I think I got all the spelling errors... If not, I own them, nothing else. Except a couple demons, but who really wants those?

Chapter 7. Fortitude

Sam was scared, more so than he'd ever been before. Unlike the strange man in the tan coat, the dark haired woman had not been nice, not at all, and she had messed everything up. Now his big brother and Uncle Bobby were scared too, for him. Somehow he felt as if it was all his fault…

"Dean?" he mumbled into his brother's shoulder as he was carried down a flight of stairs into the basement. "Dean, I's scared."

Dean hated that he was hearing those words so often the last few days. "It's gonna be all right, Sammy. I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you."

Ahead of him, Bobby pulled open the heavy iron door of the panic room he'd built for such situations. "Well, get in!" He ushered them inside. "I'll be joinin' ya in a sec, lemme just grab a few things." And with that he disappeared back up the stairs.

Dean lowered Sam to the ground and let him gaze around the small room. "Dean, what're those?" He pointed to the symbols on the wall.

Dean knelt down beside him and pulled him into his arms. "Those will keep you safe, Sammy. As long as you're in here, you're safe."

"The monsters can't get me?"

Dean's heart clenched at the strained, frightened sound that was his brother's voice. "No. No monsters can get you, not in here."

Sam nodded, but continued to look around warily.

Heavy footsteps came down the wooden stairs as Bobby ran down them; he entered the panic room with an armful of blankets and pillows. "Here." Dean let go of Sam to take them. "These should be enough." When he'd set up the room, he'd only expected maybe one or two people to use it, not a little kid as well.

"Where's Cubby?" Sam asked suddenly. "I wants Cubby!"

"Cubby?" Bobby looked dubious. "What's cubby?"

Dean thought about that too, then it came to him. "His dog! The one I bought for him; it's still up in his room!" Dammit, Sam…

"On it." Bobby didn't seem to care that it was a toy and went back up the stairs.

Dean laid the blankets off to one side and began to set in a makeshift bed, bundling some blankets so Sam wouldn't be sleeping on the cold, hard floor.

"Unca Bobby savin' Cubby from the monsters?"

"Yeah," Dean said. "Uncle Bobby's saving Cubby."

Bobby returned soon after, stuffed dog in one hand and a bundle of items wrapped in canvas in the other. "Here, kiddo," he handed the dog to Sam, who took it happily. "Safe and sound." He turned around and set the bundle on the floor, unrolling it. An assortment of guns and knives were revealed. "There's more in that corner there," he said to Dean, pointing, "along with bags of rock salt and a couple gallons of holy water." He straightened up. "If there really are demons comin,' they're goin' to get one helluva fight."

Dean cocked his .45. "Damn right."

.x.x.x.

They were coming.

Up through the ventilation shaft above them, storm clouds were gathering, unnatural bolts of lightning streaking across the blackened skies. With it, the air temperature was dropping rapidly, sending chills through the room.

Sam, the day's events finally catching up with him, lay curled up on the makeshift bed. His sleep was far from pleasant, though, as the cold seeped into his bones and he shivered. Breaking from his post by the door with Bobby, Dean went over and pulled the extra blankets over Sam's small shoulders. Then, for some reason, he knelt down and planted a small kiss on top of Sam's mussed hair. There was a contented sigh from the small boy who snuggled against the stuffed dog in his grasp and began sucking on his thumb.

Dean stole on last ruffle of Sam's hair and returned to Bobby's side.

"Sleeping, huh?" the older man asked. "Poor kid."

Dean nodded and looked out the open door down the walkway. Dust drifted down from the ceiling as the house above shook on its foundation. "How long do you think the salt lines upstairs will hold?"

"If they're really desperate, not long," Bobby replied. "And from the sounds of it, they want to tear this place down."

"Shit," Dean cursed loudly. "As if we didn't have enough problems." He glanced back at his little brother. "This…this is all my fault."

"Dean—"

"No, Bobby, it is," Dean interrupted. "If I hadn't prayed to God for-" he waved at Sam, "this, we wouldn't have this problem."

"You didn't know."

"Well, you always did say 'careful what you wish for' when we were kids."

"True," Bobby admitted. "But there ain't nothing wrong with wanting your little brother back, Dean, even if the wish didn't turn out the way ya wanted." He smiled as he looked over at Sam. "'sides, it was nice seeing you two as a family again."

"Yeah…" Too bad nothing lasts.

There was a loud shattering of glass upstairs and the two men had their weapons up and ready in a second flat, aiming towards the staircase.

"Ya ready for this, Dean?" Bobby asked gruffly.

Dean growled, not shifting his gaze. "Bring it on."

Another crash, closer this time, and the house shuddered again. Bobby grumbled something about them paying for destroying his home. He was silenced as a gust of wind shot down the stairs and into the panic room, whipping their clothes with the force. Sam awoke with a start.

"Deeeeaaaaaannn, wha's goin' on?"

"Just stay where you are, Sammy," Dean said. "It's going to be okay."

Damn, he seemed to be saying that a lot lately, and nothing really had been okay. And now, as he watched dark torrent of demons flood the stairwell and drown out the light, he knew that things were nowhere near okay.

Sam whimpered, pulling the blankets around him in a tight bundle.

"Awww, is little Sammy scared?" came the soft, sickly-sweet voice as the storm died down. A young woman stepped forth, black eyes twinkling from under her long golden locks. Other possessed people stood behind her. "Come out and let us make it all better for you."

"Not a chance, bitch." Dean aimed his gun at her.

She sneered. "Think that peashooter is going to stop us?"

"No," Dean admitted, "but this will." He aimed up towards the ceiling of the hallway and fired.

The rope that was pinning the bag of salt flat against the ceiling broke, spilling the contents down below. All the demons jumped backwards out of the way, hissing as the salt formed a thick line across their path.

"Try and pass that, you sonsofbitches!" Dean hollered.

The possessed woman snarled. "You think you're so smart, Winchester? Fine. But sooner or later, you'll have to come out." She smiled. "And we'll be waiting."

Dean was about to throw back a witty response, but then acknowledged the truth. They only had enough rations to last them a few weeks, maybe a month. He wasn't sure if the demons would hang around that long, but he wouldn't put it past them. Demons were anything is not patient.

He knew that firsthand.

There was a sharp tug on his sleeve and he glanced down. "Sammy—"

"De, make them go away," Sam trembled. "Make the monsters go away…" He fixed his frightened gaze on the hoard of demons just outside the panic room. "Please, Deanie."

Seeing that Dean was at a loss for words at his little brother's scared request, Bobby laid his weapon aside and pulled the boy into his lap. Sam sniffled and curled his hands into the old hunter's clothes.

"Shhh," Bobby murmured, cradling Sam in his arms. While he'd never had kids, he'd always thought of the two Winchester boys as his own, especially after John's passing. The fatherly instinct came easy to him now as he held the six-year old tight in his arms, rocking him to sleep. Sam snuggled into that warmth and soon drifted away.

Bobby kept swaying him gently in his arms, glancing out the door. Dozens of liquid black eyes stared back, filled with hate and hunger.

The demons were sickened by the show of affection.

"Soon," came a raspy hiss.

"Ours," said another. "All ours."

"No," Dean said flatly. "Ours." The mumblings of the demons were nerve-wracking. Maybe he could exorcise them? Naw, they'd get away before that…He could shoot them, but that wouldn't have much effect either. It wasn't like he still had the Colt lying around close by.

There was a rustle among the demons, hushed whispers in a tongue that neither Dean nor Bobby could discern.

One, a Caucasian male in a black suit, turned their way. Then with a sneer and sounding very Arnold Schwarzenegger-like, he said, "We'll be back." And slowly, gradually, they went up the stairs and disappeared, leaving the house silent once more.

The panic room brightened suddenly and Dean looked up, seeing the sun peeking through the demonic clouds. He blinked. "No way our luck's that good…" he muttered.

Bobby looked grim. "Probably a trick. How stupid do they think we are?" He glanced down at the snoozing Sam in his arms. "We'll wait a couple hours, then see. But Sam stays in here until this is settled, ya hear?"

Dean gave a nod. He wasn't going to have it any other way. And he was willing to bet that the demons would stay true to their word and return. He studied his baby brother's sleeping face. It was scrunched up slightly, indication that his dreams were troubled, probably filled with 'monsters.'

Don't worry, Sammy, he thought. I won't let them get you. You're my pain-in-the-ass little brother and it's my job to protect you. Always has been, always will, not matter what age you are.

Another part of him though silently hoped that he could keep that promise.

Eh, kinda boring I guess, just a filler chapter really. The next one should be more exciting, with a few more twists... ;)

Feedback is love!