Sorry to whatever loyal fans I have left. I really did not have any time to update anything, with work and school. So I offer you Sammy's soul as an apology. Wait, I can't since I don't own the show? Copy right infringements? Blasts!

Oh well. Hope everyone, new and old, enjoys the story.

Sam glared at his brother and father, his little arms folded across his chest. He did his best to imitate the look his daddy gave to big people who were being bad. The scowl deepened when Dean laughed at his attempt at the Winchester glare.

"I don't wanna stay in the icky room," Sam huffed. He did not want to be left alone while Dean got to go with their father to work, while Sam never got to. The two would go off for hours to do "Big Boy Stuff", as Dean called it. Though Daddy would often go off for hours, Dean had always stayed with the youngest of the family. It had made the time stuck in whatever apartment or hotel room they were in. And now Sam was being left alone in the hotel room without his big brother to play with.

John scowled at his baby, the look identical to the one on his youngest boy's face. How much John missed the days when the only argument he had with Sam was about the need for food or a new diaper, "Sammy, behave."

The only reply was stubborn green eyes trying to stare him down. If he had not been so annoyed by this behavior John would have laughed. The boy was going to be too much like John, with the same obstinate attitude that had gained the eldest Winchester more than a few punches. And most of those licks had been from friends.

Dean, always the peacemaker, jumped in, "Come on Sammy, it's only a couple of hours. Then we'll be right back."

The mulish look changed when the five year old looked at his brother. Instead, a look of hero worship came over the little face as he looked up at Dean, "But Dean, I'll be bored."

Dean looked thoughtful, "You've got toys to play with, and the t.v. . ." the boy smiled as an idea struck him. Moving toward the bags, Dean dug out a rather large book. John and Sam leaned forward to see what he had. Smirking, the boy placed the book into his brother's hands, "You try and read this. Your teacher said you're a good reader, so see how much you can."

John saw the front of the book, noticing the school name of an elementary a few states over imprinted on the corner of the cover. The title did not bode well with the father, "Dean, you can't let him read that."

"Why not, it's mostly easy." The eldest of the Winchester sons stated with a blank expression.

John saw through the look. The boy was going to cause trouble with this little action, "'Encyclopedia of Monsters' Dean? Why would you let your brother read this crap?"

The nine year old shrugged, "It'll keep him busy. See?"

Waving his hand toward the younger boy, John saw that Sammy had already opened the book. The boy's brow crinkled as his mouth moved silently as he attempted to sound out a new word.

With a heavy sigh, the man let the issue slide. If it kept Sammy quite he would let him read the damn book. Most of it was made up anyways; the creatures inside would be fabricated to fascinate a child, unlike many of the tomes he read on the same subject.

"Sammy, if you get hungry there's some peanut butter sandwiches in the fridge. Get a juice box, not the milk."

He waited until Sam nodded, showing he had heard the order before grabbing his bag. A quick check of the salt lines was finished before John moved toward the door. John nudged Dean toward the door, "Let's go Dude."

The younger boy continued to read the book intensely as John finally closed the apartment door. Taking his time, John made sure that each bolt was securely turned. He stood at the door for a moment, unwilling to walk away. It was the first time that Sam would be completely on his own. It was tempting to change his mind about this being Dean's first hunt. To leave him here to protect Sammy. But he could not do that; Dean needed to start getting into hunting while there was a relatively safe target. It would be safer than having him run into something nasty without any experience.

Burying the guilt, John looked at Dean, "Ready?"

The boy squared his shoulders and looked up at his father like a good soldier, "Yes sir."

It was an hour before Sammy drew his face out of the book. It was neat to the little boy; pictures of exotic creatures looking up at him, some wonderful while others were scary. And he did understand a lot of what the little passages said, with a few exceptions. A lot of the names were hard as well as weird words like "Boolivea" or "Yoogahslavea" but Sam had kept on reading.

Climbing to his feet, Sammy trudged to the kitchen. He did as his father had said, reaching for the juice box instead of trying to pour a glace of milk.

I wonder if daddy would let me have a mermaid, the boy thought as he chewed on the sandwich.

Sammy stopped chewing. He could have sworn that he had heard something inside the small kitchenette. There, Sammy heard something again. To the child, it sounded like little feet scraping against the floor.

Setting the sandwich down, Sammy looked around for the thing that had made the sound. A frown grew with each minute that passed without finding the mysterious noise maker.

"Maybe it's a monster," Sammy muttered as he moved to the abandoned book. He sat on the floor, drawing the book into his lap.

One of the pictures drew his eye as he flipped through the pages. Tiny men stood on a bench surrounding a shoe the size of a car. An elf, Sammy read, will sneak around without being seen. Some make trouble by taking things. Others will help people who leave little cloths or food for them.

Daddy said the book was stupid, Sammy thought with a smirk. I can show him.

Climbing to his feet, Sam returned to his search.

John pulled into the parking lot as the Impala rumbled with the same fatigue its owner felt. John grimaced as the slight movement of his arm caused his clothing to squish against the upholstery. Both father and son were drenched with so much grime that it looked as if they were actually grey from head to toe. Not an inch of clear skin was left visible under the gunk.

Dean looked satisfied with himself despite the muck covering him. In fact, the boy was sitting in the passenger seat like it was a heroes chariot. The boy was wearing his layer of filth like a badge of honor.

"You did good, Dean," John offered.

A bright smile crossed his face at those four words. Instead of pushing for more praise, the boy looked at the crumpling walls of their current place, "Sammy'll be happy to see us. . . Dibs on the shower!"

John did not have time to blink before his son was out of the car. Shaking his head, he followed his son at a slower pace, "You do realize you can't get in without my keys, Deano?"

Dean smirked as he pulled the needed keys from his pocket. John snickered at the sight, "Imp," he threw out as he reached the boy. With one hand, John took the keys from his son while he used his other to give a light noogie to the boy's short cropped hair.

The light banter stopped as soon as the door opened.

The two were met by chaos inside of their room. Most of the cushions from the chairs were flung about, tables were overturned and the small kitchen space was littered with pans and food from cabinets that hung open. A pistol was in the eldest Winchester's hand before he had recovered from the shock. He sensed rather than saw Dean fall into a defensive stance, knowing that the boy would have his knife in hand.

"Sammy?" the two hunters moved slowly into the room, watching for whatever had torn the room apart.

The sound of movement drew the two toward the joining room that held the beds. They moved silently toward the door, weapons ready. John threw the door open in an attempt to surprise the thing inside.

But there was no supernatural beast, nor was there some seedy human being inside the small space. Instead, there was a very disheveled Sammy sitting on one of the small waste baskets that sat beside each bed.

The boy beamed up at his father, "Daddy! Dean! Your back!"

"Hey buddy," John pushed the gun into the waist band of his jeans, "What's going on?"

Sammy bounced on the basket, waving his arms excitedly, "I caught an elf!"

He looked up at his father with pride while his father stared down in confusion, "An elf?"

Sam nodded his head happily. While John tried to remember if he had read anything about elves in his research, Dean smiled at Sam, "Way to go Sammy!" Dean cheered, "Can I see it?"

Sammy took a moment to think it over before nodding, "Ok Dean, but watch out. Elfs are very tricky."

Once the younger boy was off, Dean knelt beside the basket. John watched his son tilt the rim up, waiting for something to happen.

Dean pushed it back down as fast as he could. Shock crossed his face, "Oh man."

"What is it?"

Dean looked up and laughed, "He caught a mouse."

Yeah, that was not that great. But I wanted to get something out. I just need to think up some more cute things to do.

There really is a children's book called the Encyclopedia of Monsters. It was in my elementary school's library, which I checked out a few times. Simple and fun, but I did wonder about younger kids reading it.