Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I am simply borrowing.

I know I took a long time to post, but in my defense my computer was acting up. You might want to re-read the last two chapters to get a feel for where we are in the story. Here's a longer chapter to make up for your wait :)

Big thanks to my reviewers emelie0204, Tya, Souless666 and Bella4evr3. I appreciate all types of feedback.

emelie0204: Sorry to keep you waiting! I know it's been forever since I've posted, but I was caught up in the real world with my responsibilities. My bad ~

Tya: I didn't mean for it to sound like Dante thought Sam was Lucifer. Dante was pledging his allegiance to Sam, and he said, "...so help me Lucifer" just like someone would say "so help me God." Sorry for the confusion!

Souless666: First off, love the name. Secondly, yeah, I got a bit carried away with my dramatic-ness. I'm a dramatic person (my Beta Alytiger gets onto me about that sometimes), and sometimes I feel the need to add an extra dramatic flair. *big smile*

Bella4evr3: I'm so glad you love the story! Do not worry; I will continue to slowly but surely finish Boy King.

Dean sat behind the wheel of the Impala, his patience wearing thin. Him and Gordon were on their way back to the asylum, but instead of booking it, Dean was sitting outside a gas station as Gordon relieved himself. Dean clenched his hand into a fist. Sam didn't have such a small bladder...

Thinking about Sam did nothing to calm Dean down. Talking to the blonde bitch, Ruby, was both good and bad. Good: Ruby said Sam only killed Bela Talbot because she had a mortal wound in her side. Bad: Sam has more evil locked inside of him than anyone could ever imagine, and Dean could imagine some pretty evil shit. Good: Ruby has been sent back to Hell to get tortured. Bad: the more Sam uses his powers, the more evil he becomes. Good: Ruby can't help with the 'game plan.' Bad: The demons have a 'game plan' that involves Sam.

Dean took a deep breath to calm himself when Gordon finally, finally, came out of the gas station. As soon as the passenger side door closed, Dean sped off, eager to get to his brother.

Sammy, you're in a world of trouble, man. I'll be there as fast as I can, but stop using those damned powers!

"Did you really think you could kill me?" Sam held the demon in question against the wall. Getting nothing but a glare, Sam continued, "I don't understand why you would try to kill me alone. There have to be other demons besides yourself that hate me. Why not have a group attack me?"

The demon laughed. "Do you really think I'll tell you anything?"

Sam shrugged. "Not really. I'm just curious. Trying to kill me by appearing behind me wasn't smart. I can feel your demonic presence before you teleport in here."

Sam lowered the demon to the ground.

The demon looked shocked. "Why aren't you killing me? I'll just try to kill you again! I'll start an uprising against you!"

Sam put his hands in his jean pockets. "If you wanted to start an uprising against me, you would've already. If you have a better way of killing me, you would've done it the first time. I'm letting you go because you had no plans of actually killing me. You wanted to see how powerful I am, and if I died, that'd be a bonus."

The demon turned and fled down the hallway.

Sam sighed. He really didn't want to rule by fear, but if more demons tried to kill him, he'd have to start exorcising demons or threatening torture.

A loud noise pierced through the silent hallway. Sam pulled out his phone, checked the caller ID, and answered.

"Casey? Hi... No... It wasn't... Yes I let him go... Let me... Fine. I'll meet you at the practice field."

Sam shoved his phone back into his pocket and teleported to the practice field. Casey was waiting there for him.

"Sam." Casey's arms were crossed.

Sam smiled awkwardly. "Hi, Casey."

"Why did you let your murderer go?"

"For him to be my murderer, I'd have to be dead. Besides, nothing bad happened."

Casey looked less angry and more concerned. "Sam, if someone tried to kill the president, they would be tried for treason and die. You can't let something as big as this go."

Sam willed Casey to understand. "I don't want to rule by fear; I want to rule by respect. I can't run an army if I don't have soldiers. Please, just let me do this my way."

Casey sighed. "You're the boss." Casey worried her bottom lip. "Oh, uh, I kept a look out for cases like you asked. I found one." Casey handed Sam a newspaper clipping.

"A psychotic killer that rips victims apart with brute-like ferocity." Sam scanned the rest of the clipping. "No mention of razor-sharp teeth or claws, but it falls around the right time of the lunar cycle; I'm thinking werewolf."

Silence spread between the two as Sam contemplated the hunt.

"If it is a werewolf, I'll have to be fast. The full moon is in two days, and that'll be when it last changes." Sam folded the newspaper clipping and stuffed it in his pocket.

Casey shuffled her feet. "Um, Sam? You won't be bringing backup?"

Sam narrowed his eyes. "I tried working with a demon before. It didn't turn out well."

Casey dared to take a step closer. "I'm not like Ruby! I want to do what's in your best interest, and you getting killed is not in your best interest."

"You think I can't handle a single werewolf?!" Sam glowered.

Casey stood up to her full height, annoyed. "You're going to find a werewolf in two days and kill it? And what if it turns out it isn't a werewolf at all? You only suspect the damn thing is a werewolf. Do you really want to risk innocent lives?"

Sam's expression didn't change. "Risk innocent lives? My entire existence risked innocent lives! If I wasn't born, my mom wouldn't have died, my dad wouldn't have died, Dean would still have both his parents..."

Sam turned away. Dean. He risked everything for Sam, and for what? For Sam to throw it all back in his face and work with - no, rule over - a bunch of demons?

Casey spoke softly. "Sam, if you weren't born, the world would be in shambles. Yes, there were casualties, but what would've happened to the world if you weren't born? How many people have you and your family saved over the years? What would the world look like if you weren't the last man standing from all of Azazel's pupils? Jake would be leading the army to take over humanity right this second. You, Sam, have done far more good than you have bad. All I want to do is help you along the way. One bad beer doesn't mean they're all bad, does it?"

Sam turned back around to see Casey smiling. "Really? A beer joke?"
"Well I was a bartender for quite some time before you showed up."

Sam shook his head, smiling. "Let's go."

"I'm Detective Plant, this is Detective Paige. We're from the County Sherriff's Department." Sam flashed his badge.

The man sitting on the hospital bed sat up a little higher. "Yeah, I've, uh, been expecting you."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You have?"

The man nodded. "All morning. You are the sketch artist, right?"

Casey nodded. "Absolutely. Before I sketch your attacker, would you mind telling us how you got away?"

The man looked at the bedsheets. "I have no idea. I was hiding, and he found me. He was coming right for me, and then he just... stopped. He stared at me with this blank look, and after that he took off running."

Casey pulled out a pen and a small notebook. "Thank you. I'm going to need as much physical detail as possible."

The man itched absently at the slashes above his left eyebrow. "Uh, he's about six feet tall, dark hair..."

"What about his eyes? What color eyes did he have?" Sam asked.

"Maybe... blue? It was dark."

Sam tried again. "Did they seem, um, animal-ish?"

"Excuse me?"

Casey jumped in. "What about his teeth? Notice anything out of the ordinary? Something that could distinguish him from someone else?"

The man wrinkled his brow in confusion. "No, they were just teeth."

"What about his fingernails?" Sam tried again.

"Okay, look. He's just a normal guy, with normal eyes and teeth and fingernails."

Casey put a consoling hand on the man's arm. "It's okay, just-"

"No! It's... Those were my brothers, and I... He killed my brothers. How would you feel?" The man's voice was thick with emotion.

Sam lowered his eyes. "I can't imagine anything worse." He looked at the man in the hospital bed. "I know this isn't easy, but if you can think of any more details, it would really help us catch your brothers' killer."

The man nodded. "There was one more thing: the man had a, ah, a tattoo on his arm of a cartoon character. It was, ugh, what was it? Oh, it was of the Wile E. Cyote."

"Kyle?" A doctor walked in the room.

"Dr. Garrison." The man, Kyle, looked back Sam and Casey. "That was it."

Sam pulled out his badge. "Are you Kyle's doctor? I'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Of course." Dr. Garrison led Sam outside into the hallway.

"So what can you tell me about Kyle's brothers?"

Dr. Garrison shrugged his shoulders. "Not much to say. They were found dead at the scene. I could show you the coroner's report, if that would help."

Sam nodded. "That'd be great."

Sam and Casey walked along the sidewalk back to the motel they were currently staying at.

"The brother's hearts were still in their chests, but bits of their kidneys, lungs, and intestines were missing. You were right; this is not a werewolf." Sam shook his head. What could it be?

Casey looked at Sam. "We know it's not a demon because you would've felt the demonic energies, so maybe it was... I got nothing."

"Me neither."

"Back at the hospital again. Is this what you do all the time?" Casey asked.

Sam quickly turned Casey to read the pamphlets at the counter as the local police walked past.

"No, sometimes we exorcise demons." Sam smiled as Casey punched him in the arm.

"Let's go see the victim."

As Sam and Casey walk into the victim's room, they see Dr. Garrison trying to calm her down.

"They drugs may still be in your system. We need to keep you here." He consoled.

The girl pushed at Dr. Garrison with tears in her eyes. "I have arrangements to make, please let me go."

"They can wait. Now, you need to rest." Dr. Garrison helped the girl lie back down. "Stay. I'll be back in a few minutes.

The doctor walked over to Sam and Casey. "Detectives."

"Dr. Garrison, what happened?" Sam asked.

Dr. Garrison looked between Sam and Casey. "That's the big question. The whole town is going insane. My most recent patient was lost in the woods with her boyfriend when an old woman let them into her home, drugged them, and killed her boyfriend. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

The doctor walked past them.

Sam and Casey entered the room. "Ms. Watson? We'd just like to ask you a few questions."

The girl shrunk into her hospital bed. "Do we have to do this again? Now?"

Sam nodded. "We'll try to make this brief. Miss Watson, can you tell us how you got away?"

Ms. Watson nodded. "I didn't eat as much pie as Ken did, so there wasn't as much of the drugs in my system. When the old woman was... carving Ken, I shoved her. She fell and cracked her head on the stove." Ms. Watson sobbed. "She's dead, right? I killed her?"

Casey nodded. "She'll never bother you again. Is there anything else you can remember?"

Ms. Watson nodded. "Yeah, did y'all find a little girl there? I thought I saw her outside the window. She just disappeared, vanished, into thin air. It must've been the drugs."

"This girl, what did she look like? Every detail matters." Sam asked.

Ms. Watson thought for a moment. "She had this dark, dark hair, and really pale skin. She looked around eight. She was a beautiful child; it was odd seeing her in the middle of something so horrible."

"The EMF is going nuts." Sam told Casey, scanning the window. They were at the house where Ms. Watson and her boyfriend were attacked by the old woman. "It's only at the window, though. This must be where Ms. Watson saw the girl. She's got to be a spirit."

Casey raised her eyebrows. "So this spirit just stood outside, watching the crime take place? Why?"

Sam put the EMF reader back in his jacket pocket. "Actually, I do have a theory. Sort of."

"What's your theory?" Casey asked.

"Well," Sam began, "I'm thinkin' about fairy tales. A guy and a girl, hiking through the woods and an old lady tries to eat them? That's Hansel and Gretel. And then there are the three brothers arguing over how to build houses when they are attacked by the big bad wolf. It's a classic Three Little Pigs. You see," Sam was really getting into his explanation now, "the original stories written by the Grimm Brothers are like the folklore of its day, full of sex, violence, cannibalism, and that got sanitized over the years and turned into Disney flicks and bedtime stories."

Casey smiled slightly, and then let out a small laugh. "So, what? These murders are a reenactment of children's stories? Doesn't that sound crazy to you?"

Sam shrugged. "Isn't crazy every day of my life?"

Casey laughed. "Touche. But how is this ghost girl involved?"

"Um, I'm not sure, but she must've been here for a reason, and I'm willing to bet she was at the construction site, too." Sam broke into a smile. "Guess it's time for some research."

Casey met Sam outside the local library six hours later. She did not look happy.

"What did you find out?" Sam asked.

"I looked through the town records, and it seems to have the usual amount of violent deaths of little girls for a town this size, and when I looked to see who had pale skin and dark hair, none of the girls matched the description." Casey rubbed a hand through her hair. "Not even any little girls have gone missing with pale skin and dark hair. What about you, boss?"

"Lilian Bailey was a British medium from the 1930's. She would go into these unconscious states, these trances, where, um, her thoughts and actions were completely controlled by spirits."

Casey looked up at Sam, skeptical. "You think some kid is making these people act out the fairytales like puppets?"

"More like... spirit hypnosis."

Sam and Casey stop as a loud croaking reaches their ears. Looking down, they see a bull frog sitting on the sidewalk in front of them.

Casey wiggled her eyebrows. "Should I kiss 'im?"

Sam shook his head. "Don't do anything that could place you in a fairytale; they don't end well."

Dean was done trying to be patient. If he had to sit outside the asylum for one more minute...

"Dean, calm down." Gordon's voice grated on Dean's every nerve.

Dean turned as much as he could in the underbrush so he could glare at Gordon. "Calm down? You've been telling me to calm the fuck down for the past twenty minutes, and do you know what calm has gotten me? Huh? Nothing! I've seen maybe one shadow and zero sightings of Sam!"

Gordon took a deep breath. "Dean, do you have any patience?"

Dean's eyes narrowed into slits. "I have patience through the fucking roof, Walker, but if you couldn't tell, we're outside. I'll be freakin' calm when I know my little brother isn't out there using his powers and turning evil from the inside out!"

Gordon was about to reply when a noise sounded from inside the asylum. Eyes scanning over the windows, ears straining to hear, the hunters watched silently from the bushes.

"I like the change in command, man."

"Really?"

"Sure. He's the chosen one, ya know."

A snort. "Oooh, the chosen one. He was chosen by Azazel, yet you saw what happened to him. Chosen don't mean crap."

Two men stopped by the second story window.

"Hey, at least he's never around. He's always out training or saving some poor town or whatever the crap he does." The demon took a drag from a cigarette.

The other demon shook his head. "It doesn't matter if he's not here; he's a human. And like you said, he goes about saving people. Next thing you'll know, he'll order all of Hell to help people instead of coerce them."

The demons started walking again, their voices lost in the confines of the asylum.

Dean couldn't move. New leader. Chosen one. Azazel. Saving people. Human. There was only one person the demons could be talking about.

Sammy.

"Still think that brother of yours is a white knight?" Gordon knew who the demons were talking about, too, and it was not helping Dean's case at all.