rumsfeld." Dean reached down to pat the dog's head. Anyone could see that there was no genuine meaning behind the touch except for Emmy.
"Will you play fetch with him? Cause I promised I'd play with him."
Dean smiled at his sister, patting her back. "Off course I will."
"And will you gave him something to drink?"
"Sure," Dean nodded.
"And will you cuddle him too? He likes to be cuddled when he goes to sleep."
"Will do," Dean lied.
"And will you tell him a story about-"
"Your ride is leaving, sweetheart," Dean kissed her, effectively shutting her up before he hoisted her on Sam's shoulders.
"I can almost touch the clouds!" she beamed, reaching her hands up.
SPN
As Sam wandered about the salvage yard, in search for the '85 pickup, he tried to split his attention in two. One part looking for the car, the other part listening – trying to listen – to his baby sister firing one question after the other. There was a time where Sam took the time to answer each one of them. He always believed that her curiousness and her will to know more was a good trait they got from their mother. It made them explorative and smarter than their age. Dean would call them walking encyclopedia's but Sam knew that all that information she was taking in was bound to be useful one day. Besides, there's no such thing as learning too much.
But there is a thing as asking too much.
They had been walking for fifteen minutes now and Sam had long stopped bothering answering Emmy's question. It was tiring and honestly, he didn't feel like thinking so much. Sam also discovered that maybe she didn't even want an answer to her questions, she just basically said the first thing coming to her mind. Which sometimes resulted into funny, strange, thought-provoking (even for Sam) questions … but mostly funny questions.
"Sammy? Is the moon really made of cheese?" Emmy asked while Sam felt her playing with his hair. He hoped she wasn't putting braids again, he'll never hear the end of it from his brother.
"Rummy always waddles his tail when he's happy. Why don't we have tails? I would love to have one; a white, furry tail with little black dots on it like the Dalmatians."
"Why did we used to be monkeys, and why aren't we still monkeys? I'd be a very pretty monkey but not like the one from The Lion King. He has a big butt."
"Sammy, why can't I see my eyes? If I cross my eyes, my nose stands in the way so they can't see each other. Sammy, can you cross your eyes?" Emmy lowered her head upside down until she was face to face with her brother, their noses touching.
"What?" Sam was a little startled, he hadn't been listening.
"Can you cross your eyes?" she repeated. Sam did as she asked making her giggle. "You look funny!" she laughed as Sam kissed her forehead before she got back up.
"Sammy, where does the sun go when it's dark? Does it go to sleep like us? I think he has a huge bed somewhere next to the stars, but we can't see it, cause we're also sleeping when it's asleep. I wonder if it snores. I don't think so, or it would wake us all up."
Sam couldn't help but chuckle at the six year old's logic. He wasn't about to correct her, it was nice to have another point of view of life. He actually liked her version better than the scientific explanation.
"Miss Carlton said that thousands and thousands and thousands of years ago, meteors hit the earth. But I think she's lying cause how come the crocodiles survived? And why does Miss Carlton have a mustache like Daddy?"
"Uncle Bobby always snores so loud, sometimes it wakes me up. Dean says that when uncle Bobby was little, he swallowed lots of trumpets and that's why his snores sound like trumpets. I'm sure Dean is lying cause uncle Bobby's snores don't sounds like trumpets, they sound like airplanes. I think uncle Bobby swallowed lots of little airplanes."
Emmy dropped her head next to her brother's, plastering her cheek against his. "Sammy, I wanna get down now."
Sam looked around the salvage yard, hundredth of cars scattered about the field. He still hadn't found the car he was looking for. He reached his arms behind him and lifted his little sister off his shoulders, putting her down on the ground. As soon as her little feet touched the ground, she already started walking around. Sam rolled his eyes. "Emmy, remember what Dean said."
Emmy squinted her eyes from the sun, scrunching up her little nose and looking up at him adorably. "That candy is food?"
"No, after that," Sam snorted. "And don't believe everything Dean says."
"Oh, the rules?"
"Yeah," Sam nodded, crouching down in front of her. "He said, don't wander off. Stay close where I can see you."
"Okay, I'll go play with the tires," she said pointing at the piles of tires.
"Be careful, alright," Sam warned, briefly tweaking her chin.
"Okidoki!" she smiled, skipping to the tires.
Sam wandered off to look for the pickup, making sure to keep an eye on his sister. After looking for another fifteen minutes, he finally found the beat up red Chevy. Sam quickly got to work and opened the hood to get the right parts.
SPN
Sam lost track of time when he suddenly felt a tug on his t-shirt. He looked down to see his baby sister, her cheeks and sweater were smudged with dirt, her messy bun escaped from the rubber band – there were more loose strands of hair around her round face.
"Sammy, I'm tired," she yawned as she rubbed her eyes with her dimpled knuckles.
Sam looked down at his watch and did a double take when he realized they've been here for almost an hour. "Crap," he muttered to himself. He had to hurry it up before it gets dark or Dean and Bobby will get worried. "Why don't you sit there," he pointed at an empty beer crate with a piece of carton on it, "and I'll wrap this up so we can get back, okay?"
Emmy nodded tiredly. "Can I play with your iPod?"
"Sure, honey." Sam fetched the music player from his pocket and handed it to her. "Hey, where's your sweater," he asked when he suddenly noticed her bare arms. It wasn't cold or anything, summer in South Dakota could get really hot in July but still.
Emmy shrugged her little shoulders. "I think I left it with the tires. You want me to get it?"
Sam shook his head. "No, no. Let me finish this first and we'll get it afterwards."
"Okidoki," she nodded as she hopped to the crate.
SPN
Sam wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his arm when he finally finished collecting the parts. He probably would've done it faster if he had a better knowledge of cars but that has always been Dean's department, so he wasn't that good in it. In fact, he was never really good with things that got his hands dirty. He was more of a research kinda guy. Give him a book and he'll amaze you with the things he could do with the information.
Sam looked up at the blaring sun and noticed it getting down. The clouds weren't sky blue anymore but had a pink-purplish color to it, signaling him that it was time to get back. Emmy must be exhausted. Speaking of Emmy. Sam noticed that her humming died down and that it was awfully quiet … too quiet.
"Emmy?" Sam called her but got no response. He gathered his stuff in a box and walked over to the crater only to find it empty. "Emmy!" Sam called again but still no response. "Emmy, this is not the time to play hide and seek! Let's go back home, honey! I know you're tired!"
Sam went quiet for a full minute, hoping to catch a sound that may lead him to his baby sister. But there was not even a peep. Sam wasn't one to panic, he was actually the calm one. But this was differently. This was about his Emmy and he couldn't find her. He tried to ignore the fear and concern settling in the pit of his stomach and cupped his hands around his mouth. "EMMY! EMMY!" He walked around the yard, all the while yelling her name but nothing.
Sam raked his hands through his hair nervously. This was bad. This was really bad. A million of things that could happen to her flew through his mind, only making him more worried. After spending another ten minutes looking for her, Sam decided he needed help. Grabbing his phone, Sam speed dialed his brother.
"Dude, what's keeping you so long? It's almost seven and Emmy still needs a bath, it's your turn to fix dinner and Bobby needs help with-"
"Dean," Sam cut his brother off, instantly shutting him up. It was as if Dean could sense by the slight tremble in his tone that something was wrong.
"Sam … " Dean said cautiously, almost dreading to hear what his brother had to say.
"You need to get here. Like right now," Sam pressed urgently.
"What's going on?" Dean asked dreadfully.
"It's Emmy…" Sam exhaled loudly, running a hand down his face, "I can't find her."
SPN
"EMMY!" Dean shouted at the top of his lungs. His voice was getting hoarse after yelling for twenty minutes now. He was past the stage of being concerned and scared, he was worried to death now. All kinds of scenario's flashed before his eyes, and all of them had his sister in some kind of danger. What ate at him the most is that she was just a six year old naïve, vulnerable and innocent little girl who fit the description of the victims of so many evil lurking around this world. She was easy bait, the kind that couldn't fight back, the kind that was too easy to lure in, the kind that was too easy to hurt or worse … Dean shook his head, trying to get rid of the images of his sister being hurt. It physically pained him thinking of that little adorable girl – that possessed his heart in so many ways – being hurt.
Sam panted as he finally reached his brother. He had run the entire perimeter of the salvage yard, but in vain. Dean gave his brother a questioning – begging – look and it took everything in Sam to shake his head. Dean's shoulders visibly sagged in disappointment.
"Okay, we need to change our strategy," Dean decided firmly, wetting his lips. "So where did you last see her?"
"On that beer crate, right behind that red pickup I was working on," Sam said for the millionth time. "Dean we've already scoped out that place, there's nothing-"
"Where was she before that?" Dean cut him off midsentence.
Sam sighed tiredly. "She was playing with the tires."
"Then let's check those out again."
Sam huffed. He was almost sure that their sister wasn't even in the salvage yard. They've literally looked everywhere.
"What if she got back to Bobby's?" Sam wondered out loud as he followed his brother.
"Bobby's home in case she gets back," Dean answered, his eyes scanning every inch in front of him.
"Dean, I doubt she knows her way back. What if she got lost on the way?"
Dean spun around quickly, causing Sam to almost bump into him. "Would you stop saying stuff like that?" he forced through gritted teeth.
Sam swallowed hard and nodded faintly. He didn't realize how distressed and troubled his brother really was until he looked at the anxious green eyes. Dean might seem all collected on the outside but his eyes betrayed how he really felt on the inside.
"I'm sorry, Dean."
"Just keep moving." Dean turned around.
Sam didn't say anything else and followed suit. "Hey, did you find her sweater?"
"What sweater?" Dean asked.
"She left her sweater with the tires," Sam elaborated. "You didn't find it?"
"No, there was nothing-"
Dean didn't get the chance to finish his sentence when a loud bark suddenly interrupted him.
Sam eyed his brother. "You brought Rumsfield?"
"No. He must've followed me," Dean grumbled.
The black Rottweiler suddenly came strolling to them, the red sweater between his teeth. The boys' eyes widened when their gaze fell upon the piece of clothing.
Sam crouched next to the dog, rubbing it's head. "Hey buddy. Where did you find this thing?"
"Sam, don't waste your time on that bitch."
"Dean," Sam glared at his brother. "He's a dog, he probably has a better chance at finding her." Dean rolled his eyes but kept his opinion to himself as Sam pressed the sweater against the dog's nose. "Go find her, buddy. Go bring her back," he said as he patted the dog's back. Rumsfeld instantly started running off.
"And you think this'll work?" Dean asked skeptically.
"It's worth the try."
Dean scoffed. "Sam, that dog can't even smell the difference between peanut butter and rat poison."
"Dean, I really don't think now's the time to get picky. Just accept the help and keep looking," Sam said firmly.
"Fine," he shot back. "You stay here, I'll check out the roads and call Bobby if he saw her."
SPN
It was getting dark now and colder and Sam could only think about his baby sister sitting somewhere alone. She must be tired, cold and hungry. What he wouldn't do to just have her in his warm embrace where she was safe. Knowing about the supernatural made him realize that there was no place on earth where you could hide from the monsters. They were literally everywhere … and his sister could be everywhere.
The loud barking of Rumsfeld snapped him back to reality. Sam ran as fast as he could, following the sound of the dog. Sam skidded to a stop at the red pickup he was working on. He didn't understand why Rumsfeld lead him here, they've searched this area more than enough times.
"What is it, buddy?"
The dog leaned his front legs on the back of the pickup as he kept barking. Sam frowned and moved to the back of the car. There was nothing in the open trunk, just a big grey tarp.
"There's nothing in here, Rumsfeld." Sam leaned away from the trunk causing the dog to bark louder. Sam decided to humor the dog and moved the tarp away. The trunk only contained some used Jerry cans, rusty tools and –
Sam's breath caught in his throat when he looked at the peaceful, sleeping small girl laying in a ball on some old rug. She had the earphones of his iPod in her ears as music played loudly. Her messy hair was all over her face, one of her sneakers fell of and Sam could see the goose bumps all over her skin.
Sam felt like someone cleared his head from all the worrying thoughts, the weight on his shoulders fell off and he could suddenly breathe again. He quickly grabbed his phone and called Dean and Bobby.
Sam pushed the dog aside and jumped into the trunk. How could he be so stupid! She was right there all along, she never went away, she just probably got so tired and climbed into trunk. To think he was working on the same pickup and he still didn't catch her getting in the car.
Emmy moaned as Sam lifted her up in his arms. "Oh, Emmy," he whispered as he planted kisses on her head. He jumped out of the car and sat on the trunk, hugging her close against his body, relief flooding through him.
Rumsfeld started licking her fingers in excitement, causing her to stir.
"S'mmy?" she croaked.
"Yeah, honey," Sam answered as he cradled her like a baby so he could see her better. He ran his fingers through her soft hair, trying to smooth it down.
"You done yet?" she slurred, her eyes still closed.
Sam couldn't help but laugh, slightly shaking his head. He settled his hand on her cheek, running his thumb over her eyebrow. "Don't ever do that to me again, Emmy."
"Do wha'?" she mumbled.
"Run off. You got me worried sick. I thought you ran away and got lost. Or that someone took you from us," Sam trailed off. "Don't ever leave us like that ever again, honey. It's not safe out there, you have no idea how much danger is surrounding us. I don't want you to ever get hurt. You need to stay close to Dean and I. We can protect you, keep you safe from those things. We don't want to lose you, too. I don't think I could handle losing someone else I love, not again …" Sam sniffled trying to keep the tears at bay. He never realized how much his sister's disappearance really affected him until now.
Sam pushed the dog away as it nudged his muzzle against his sister's arm, trying to get her attention. But Emmy was dead to the world, she was far away in dreamland. Sam wondered if she even heard what he had said.
"Let her sleep, Rumsfeld. You can play with her tomorrow," Sam said as he took his sister sweater, trying to put it on without waking her up. Just as he was done dressing her, the familiar rumble of the Impala sounded through the yard.
Dean practically ran over to his siblings. His heart took a leap at seeing his baby sister safe in his brother's arm. She was okay, he thought as he mentally checked her for injuries or anything that should alarm him. But he was relieved knowing she was okay. She was okay. She's okay. He had to keep repeating the words in his head to reassure himself that she actually was okay.
"I don't know if I should kiss her or kill her," Dean said as he took her from his brother's arm. He hugged her sleeping body tightly against his, needing the physical reassurance that, again, she was okay, especially in his arms. He didn't trust anyone to keep her safe, only himself. It wasn't like he didn't believe his family could keep her safe but being there for her since their mother died, Dean had built up this bond with his baby sister. A bond that connected himself to her and he felt like he was the only in the world who could take care of her. His family can take care of Emmy too, but no one could do it better than him.
"I oughta take all your toys away for giving us a frikkin' scare like that," Dean muttered as he peppered her face with kisses.
"Hmm, go away," Emmy mumbled, trying to push her brother's face away. He was interrupting her dreams of unicorns swimming in a sea of cotton candy, a sweet dream that held no signs of the emotional rollercoaster she just pulled her brothers through.
"You wish," Dean snorted. "How did you find her?" he asked his brother.
"Rumsfeld found her in the trunk. She was sleeping under the tarp with the earphones in her ears. That's why she probably didn't hear us," Sam explained, tucking his hand in his pocket, using the other to scratch behind the dog's ears. "Guess, he does come in handy."
Dean eyed the dog. He had to admit, the dog's obsession with his baby sister kinda saved him from having a heart attack. "Hmpf, I still don't like you," Dean told the Rottweiler who barked in response.
Emmy stirred from the sound, she didn't bother lifting her head up from her brother's shoulder or open her eyes for that matter. "Hey, Rummy," she said drowsily causing the Rottweiler to bark again. "Off course you can," she giggled sleepily.
Sam shared a look with Dean. "What?" Sam asked her.
"He asked if he can sleep with me tonight," she said as she yawned.
"You speak dog now?" Dean chuckled as he carried her to the car with Sam walking next to him.
"No, you silly. He speaks like us in his head. I can read his mind."
"Wow, how tired are you?" Sam snickered. She always said the weirdest thing when she was half asleep. It's like her brains didn't function enough to make actual sense.
"I wonder if there are dinosaurs in heaven."
"Oh, she is worn out," Dean chuckled.
A/N: You guys, I had so much fun writing this! It's so much more realxing than Be(lie)ve. I hope I didn't make too many grammar errors. Please review and let me know your thoughts. If you have an idea or request for the coming chapters, please let me know :)
Thanks for reading!