Dean pulled up before the library, throwing the Impala into park before walking out, the door creaking behind him. Sam followed suit, his door mimicking the same creak that Dean's had let out. Both looked around as they headed in, not a person in sight. The library was equally empty, each sound thrown around the vast space, putting Sam and Dean on edge.

Sam led Dean to the computers, sitting in the same one that he had used previously. The computer hummed to life, the light igniting the corner of the room. Dean pulled up a chair and sat down beside Sam, leaning forward so he could see the screen clearly.

Sam began his search again, starting with any stories he could find about Zwarte Piet, anything that would tell them how to kill one. There was nothing, absolutely nothing. It seemed that no one had ever had the need to kill on before, or had ever tried.

He was scrolling through a page when Dean suddenly said, "Stop. Go back."

Sam scrolled back up the screen, going until Dean said, "There."

Sam paused; looking at the paragraph that Dean had noticed.

Although the legend of Sinterklaas and Zwarte Piet is largely based off of the Christian religion, many belief that the real origins lie in generations before, trailing back to Norse legends of gods among men.

Stories have been told that state the Sinterklaas was based off of the Norse god Odin, connections drawn between the parallels of each man. Sinterklaas rides on a horse whose name varies from tale to tale, Odin rides on the back of his gray horse Sleipnir. Both of the men carry a staff though they are visually different. They are also seen with helpers, Odin with his black crows and Sinterklaas with his black helpers, both of which bring him news of the world.

There are a few people who believe that Sinterklaas is in fact the modern version of Odin, the Christianized version of a god that they once worshipped.

"Well," Dean sat back a bit, finished reading the section, "Looks like we're trying to kill a god."

"Not a god," Sam pointed at the screen, "Just a gods henchman."

Dean leaned back in his chair, "Like that's going to make it any easier."

Sam hummed his agreement, focusing back to the computer, now trying to find ways to kill a Norse god. Sam reasoned that if it would kill a god, it would kill his helper. It made sense, didn't it?

Finding a way to kill a god was harder than Sam could have imagined. All he was able to find was the fact that Odin would live forever, the worlds ending the moment that he died, eaten by a great wolf. He was about to give up when he saw a small website at the bottom of the Google search page, one that you would never click on, one that looked like everything written on it would be made up by someone who still lived in their mothers basement surviving off of protein packs and energy drinks. But Sam was willing to try anything.

The site was clearly made by someone who had no idea what they were doing, the page a simple white with black type and nothing else. Sam scrolled through, skimming the page to see if there would be anything of value.

He froze on the one paragraph, his eyes running over the words, widening as they took it in.

People say that there is only one way to kill Odin, but that's not true. Sure he's going to be eaten at the end of time by the big old wolf dude, but there's another way to kill that old bastard. I know a way, and no I am not telling you how I know, that's a secret asshat.

So what you do is this: take a spear, doesn't matter what kind, Roman, Norse, Viking, who cares. All it needs is an iron tip and a wooden handle, preferably made out of oak, but again, not necessary. Then you douse that mother in wine, red and aged more than thirty years, the older the better. It doesn't matter what kind of wine either, just has to be red. Don't ask me why, I don't know.

Next you've got to take that sucker and stick it in his heart. You don't hit it and you've got an extremely pissed off god on your hands and probably no head, he gets mad like that.

So after you've got that spear in his heart you've got to hang him. Yeah, hang him, like noose around his neck and hanging from the rafters. If you don't do this the big guy WILL NOT STAY DEAD. Once again I don't know why so don't ask. The guy is magical so he's a stubborn SOB and won't die easily.

SO remember: spear, wine, heart, and hang. Simple as that. Now go get him tiger, I'll be watching from the sidelines. Cowering.

"Dean!" Sam turned to look at his brother, who was currently leaning back in his chair, eyes closed, his chest moving up and down with shallow breaths. Sam shook his head and nudged the leg of Dean's chair, which was conveniently in the air making it very easy for him to tip Dean's chair backwards.

The look on Dean's face as his chair started falling back was priceless, his expression was pure shock, his arms failing, trying to find either balance or something to grab onto. He hit the ground, letting out an oomph as he landed. Sam couldn't hold his laugh back, snorting before it became full out hysteria. Dean shot him a death glare, one that could melt steel with the heat. Sam just kept on laughing, wiping a tear from his eye.

Dean righted his chair, grumbling as he said, "Bitch."

Sam chuckled, "Jerk."

Dean was still mad as he sat down in his chair, getting right back to what Sam had so rudely interrupted his catnap for, "What'd you find?"

Sam stared shutting the computer down as he said, "I know how to kill Odin, so it should work for Zwarte Piet too. He is a lesser god after all."

"Alright then, let's go." Dean got up from his chair, watching as Sam finished turning the monitor off.

They both moved to leave the library before Dean stopped, making Sam stutter to a halt behind him as not to collide with the wall of flesh that was before him. He turned and faced Sam, his face serious, "Okay, I just want to say this. It's not that I don't believe you or anything, but what if it is just a normal human who is fucking with these people's heads?"

"What are you saying Dean?" Sam tried to remain calming, telling himself that Dean was just being Dean. An annoying bastard.

"I just don't want to go running in trying to kill this thing with whatever madness you think might work. I just want to try killing it in a normal human fashion first."

"With what Dean? It's not like I have a gun in my back pocket and I'm pretty sure that you don't either." The sheepish look that Dean had on his face made Sam re-think his words, "Oh you have got to be kidding me."

"Well, not in my back pocket…"

"Dean!" Dean looked at his brother; the look of shock on his face was enough to make Dean laugh had he been in a different situation.

"I have to have one Sam! I would have been dead a long time ago if I didn't."

Sam, using one hand, rubbed his eyes, groaning a little bit. "Fine Dean, we'll shot the thing and then go from there. Okay?"

Dean smiled, heading out of the library, "Sounds good to me."

A/N: WHooooO! Full length chapter! Points to me!