Seriously, I'm realising I can't thank you all enough! The interest in this story is incredible!

A Case of Frost

Chapter 6: Of Monsters and Mischief

The rest of Sam's morning was spent, not at all to his surprise, researching. They had returned to their motel after the run-in with the local children. Dean hadn't wanted to risk getting caught in any more snow, even though the skies were still clear. Their motel room was cold, which Sam didn't think was unusual considering the weather.

"I don't get it," said Dean, drinking from a bottle of beer.

Sam looked up from his laptop screen. "What don't you get?"

"Any of it. The more we find out, the less any of this makes sense. I was fine at first, when we got here. All we knew was that it was probably a ghost. Okay, I can deal with that. But then with the feet thing, and the ice thing, and now the kids talking about Jack freakin' Frost? How is any of this not weird?"

"I don't know, man." Sam gestured at the web page he was scrolling through. There was an illustration of an old man, tall and bony, with a pointed silver beard. "This isn't turning up many results, either. The Jack Frost legend is kind of obscure. There's not much here we don't already know about. Supposedly he brings winter, he's affiliated with ice and snow. It says nothing about killing people."

"So it's not the real deal," said Dean with a shrug. He said it like it was obvious, already established. "Just another ghost, or monster, or whatever, parading around as a kids' fairytale."

"Gaining the children's trust before killing their parents," Sam concluded, "Which puts us back at square one."

"Well duh," said Dean, raising the bottle back to his lips, "I mean, you didn't actually believe it was the real Jack Frost, right?"

Sam shook his head, but it was less in the negative and more in uncertainty. "I don't know, I mean-"

He was broken off by Dean's sudden confused shout. When he looked over, he found his brother holding the beer bottle upside down. Not a single drop escaped it.

"You finished your beer," said Sam, confused by the reaction, "Just go buy some more."

"I didn't finish it," Dean shot back, "It's still half full. But look!" He tossed the bottle over to Sam, who caught it one-handed. "Frozen solid."

It was, Sam realised. The bottle felt heavy and cold in his hand, and it was uncomfortable enough that he had to set it down on the bedside table. It was impossibly frozen, in fact. A chill seemed to settle over the room. Sam put a hand on his gun, and Dean was already digging the EMF reader out of the bags. Both brothers were on alert.

"Is this thing working?" Dean asked, smacking the side of it. Silence replied, the meter remaining still.

"Nothing."

"Well," said Sam slowly, "It is a cold day. Maybe it's a coincidence?"

"This ghost had better hope it is," he said, "Messing with a guy's beer like that? Not cool!"

Convinced that there was nothing in the room with them, the brothers allowed themselves to relax. When Sam thought about it, he realised that he was glad for the interruption. If it hadn't come, he would have had to answer Dean's question, and he wasn't sure how to do that. Did he think it could have been the real Jack Frost? Sam didn't know. He'd seen weirder, but the idea still seemed rather absurd.

Sam yawned and clicked his laptop shut. He hadn't realised up to that point how tired he was. He went into the tiny bathroom attached to their room, hoping that a shower would help to wake him. Warm him, too. The bathroom, with the cool white tiles underfoot, was even colder than the bedroom.

"Don't they have heating in this place?" he muttered to himself, starting the water. It was hot and relaxing, and it did wake him a little. Just when he started thinking that he didn't want to get out, back to the cold room and the case with the gory murders, the water went cold. More than cold, actually. Icy.

Sam shouted at the sudden shock. It took him a moment to recover enough to turn the water off and grab a towel, his teeth chattering. "What the..?"

He dressed quickly, welcoming the warmth from his clothes. Back in the main room, Dean watched him with a raised eyebrow. "Did you slip?"

Sam shook his head. "I'm going 'round to reception. They need to do something about the heating."

He didn't make it far, however, when he saw the problem. The small water tank outside their motel room had been iced over. Sam couldn't help it - he was starting to get annoyed. He headed back into the room and snatched up the EMF reader. Still nothing.

"Maybe it's not a ghost?" he suggested.

"Whatever it is," replied Dean, "It's getting on my nerves. Or it could be like you said, a coincidence."

They couldn't rule it out. Sam clenched his fists, wanting to get out of there. "You hungry?" he asked. Dean gave him a pointed look. "C'mon. Let's go grab something to eat."

He didn't have to ask twice. Dean was already on his feet and collecting his keys.

They didn't go to the same diner as the night before. It was too close to the motel, and Sam wanted to clear his head. Instead they found a small take-out place near the centre of town. There was a liquor store around the corner for which Dean made a beeline while Sam ordered food.

They'd had to leave the car a bit down the road because the street was so covered in snow. A few kids had their sleds out and were having races down the street. Sam recognised the Jamie boy and a couple of his friends amongst them.

There wasn't a long time between ordering a couple of burgers and receiving them. Sam was almost back out the door when he noticed something was off about them.

"These are cold," he told the man behind the counter. Sure enough, although they had been freshly cooked, the burgers felt like they had been sitting in the fridge all day.

The manager was most displeased. "Kate!" he shouted at the young girl in the kitchen. She was confused and apologetic about the problem, but the manager wasn't having any of it. "Make yourself useful while I redo these, and go salt the doorstep. Next thing we know we'll be having a customer slipping on the ice and cracking their head open."

Sam waited awkwardly as the girl rushed off to do as she was told and the manager made him two new burgers. He received a free serving of fries for the inconvenience.

As he left the store with hot paper bags of food in his arms, the kitchen girl gave him another small, apologetic smile. Sam felt bad for getting her in trouble, so he smiled back. She had with her a bucket full of snow salt, which she was sprinkling over the icy pavement. An idea hit Sam, sudden and forceful.

He hurried across the snowy street to where Dean was waiting for him with a case of beer.

"It's not a ghost!" he said excitedly.

His brother looked surprised at his outburst. "It's not?"

"No, Dean. Look over there." He pointed to where the girl was throwing handfuls of salt on the ice. "With how icy it is, there has to be salt everywhere. I don't think a ghost could go anywhere near this town at the moment."

Dean looked thoughtful. "That would most likely go for demons, too. So we keep coming back to the same question - if it's not a ghost, what is it?"

"Jack Frost?" suggested Sam, but only half-heartedly.

"Very funny, Sam." Dean scowled as they walked back to where they'd left the car. "We're no closer to finding out what this thing is than we were when we first got here. Which means that we're no closer to finding out how to kill it. There's nothing stopping it from attacking anyone e-"

They stopped in their tracks, and a choked sound escaped Dean. The car, which had been intentionally parked away from the snow filled streets, was buried up to the door handles in slush. The windows were coated in frost, so that it was impossible to see the interior.

"No," moaned Dean, "no, no, no! Not my baby!"

Sam gaped at the sight, but his eyes were pulled away by the sound of laughter. Jamie and his friends were giggling amongst themselves, pointing at the top of the car where snow swirled in the wind.

"Okay," said Sam, "Maybe not a coincidence."

Dean swore. "Too far! First my beer and now this?" He started shouting at the sky. "I don't care if you're Jack Frost or Frosty the Snowman or some other monster! You've crossed a line, you icy son of a-"

His foot came down on a small patch of ice that Sam didn't think had been there a second ago, and he went sprawling face-first into a pile of muddy snow at the side of the road. The case of beer tumbled out of his arms and a few of the bottles smashed.

"Are you okay?" asked Sam, but he was struggling to hold back his laughter. His amusement didn't last long, however, when a kid on a sled came hurtling down the street and right over his foot. Sam yelled in pain, but by some miracle he managed to keep hold of the food.

Dean lifted himself out of the snow and glared at the laughing kids. At least at his look a couple of them had the decency to look ashamed.

"He was just having a bit of fun," said Jamie, "But you'd better start digging."

It took them hours to get the car free, by which time Sam thought his whole body was numb with cold. He was thankful for his heavy jacket, at least. As it was, he'd lost feeling in his fingers long ago. They had a shovel which would have been useful, except that it was in the back of the car. So they freed that part first.

It was late afternoon by the time they'd removed all of the snow, and early evening when the engine warmed up enough to actually start. The car spluttered into life, Dean muttering at it encouragingly, and they managed to get back to the motel, albeit slowly.

It was a relief to get inside. Even the coldness of the motel room was better than the frosty air and snow outside. Sam wanted nothing more than another hot shower, but knew better than to try. Instead he burrowed into the thick winter blankets on his bed and tried to stop shivering. To his right, Dean was faring no better.

"I'm g-gonna kill this th-thing," the older brother said through his shivers.

And even if the Jack Frost wannabe wasn't behind the killings, Sam had to agree.

Neither brother noticed the frost patterns creeping up the window.

That had been fun!

It had taken the brothers - whose names Jack had learned were Sam and Dean (and why did that sound so familiar to him?) - hours to dig their nice black car out of his snow. Jack got bored watching them after a while, so he went off to play with the kids until their parents called them inside. With nothing else to do, Jack circled around the town once before heading back to see the brothers' progress. They had managed to work their way into the car by then, and were trying the engine. Jack followed them back to their motel, taking a seat on the inner windowsill. He watched them bundle up under their blankets, and wondered whether he'd been a bit too harsh.

"I'm g-gonna kill this th-thing," said Dean.

"Sorry," said Jack, although his voice went unheard, "I was just having some fun."

It had been worth it, he decided. Jamie and the other kids had loved it, and it had even cheered Jack himself up. It took his mind off what had happened to Sarah's mother just over twelve hours ago.

Sam agreed with his brother, which surprised Jack somewhat. Had he really angered them that much? He sighed, swinging his staff from side to side in front of him restlessly. Even after all the fun he'd had that day, after everything he'd done to make himself known, they still couldn't see him. They had to know he was there. Their lack of belief was astounding. Grown-ups really were useless.

"So," said Dean once his teeth had stopped chattering, "not a ghost."

"Not a ghost," agreed Sam.

"Got any other ideas, then? And don't say Jack Frost."

Sam was silent at that. His brother sighed.

"Sam…"

"I'm not saying it's the Jack Frost," he said, "But all legends come from somewhere, right? Maybe this is how it started. Some snow creature, running around and claiming to be the spirit of winter."

"Hey!" said Jack, frowning at the man.

"And where do the murders fit into your nice little theory?" asked Dean.

"Hey!" he said again, more indignant this time. And then he realised why the brothers were so eager to learn about him. "Wait, you actually think I'm the one who hurt those people?"

"You've got to admit," Sam answered his brother, "it's a good cover. Who would suspect Jack Frost of murder? And there was the ice at the last crime scene."

"No, you've got it all wrong!" said Jack, hugging his staff tightly, "I scared that thing away! I can stop it!"

Of course they couldn't hear him. Jack was actually thankful, for once, for his invisibility. If they thought he was the one behind the attacks, where did that leave them? On the other hand, and even worse, if they wasted their time chasing after him, they weren't going to catch the thing that was truly behind it.

Jack didn't listen to anything more, and the brothers didn't say much more anyway. As soon as they were asleep, Jack quietly slipped out of the window and flipped himself onto the motel roof. He looked up at the Moon, which was so bright in the middle of the black sky.

"I could use a hand here," he admitted quietly, "Because I have no idea what I'm doing. Please, I… I can't stop whatever is doing this by myself. I need them to believe in me."

The Moon didn't answer. Of course. But the light shone brightly down on Jack's roof, and it was soothing. Jack closed his eyes and rested his forehead against his staff.

The moonlight retracted suddenly, and that was what made Jack realise that something was wrong. He was alert, eyes and ears sharp.

A sound was coming from the brothers' room. An unnatural rustling, hissing, growling noise. Jack jumped back down and was glad that he had left the window open by a centimetre. It slid open smoothly, allowing Jack entrance to the room.

The sound was coming from under the bed. When Jack looked carefully, he could see an indecipherable shape shifting around in the darkness. His cold blood ran even colder when he realised what was happening, and the brothers remained sleeping.

"Wake up!" he shouted at the men, as he shot some ice under the bed. The creature yelped, but unlike last time it wasn't deterred. "Wake up, you idiots! It's right there!"

They didn't wake, and he hadn't expected them to. He continued screaming at them anyway, desperation driving him on. He sent more blasts of ice at the creature, but all it did was slow it down slightly. Delayed the inevitable.

Jack couldn't get close enough to the beds to try and shake the brothers awake. His hands would just go through them anyway.

The creature spoke. "Telling little children that I'm not real. Change his mind."

Jack watched in horror as a hand, yellowed and rotting, reached up towards Sam's leg. He shot more ice, one blast after another. But it was already too late. With a rough tug, Sam was pulled onto the floor.

His eyes flew open when he landed, and he yelled. He struggled against the hand that still held him tightly, kicking and screaming for his brother to wake up. Jack took the opportunity to jump onto Dean's bed while the creature was distracted by his prey. He landed lightly over the sleeping man, but he didn't know where to go from there. He was still as silent and intangible as before.

If shouting wasn't going to wake him up…

"Sorry about this," said Jack, and he tapped Dean's sleeping body with his staff. Frost spread over the man's torso, jolting him awake with a sharp cry. He looked disoriented for a second, but the cries for help from his brother snapped him out of the momentary confusion.

"Sammy!" he shouted, jumping out of bed with a gun already in his hands. He shot at the creature, and Jack joined him, ice and bullets flying at the creature. When it didn't help, Dean focused on pulling Sam out of the creature's grasp instead. Between his tugs and Sam's kicks into the creature's face, they managed it. The second Sam was free, Jack jumped between them and brought his staff slamming down onto the floor, pouring all his power into the action. Thick ice sprang up, growing like vines from the carpet to the ceiling, blocking Jack and the brothers from the creature. There was another sound from the monster, almost like a cry of defeat. And then silence. The brothers were smart, at least, and ran. They exited the motel room, into the cool night air, and kept going until they made it to their car. Jack followed overhead after icing over the motel door. He wasn't taking any chances with the creature.

He found the brothers slumped, exhausted, against the side of the car. Jack landed in front of them, and sat crouched atop his staff.

"You okay?" asked Dean once he'd caught his breath.

"Yeah," said Sam, "I've still got all my toes, at least. What the hell was that thing?"

"No idea. But it sure didn't look like Jack Frost."

Sam laughed weakly. "You woke up," he said, "I was starting to think you wouldn't hear me."

"I didn't," said Dean. He looked down at his shirt, which was still covered with ice. "This is what woke me."

Sam's eyes widened. "Ice," he said quietly. He blinked a few times. "Oh!"

"What is it?" asked Dean, "Sammy?"

"I just - I realised something."

"What?"

"We had it wrong!" said Sam excitedly, "The ice at the crime scenes, the kids, Jamie, the Jack Frost legend!"

Hope started rising in Jack's chest, blossoming like frost flowers on glass. They had it wrong… Was he figuring it out?

"You want to start explaining what the hell you're talking about?" asked Dean.

"And just now!" Sam continued, "The ice wasn't attacking us! It woke you up, it kept the monster away! It's like Jamie said - it was protecting us!"

Jack held his breath, waiting for it all to click. Come on, Sam, he thought. You're smart; you can figure this out.

"It was protecting us," Dean repeated sceptically, "It - you mean Jack Frost, right?"

Sam was quiet for a while, thinking, his face excited. "Jack Frost saved us," he said finally, quietly.

Jack grinned, joy filling him completely. Sam understood. "You're welcome."

What he wasn't expecting was for Sam to look directly at him, where he was perched on the crook of his staff. The widening of eyes was all it took for him to realise.

"Wait, can you..?"

"Jack Frost," Sam breathed.

A/N: This is it! What we've all been waiting for! I hope it's not too disappointing!

This has probably been one of my favourite chapters to write so far. It was so much fun thinking up all the pranks.

If I got anything wrong with the salt, etc, I'm really sorry! My knowledge of Supernatural mythology is kind of rusty at the moment.

As always, thank you so much for all the support you've shown for this story! And, again as always, reviews and critique is very welcome!

Thanks for reading!