Disclaimer: Yes they are mine... now just try and sue me... ahahahahaha...

A/N: Haha, the last one didn't go over too well, which makes me even more nervous to post todays one. You see, each time I write a story, I usually run it by my friend, and she will tell me if it's good or not. But, in order to give her somewhat of a surprise, I decided to keep this one shot as a total surpise. It is based on one of my favorite urban legends, and I just went with it and had fun.
Quick side note: due to some more reviews, I will be letting you know the day of a death fic here in the added notes, so it doesn't spoil it too much for readers. Also, every single one of your ideas that you give, I copy and paste into a little thing I have, and I will eventually get to them. Just last night I wrote one where Dean has a nightmare about Sam, so keep the ideas coming! I hope you enjoy todays...

Title: Little Hands
Genre: Wow, this is the first time I can actually say that the genre is Supernatural... haha, cool.
Summary: What will happen when an urben legend comes to life right infront of Dean's eyes? And more importantly will it be enough to save Sam's life...

Little Hands

The night was dark and Dean looked over at his slumbering brother. If anyone deserved to rest it was him, and Dean smiled gratefully at the days outcome. Things could have gone a lot worse when Dean got the call from Sam that afternoon that he'd been in a car accident.

"Are you ok Sammy?" was the first question that had come out of his mouth, "What happened?"

"Just bumped up," Sam summarized his injury of nearly a dozen stitches on his forehead from broken glass, "A drunk ran a light; caught the right side of the car. It's still running fine though, so I'll be back at the hotel in about a half an hour."

"But you're ok?" Dean emphasized.

Dean could hear Sam's laugh, "I'm fine Dean."

His Sammy was fine, and now as Dean drove the car to the next down; a large sheet of plastic covering the drivers side broken window, Dean decided to forgive his little brother for not telling him about the cut up noggin he had.

The Impala had been making odd noises for some time, and Dean made a mental note to stop at the next town so Sam could sleep in a proper bed, and so that he could look under the hood. A sign passed that read San Antonio: 56miles. That would work perfect.

'God, he looks tired,' Dean observed watching as Sam shifted in his seat.

Sam was never one to make a big deal when he was hurt; none of the Winchester family took that route. As long as it wasn't life threatening they'd patch it up and move on. It would be those hours in the middle of the night, after a dangerous and high impact hunt that Dean would watch his little brother sleep. Battered, bruised and hurting, Sam would twist and turn as he slept; the pain plastered on his face in a way that he didn't dare to when he was awake.

And even though the accident was something small and not even remotely supernatural, Dean saw that same look in his Sammy now.

"We're almost there," Dean mumbled, "Then you can get some rest."

An unguarded railroad crossing ahead caused Dean to slow, a thick fog seeping in like smoke as he did so. The sound of an approaching train entered the older brother's ears just as a loud cough came from the engine of the car.

"Oh c'mon Baby, not now," Dean breathed feeling the car stutter.

As if to spite Dean, the Impala suddenly let out one final hiss and stalled; right on the tracks.

"No, no, no," Dean urgently mumbled, trying desperately to start the car, "C'mon!"

Sam mumbled in his sleep at the sudden shout, and Dean look over. Not to see his brother, but the bright headlights of a train quickly approaching.

"Damn it!" Dean cried out, trying one last, futile time to get his car started.

Nothing.

"Sam!" Dean cried out, shoving his brother as he opened up his car door, "Sammy wake up! Sammy!"

"What!?" Sam jolted awake just in time to hear the loud, blaring horn of the quickly approaching train.

"Get out!" Dean yelled, "The train!"

Sam glanced out his window, his heart suddenly beating furiously in his chest. He looked back and saw Dean standing by the door.

"Dean go!" Sam demanded, "I'm right behind you!"

His brother took one last look in the car, and ran out to the front just as Sam attempted to open his door. It wouldn't budge, and the memories of that side of the car being smashed earlier in the day washed in Sam's head.

"Oh no," Sam whispered giving the door a hard jab with his elbow and shoulder.

It wouldn't give.

"Sam!!" Dean's frantic scream from outside the car was barely heard over the blaring of the train horn.

There was no way Sam would have enough time to get over the seat and out Dean's now closed door, and it seemed, in that moment, that time stopped. The age-old saying of seeing your life flash before your eyes suddenly was brought to life as Sam remembered everything in his life he'd done and still wanted to do. Dean was screaming outside the car, and Sam ducked his head to the side, wondering what to do in the mere seconds he had to left to live.

Then it moved.

Sam wasn't even sure it happened at first, but the Impala slid forwards quicker and quicker until just the tale end stuck out onto the track. It was then that Sam felt the heart churning jolt as the mere back end of Dean's precious car got grazed by the speeding train. The car fishtailed slightly at the impact as Sam jostled in the car; his heart pounding.

"Sam!" Sam, still ducked down partially in his seat, heard his brother's shouts as the train whizzed by mere centimeters from the back of the car.

It took a moment, but Sam finally sat up fully and crawled over to the drivers side. The door opened easily, and the train still careening by, Sam slowly got out.

"Careful Sammy," Dean warned, his voice breaking.

The train finished off it's nearly fatal trip, and silence enveloped the night air.

"Sam?" Dean's careful voice broke the silence as Sam stood, leaning against the diagonally parked car, staring at the red lights trailing the end of the train, "Sammy?"

Finally Sam turned to look at Dean, who looked more pale than usual, "Are you ok Dean?"

Dean laughed as he walked closer to Sam, "Dude, am I ok?"

Sam smiled and looked down at his feet; trying to will his heart beat back to a somewhat normal pace. He barely noticed when his brother placed two hand on either side of his jaw.

"Sam look at me," Dean's voice was soft and Sam looked up, "Are you hurt?"

Sam smiled and shook his head, "No. I'm ok."

"You sure?" Dean asked, more for his own sake.

"I'm alright Dean, I swear," Sam insisted.

Dean walked a few feet away, "Man, what the hell happened?"

"Your car tried to team up with the train to get vengeance on us?" Sam smirked towards his brother.

"Funny," Dean washed his hand through his hair, "I mean, the car started moving."

Sam thought he'd imagined that.

"Wait a second," Dean suddenly spoke up after a moment, "Dude, do you have your laptop?"

"Yeah," Sam glanced at the car, "It's in the backseat."

Sam watching, Dean quickly grabbed the laptop from the backseat and moved to the front of the car where he could use the light from the headlights to see. He placed the computer on top of the hood and began typing away.

"You actually know sites that don't have the letters triple 'x' written at the top?" Sam questioned walking over.

"Shut up Sam," Dean bluntly responded, Sam grinning.

A moment later, Dean stopped typing and looked triumphantly at Sam.

"There," Dean pointed at the screen, "Read that."

Sam walked over to the lap top and began to read aloud, "'Back in 1973 near San Antonio a school bus carrying twenty-eight kids from ages eight to eighteen was hit by a freight train going too fast; all kids were killed. It is said that the souls of those children lost are now haunting the railroad tracks; pushing staled cars from the same fate done to them. The only proof of this theory is that of the children's handprints on the bumper of the vehicles.'"

"Hey Sam," Dean's voice spoke up.

"Yeah?"

Dean looked up from the bumper of the car, a weird expression on his face, "Come here a minute."

Sam walked over, and joined Dean at the end of the dented Impala. The brothers had driven hundreds of miles in the past few days, and as much as Dean swore he was going to wash the Impala soon, it had remained untouched, and dust ridden for days. Which made it all the easier to see, Sam realized as he joined Dean looking at the metallic, dented bumper.

The imprint of children's hands sat neatly in the dust.

The End