Usually, I’m a pretty laid back kind of guy. Life comes at me, and I take it as I go. Sure, I have ambitions, and I follow through on them. I believe in working hard to achieve your dreams, and I’ve done pretty well in the fulfilling my dreams department. I mean, here I am, in my early thirties (Holy wow, that sounds old when I think about it!), and I’ve got what I’ve always wanted—an incredible career, the ability to touch people all over the world, amazing friends, and the best family anyone could possibly ask for.

I love my wife and son. Leighanne was the spark that really got me moving, and she’s made me into more of a man than I think I ever would’ve been had I never found her. And, Baylee, well…Give me a few seconds here. Baylee is…

Baylee is the culmination of every hope, wish, dream, and joy that I ever sought. He’s my miracle, my gift from God. Everything I thought I was before his birth dims in comparison to the person I became once I was a father. Life becomes a whole different ballpark when you hold your child. That little person that came from the love you feel for another person. The little person that needs you to take care of them and looks to you to fix everything that goes wrong in their world. God, I love my son.

With Leighanne and Baylee by my side, I could take on the world and everything in it.

Or so I once thought.

***

“Daddy! Daddy!”

When he woke in the middle of the night to his child pouncing on him, Brian had an instant to fondly remember the days when Baylee hadn’t been able to walk, before he reached a hand out to smack the light switch on the bedside lamp.

Sitting up, he squinted, bleary-eyed, at his kid. Baylee’s blond curls stood up in tufts on his head, and his expression was terrified. “Baylee? Buddy, what’s wrong?”

Baylee crawled onto his lap and pressed his face into Brian’s neck. “There’s something in my room.”

“Oh, buddy. There’s nothing in your room,” Brian murmured gently, rubbing his son’s back as he slid out of bed, Baylee firmly attached. “Come on, we’ll go back, and I’ll show you.”

As he padded down the hall towards Baylee’s room, Brian partly wished Leighanne were here to take care of Baylee’s nightmare. But, she was currently on a trip to visit her sister, who had just given birth. So, it was up to him to assuage his little boy’s fears. Which was weird all on its own, Brian thought. Baylee was never afraid of the dark or things that went bump in the night. It must have been some looming shadow of a toy that had the four year old freaked out.

He pushed open the door to Baylee’s room and noted that the night-light was still plugged in, the door to the closet was closed, and the curtains had been pulled over the windows. Whatever it was that Baylee had seen, Brian couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it could have been.

“Daddy!” Baylee clung to him even more tightly when Brian tried to step into the room. “Can’t go in there! The monster…” His tiny voice trailed off as he hid his face in his father’s shirt.

He knew what he’d seen, and what he’d seen had been scary. Baylee, being the big kid he was, had not been easily scared of anything, he was proud to admit. However, that monster that had opened his closet door and crept along his walls had big, gleaming teeth and glowing red eyes. The sound it had made had sounded like heavy breathing and nails screeching down a chalkboard simultaneously. “Scared” didn’t describe how Baylee had felt when he’d seen the monster coming at him. He’d nearly wet himself, and that would have been horribly embarrassing on top of nearly being eaten. He was glad his daddy was nearby. Somehow, he knew the monster wouldn’t come if his daddy were there to protect him.

“Okay, Bay.” Brian patted his back soothingly and flicked on the light switch as he stepped into the room. He was a little worried now because Baylee was trembling fearfully, and, one look at his son’s face, had him holding the little boy closer. “I promise, I’ll go through your closet and everything. You’ll see that there’s no monster in here.”

Baylee rubbed at his eyes and sniffled. “Promise?”

Brian nodded. “Cross my heart and hope to die. Stick a needle in my eye.” And grinned when his son offered him a wary smile.

“That’s silly, Daddy. If you stuck a needle in your eye, you’d go blind. Mommy says that’s how come I should be careful with scissors.” Though he was still nervous, Baylee tried to make his daddy see that he felt a little braver with his father by his side.

“She’s right,” Brian said over his shoulder as he moved away from the bed where Baylee sat nervously. “I wouldn’t want those big eyes of yours to ever be hurt. You’re too precious to me, Bay.”

“You’re precious to me, too, Daddy.”

And, because his daddy was one of the most important people in his life, Baylee needed to keep an eye on him as Brian walked towards the closet after making certain that nothing was under the bed, hiding behind the curtains, the door, or in his toy chest. Baylee knew the monster wasn’t in all of those places; he was in the closet, and Baylee needed to protect his daddy. He crawled to the edge of his bed and held his breath as Brian pulled the door open.

Brian flicked on the switch for the closet light and riffled through Baylee’s clothes, knowing his little boy’s eyes were on his every action. “Bay, there’s no monster in here,” he called over his shoulder.

“Not even on the floor?”

Brian smiled to himself as he knelt to look. His baby was meticulous. “Nope, kiddo.” He stood and, closing the door, walked over to Baylee. “There’s nothing in the room. No monsters or scary things that can hurt you. I promise.”

Even though he knew it wasn’t true, Baylee nodded timidly. “’Kay, Daddy. Thank you.”

Brian couldn’t stand the still scared look on his son’s face and knew that he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. Or, at least, not alone. “Alright, Baylee. Let’s make a deal. You can crawl into bed with me tonight, and, tomorrow night, no more sugar before bed. I bet all those M&Ms you ate gave your hyperactive imagination too much fuel. So,” he held out his arms, “let’s get back to bed, okay?”

“Okay.” Baylee climbed into Brian’s arms and held on tight as they left the room. He peeked over Brian’s shoulder as they left the room and could’ve sworn he saw the closet door creeping open. Too scared to do anything, he covered his eyes and kept quiet.

When they were settled into the big bed in Brian and Leighanne’s room, Brian scooted Baylee against his side and wrapped an arm around him. “You okay, Bay?”

“Uh-huh. Is Tyke gonna be safe?”

Brian frowned. “Of course. He’s sleeping downstairs in his bed. There’s nothing to worry about, Baylee. I promise.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Great.” Brian hoped that, by morning, Baylee wouldn’t even remember the monster he thought he’d seen. The last thing he needed was to spend sleepless nights to quell his son’s fears. He had an album that was getting ready to drop, and he couldn’t afford to stay home—much as he might want to. “And, Baylee?”

“Yeah?” He burrowed even closer to Brian, his eyes wide open and taking in every corner of the room, especially the closets.

“Let’s not tell Mommy about this, okay? I don’t want her to worry. This will be our little secret.”

Moments passed and, when he was sure his father was asleep, Baylee let out a tiny breath. “Our little secret,” he whispered to himself and spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ears alert for any sound.

“Are you sure about this?” Dean looked at the house across the street from them and then directed his gaze back to his brother. His brother, who was currently trying to nurse his temples with his fingers. Visions were a bitch and a half. “You okay there, Sammy?”

“I’ll be fine,” Sam replied through gritted teeth. “And, yeah, I’m sure about this. I saw the street name, and that’s definitely the house.”

Dean sighed and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Usually, he was fine with going into a job, smoking out a demon, burning some bones, staking some vamps, and adding a dash of salt to the mix to add some spice to it all. This job, though…Well, he just wasn’t sure about this whole monster in the closet deal. And, yeah, he was the last person to say that things didn’t go bump in the night because, with his job, he’d seen it all and then some. But still…

“Dude, you didn’t even see a monster.”

“The kid was screaming, Dean.” Sam’s head had stopped aching now, and he, too, studied the house where some sort of demon or monster or creature was lurking.

“The kid could’ve screamed because he had a nightmare, too.”

Sam frowned and studied his brother curiously. “What is up with you, Dean? Since when do you hesitate over taking a job?”

Dean shrugged. “I just think we should do a little more research about this before we go knocking on their door. Or gate.” He shook his head. “I bet they’ve got cameras in there, too. Friggin’ rich people.”

“You’re afraid of a security system and a gate?!” Sam choked back the laughter when he saw Dean’s murderous expression. “Come on, Dean. We’ve gotten past much worse. Besides, we’re not breaking and entering. We’re going to ring the doorbell—er, gate bell—and ask to talk to the owner.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Gate bell,” he muttered under his breath as he pulled out a box from under the backseat of his classic Impala. Rummaging through it, he tossed Sam a card. “Here, we haven’t done this one in a while. And I sure as hell am not afraid of a damn security gate.”

“Pest control?” Sam considered then glanced over at the trees, shrubbery, and flowers that seemed to cover the estate where their next job awaited. “Could work. We still got the uniforms?”

“Why do you even need to ask?” Dean pushed out of the car and walked around to the trunk.

It was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes as he followed his brother. “The family’s name is Littrell. The husband, Brian, is in a pop band that was ridiculously popular, thus the enormous estate. It’s his son that we have to save.”

“Great, and they’re famous, too.” Dean pulled out dark blue uniforms and attached a patch bearing the symbol of a local pest control company to the collar. “They’ll probably think we’re some crazy fans trying to break in.” He rolled his shoulders. “Can’t wait to see you explain your way through this one.”

Sam stopped, one hand in the jumpsuit, and stared at him. “Seriously, Dean. Why are you so hesitant about taking this case on? What have you got against a little boy who’s seeing monsters?”

“It’s not the kid,” Dean muttered. It was the dad.

He knew who Brian Littrell was. He’d known since Sam had done his research about the family, and he’d dreaded the job because it would probably wreck his reputation. He’d be damned if he’d ever admit to hiding a Backstreet Boys’ cassette under the driver’s seat of his baby, but, well, he was. Sam would probably laugh his way right out of town, and then Dean would be honor-bound to kick his baby brother’s ass. And, hell yeah, it was a cassette because there was no way in hell he’d ever buy a friggin’ CD player because, really, CDs and MP3s and whatever the hell else there was were for pansies like Sam anyway. “Look, just forget it, okay? Let’s get in there and find out what the hell we’re dealing with.”

When Dean stalked away towards the Littrell property, Sam stared after him. So Dean could be broody at times, but this was weird. Even for them. Well, whatever had crawled up Dean’s ass, Sam didn’t think now was the time to worry about it, so he hurried to catch up to his brother, who was currently in the process of ringing the gate buzzer.

“Good news,” Dean said, staring past the gates and at the house that stood several yards off.

“Yeah?”

“There’s no cameras.”

***

“This is getting ridiculous,” Brian muttered to himself as he made coffee at 8 AM on Saturday morning. He could’ve been sleeping still, but, after Baylee had woken him up at four in the morning, screaming again about the monster, he hadn’t been able to get back to bed. Three nights in a row, now, Baylee had claimed there was a monster in his room, and Brian was really starting to worry about his little boy.

Baylee had never in all of his four years of living been afraid of the dark or, really, anything scary, and, here he was, freaking out over something that was going bump in the night. Of course, there was nothing moving around in his room, but Brian knew the way a child’s imagination worked didn’t really leave room for any logic.

Well, at least Baylee had managed to fall asleep once the sun had come up. As if sure that nothing was going to get him in broad daylight, he’d crawled back into his own bed and conked out. Of course, Brian was now wide awake, but that was okay. It was okay because he wasn’t really worried about himself at the moment, anyway. He was worried that there was seriously something wrong with Baylee that was making him so afraid to be in his room at night.

Because the problem had gone from just being afraid of sleeping in his room at night to sheer terror of being anywhere in his bedroom at all during the night hours. And, for the life of him, Brian couldn’t figure out where the heck Baylee’s sudden terror had come from.

Maybe it was time to call Leighanne.

“Or not,” Brian told himself. Leighanne deserved the next day and a half with her sister and new niece without having to worry about Baylee. Besides, his wife was sure to never leave Baylee alone again because she would think that Brian wasn’t good enough to take care of their little boy.

And that was such crap, Brian scolded himself as he poured the coffee into his favorite mug. Leighanne trusted him with her life, and she knew as well as he did that they were great parents. Contrary to the current evidence, anyway.

So what could it be that had Baylee so scared of his room? Brian carried his steaming coffee up the stairs and down the hall towards his son’s room. After all, there were no trees near Baylee’s window that could leave shadows on his curtains, nothing in his closet, and he’d put away anything at all that could cast any sort of shadow on the walls by the glow of the night-light. So what could it possibly be? he wondered, watching Baylee sleep peacefully. What could possibly be making his son think there was a monster in his closet?

When the telephone rang, he left his dreaming child behind and picked up the cordless receiver in his bedroom. “Hello?”

“Hey, hon! I know it’s early, but I thought I’d find out how my two favorite men were doing.”

Brian smiled at the sound of his wife’s voice. How was he supposed to tell her that their child was currently traumatized? “Hey, baby. It is early, but you’re lucky I wasn’t in the mood to sleep in.” He paused. “We’re doing pretty well. Though we’re missing Mommy around here.”

“Aww, I know. I miss you two, too, but my sister and the baby are just so adorable. Wait until Baylee meets his newest cousin!” Leighanne laughed. “She’s just the sweetest thing.”

“Good. I’m glad, but I bet she can’t beat Bay, right?”

“Of course not. He’s in a league of his own.” She sighed. “Brian, I hate to do this to you, even though I know you’re not supposed to be anywhere for the next four days, but I was wondering…”

He frowned. “What’s up?”

“Well, I’ve just really enjoyed spending time with my sister, and we don’t do this very often. I was just thinking it would be really great if you didn’t mind if I stayed for another three days or so.” She waited a bit. “Do you mind?”

Okay, so he knew that tone of voice. It meant that spending more time with her sister was something she desperately wanted to do. After all, whenever he was gone, which was often these days, she didn’t really go out and spend time with her family all that much, while he was always off with the other Boys or dropping by Kentucky every so often. Besides, if she stayed away a few more days, he could try to figure out what was really bothering Baylee. He didn’t want his wife to come home to a cranky, terrified child.

“Go ahead and stay a couple more days, Leigh. We’ll be fine,” he assured her.

“Great! I miss you and Baylee, but I’ll be home Tuesday. Give him a kiss for me, will you?”

Before he could reply, the buzzer on the gate rang, and he frowned. Who was visiting at practically the crack of dawn? “One sec, Leigh.”

“Who is it?” she asked as he made his way down to the front door and pressed the intercom button.

“I don’t know. Let me see,” he told her and leaned close to the microphone. “Hello?”

“Hi. We’re here from Bust-a-Bug Pest Control.” A gruff, male voice greeted him. “There appears to be an insect problem in the neighborhood, and we just wanted to make certain that your home is protected. May we come in?”

“Pest control? Bug problem?” Brian frowned. This was news to him.

Leighanne interrupted his thought. “Baby, I’d rather we didn’t have bugs to worry about, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but-” He shook his head. “Sure. Let me open the gates for you.” And he pressed the button to release the gate. “Well, at least we’ll be safe from pests, huh?”

“I think the last thing either of us wants is crazy insect problems. Ick.”

Yeah, he didn’t really like the creepy crawlers either. “Well, I guess I should get off the phone and see about these insect control guys. I’ll see you in a few days?”

“Absolutely. ‘Bye, Brian.”

“I love you.”

“Love you back.”

Hanging up, he set his now-cold coffee and the telephone aside and, when the doorbell rang, he pulled the door open. The men on the other side were nothing like what he’d expected. Call him crazy, but he’d figured they’d be middle-aged men with paunches in the middle and have thick mustaches…Well, he could go on for a while, but he studied them for a moment.

One was tall, his dark hair curled riotously over his ears and fell into his dark eyes. He looked like he should be in college still, and the smile he gave Brian reminded him of the innocent way Baylee smiled. He wasn’t scrawny but definitely more on the lean side, while his co-worker was closer to Brian’s height. He had a sturdy, muscular build and currently wore a smirk on his face.

“Mr. Littrell? I’m Dean, this is my fellow associate, Sam.”

Brian blinked. “Yeah, hi. Good morning. So, uh, there’s a bug problem going around?”

Dean stepped into the house, Sam following him. Glancing around, he took in the furnishings and basic structure of the house before looking at the man whose voice he’d heard a good number of times. There was no way he’d admit exactly how many times he’d really listened to the damn tape, but it was still a little awe-inspiring to know that this man was one of the singers he’d rewound the tape to listen to.

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad,” Sam replied when Dean showed no signs of answering. “Your neighbors have got stink bugs and bees making nests all over the place.”

“Stink bugs?”

Dean turned to look back at Brian when he heard the other man’s nervous voice. “Sure. You know, they’re the big, flat disgusting things that buzz around like crazy. They get into the strangest places and build their nests. We’ve found some in people’s closets, sometimes. They can chew through walls if they get really hungry. Even the thickest of outer walls. The worst part is, your regular domestic insecticides don’t kill them off that easy. They just come right back.”

What, had Dean done research on stink bugs? Sam wondered. ‘Cause he sure seemed to know his stuff. And then he remembered that this was Dean, Storyteller Extraordinaire. “Actually, closets are usually the first places we check,” he added. “Most people don’t even know they have nests until they hear noises and start seeing things.”

Nests in closets? Dark, flat bugs? Noises? Brian was starting to come off the skepticism as he considered. Baylee thought there was a monster in his closet, and he’d heard weird noises and seen something. Maybe these pest control people were the answer to his son’s problems.

“Well, fellas. I think I might have a stink bug problem after all.”

They were on the second floor now, and Brian was simply amazed at the gadgets that pest control personnel were using these days. The two men had split up in the different rooms of the first floor and moved these handheld sensors over the walls. Brian had to admit the sensors looked like the Palm Pilot Howie carried around all the time, except for the glowing red light bulbs on the top of the device. It made weird noises, and, though he usually let the experts do what they were doing without asking questions, this sensor thing had him interested.

“So, what does that thing find?” he asked when they were examining his and Leighanne’s walk-in closets.

Dean and Sam exchanged glances before Sam looked over at Brian. “Uh, well, it can detect weak spots in your walls. You know, where the stink bugs may have burrowed and created their nest.”

“Oh.”

Nice save, Sammy. Dean was still a little weirded out by the fact that he was currently standing amidst a Backstreet wife’s lingerie. Interesting, though. “I think this search would definitely go better if Sam and I split up the remaining rooms on this floor,” he told Brian, backing out of the closet. “This one’s clear, Sam.”

“Great. So’s the other closet.” Sam shut Brian’s closet door and smiled at the nervous homeowner. “We do have another job that we need to get to in a little while. Do you mind if we separated to go through the other rooms?”

Mind? If they found the root of his problem, he’d kiss their feet—okay, maybe not their feet, but still—and offer them anything. So, no, he didn’t mind and told them so.

Thirty seconds later, he followed them down the hall towards Baylee’s room and the other guest bedrooms. Baylee, thankfully, was still sleeping. When Sam reached for the doorknob, Brian stopped him.

“My son’s sleeping in there. He’s been terrified of his room lately because he thinks there’s a monster. You know, silly fears kids have,” Brian explained lightly. Neither brother cracked a smile. “Uh, anyway, he just got to bed a couple hours ago, so if you could just be really quiet and-”

“Mr. Littrell.” Sam stopped him with a comforting smile. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

“Sam’s real good with kids, so don’t worry about him and your son. He’ll probably sleep through the whole thing,” Dean tried to offer reassurance.

“Okay.” So Brian hesitantly let Sam go into Baylee’s room. He could see the curly blond head poking out from the top of the blanket and, assured that Baylee was fine, he followed Dean into the guestroom across the hall.

Dean decided he was officially insane. He suddenly had the urge to squeal like one of those airheaded girls all over MTV whenever they saw their favorite band. It was so not like him, and he needed to snap out of it or slap some holy water on himself, just in case he’d been possessed by a teenybopper demon. Brian was a normal human being with a normal family and lived in a normal house. Well, as normal as a guy could get when he was known globally and sold millions of albums and lived in a huge house and-

“So how long have you been exterminators?” Brian asked, watching Dean testing the walls of the room.

The question had snapped sanity back into him, and Dean breathed a quick sigh of relief before answering Brian’s question. “Pretty much feels like since we were born.” The guy probably wouldn’t get the double meaning, Dean thought, but he was telling the truth.

Brian chuckled a little. “I know how you feel. I’ve been singing since I learned to talk. We’re lucky that we get to turn that into a profession, huh?”

“Sure. Lucky.” Dean nodded. Yeah, right. Battling demons is a walk in the friggin’ park. I feel real lucky. “I’m almost done with this room. I’ll just check in with Sam and then we can move onto the last room.”

“Great! So, you and Sam are…?”

Dean pulled open the closet and scanned. “Brothers. He’s my baby brother. Always got each other’s backs during these extermination jobs.”

Brian had a fleeting memory of the time he and Nick worked together…on a prank. Not quite the same but definitely satisfying from the look on Kevin’s face. He grinned to himself. Before he could respond, though, there was a high-pitched squeal from the other room. By the look on Brian’s face, Dean figured the kid was awake.

“Baylee!” Brian yelped and dashed out.

Dean followed him into the room across the hall, expecting the worst…and found Sam sitting on the edge of the bed grinning at a laughing preschooler. Definitely wasn’t what he was expecting and, apparently, Brian hadn’t expected that either.

“Daddy!” Baylee grinned at his father. “Wanna meet my new friend, Sam? He’s gonna make the monster go ‘way.”

Brian shot Sam a look before reaching out to ruffle Baylee’s hair. “It’s not monsters in your closet, Bay. It’s just bugs. Sam probably found a whole nest of yucky stink bugs in there. That’s what you’ve been seeing, not a monster.”

“Nuh-uh!” Baylee frowned. “It’s a monster.”

Sam nodded slightly at Dean and glanced over at the closet before leaning forward to tap Baylee's nose. “Hey, Baylee, why don’t you tell me what this monster looks like?” Brian shot him a glare, but Dean murmured that Sam knew what he was doing, so Brian backed off. A little.

“It’s got big teeth, like the Big, Bad Wolf in Red Ridin’ Hood!” Baylee explained, anxiety creeping into his voice. Rubbing his eyes, he watched as Dean moved towards his closet. “And big, big red eyes and he makes scary noises! It’s bad.” He bit his lip nervously because Sam’s friend was getting too close to the monster’s home. Even though he knew the monster only came at night, he was still scared of anyone going to the closet. Please don’t let the monster eat him, God, he prayed in his heart because Daddy had said that prayers from the heart were the best ones.

Dean pulled out the EMF sensor and scanned it through the closet. The red lights lit up immediately. Bingo. He stepped out of the closet and nodded at Brian. “Yup, you got one.”

“See! I told you, Daddy!” Baylee crawled over to Sam and gave him a hug. “Thank you.”

Sam, surprised by the hug—and, judging by the look on Brian’s face, he was surprised by Baylee’s affection for a stranger, too—patted the little boy’s back. He was cute, and, if Sam could help it, he would soon be monster-free. “You’re welcome, but it’s not quite gone yet. We’ll have to come back and get rid of it soon.”

Baylee leaned back, and the fear returned to his tired eyes. “It’s still there?”

“Sorry, buddy.” Brian held out his arms, and Baylee leapt into them and burrowed. “When Sam and Dean come back—Are you okay?”

He just said my name! Dean choked back the excited shriek and jerked his head in a nod. I’m a frickin’ moron! “Yeah. Sorry. Frog in my throat,” he explained nonchalantly.

Sam gave him a weird look, but Baylee studied him curiously. “Can I see the froggie?”

It was Sam’s turn to suppress a snicker as Dean’s brows flew up. “Kid, I don’t really have a frog in my throat.”

Baylee frowned. “Then how come you said-”

“Sometimes people say that when they cough, Bay,” Brian tried to explain gently. Dean was obviously not as good with kids as his brother. “There really isn’t a frog in anyone’s throat.”

“Oh.”

Dean figured it was about time he and Sam got the hell out of the place. They needed to figure out how to get back into the house at night to see this monster without alerting Brian to their presence. He probably wouldn’t take too well to the idea of actual monsters in his son’s closet nor would he appreciate the fact that his exterminators actually exterminated demons. Not exactly the kind of thing a pop singer would really understand, you know?

“Well, we’d better get going,” he interrupted the sickeningly cute father-son love. He could tell by the look on Sam’s face that Sam was thinking about their own relationship with their, now-deceased, father. Not the time to take walks down memory lane, though. “Sam?”

Sam blinked. “Right.” He stood next to Dean and smiled politely at Brian and Baylee. “We’ll just let ourselves out, but we’ll give you a call to schedule a day and time when we can come back to take care of your infestation.”

“Great!” Brian smiled back genuinely. “Really, thanks for all your help. You have no idea how grateful I am that you’ve found the source of Baylee’s fears. I’m actually looking forward to seeing you again.”

Did a Backstreet Boy just say that he was looking forward to seeing me again? Me, Dean, me?! “Uh, we look forward to coming back, too,” Dean replied. I’m fucking showering in holy water. Possession by a teenybopper demon is embarrassing! The sad part was, he knew he wasn’t possessed and was in danger of losing face.

When they were back in the Impala, Sam turned to him. “So, wanna tell me why you were acting really strange around Brian? Because, if I didn’t know you better, I’d say you know who he is. You were acting like one of those girls that follow his band obsessively.”

What could he possibly say to that? “You’re out of your mind if you think I listen to the abomination of pop music.” And he turned Led Zeppelin up.

“Jerk.”

Dean didn’t dare look over at Sam. His brother would just know. “Bitch.”

The next best thing to holy water, when you needed to exorcise yourself of an unhealthy obsession to foolish pop music, Dean decided, was pushing play on his old-school Walkman and listening to hours upon hours of everything from Black Sabbath to Metallica, with a little Motley Crue tossed in, of course. In a desperate attempt to cure himself, he’d ended up staying up all night, flipping through Sam’s notes on other mysterious happenings that they could follow up on after they’d finished with the Littrell case.

Which was why he was scrubbing his hands over his face in a tired attempt to wake himself up. Two cups of straight black coffee hadn’t helped, and Sam was still giving him concerned looks. The concern, though, Dean thought, probably came from what they were currently doing.

“Dean, they’re probably inside the house right now.” Sam glanced from the circuit box to Brian’s house then over to his brother. “We can’t just break in and expect to avoid bumping into them.”

Dean pried open the gunmetal gray box and eyed the wiring. Flexing the pliers he held, he rolled his eyes at Sam. “Did you lose your observational skills along the way, Sammy? That family is a bunch of Jesus lovers. Didn’t you see all the crap they’ve got all around the house? It’s Sunday morning, and there is no way they’d be anywhere but at a church somewhere. Besides, there’s a car missing.”

Sam focused in on the drive and noted that, indeed, there were only three cars instead of the four that had been parked there the day before. “Okay, maybe you’re right.”

“Wanna say that again?” Dean smirked.

“No. Are you almost done?”

“Keep your pants on, Sammy. I’m a hunter, not a freaking miracle worker.”

Even if the line between the two wasn’t always so clear.

***

Brian rubbed tiredly at his eyes and sipped more of the coffee that still sat in his mug. Then, he turned his attention back to the papers that filled the kitchen table. Or tried to. Bills had never been his forte, and Leighanne usually took care of them anyway because he was never home when it was time to send them in. Not that he had planned it that way, of course.

“Electricity…done.” One down, five million to go. Or so it felt.

It was Sunday, and, again, Baylee was sleeping well into the day as he’d spent yet another sleepless night in Brian’s bed. Those exterminators better come back soon, he thought. He couldn’t afford to be exhausted when he went back to LA for more recording or whatever it was they were supposed to be pretending to do for the album that kept getting delayed.

“Not going there,” Brian told himself. “It’ll just piss me off, and it’s Sunday.” Not to mention the fact that he wasn’t actually at a service today. He was just too tired, and there was no way Baylee would make it through the service.

So he sat and went through his bills and came to the conclusion that domesticity—at least, the part of it that involved such mundane things as bills—was not for him. Sure, he loved the vacuum cleaner. In fact, he enjoyed doing the dishes, too. But bills? No, thanks.

“Whoa. I sound like a woman in my own head.” Except that his wife would probably bash him over the head with one of his beloved (and clean!) frying pans if she heard him say that it was just like a woman to enjoy cleaning the house.

Before he could berate himself for sounding like such a whacko in his own head, he heard it. And froze.

There was a distinct creaking sound coming from the front of the house. In fact, it sounded just like his front door, and he would know because he hadn’t gotten around to applying WD-40 to the hinges so Leighanne would stop yelling at him about the loud squeaking the door made whenever it-

Voices. Were those voices he just heard? And footsteps. Those were definitely footsteps. He had intruders in the house, his alarm system hadn’t erupted into fitful sirens and beeps, and the footsteps were moving through the foyer and-

Yup. The stairs up to the second floor made creaking noises, too. It wasn’t the newest of homes, so it was to be expected. Except that now the creaking alerted him to the fact that his intruders were going upstairs.

Baylee. Baylee was upstairs. They were coming to kidnap his son!

That jolted him into action. Grabbing the first handy object that he could find, he crept as stealthily as he could down the hall. He flattened himself against the wall beneath the stairs and listened. The voices had lowered to whispers, but he could tell the tone easily.

His burglars and would-be kidnappers were arguing.

Unbelievable.

And then Brian looked down at what he held in his hands. A broom. Also unbelievable. What, he thought, would he do with a broom? Bash them in the heads with a broom, break its handle, and it probably wouldn’t render the intruders unconscious.

Why, oh why hadn’t he called 911 first?

“Freeze!”

Sam didn’t know what was funnier. Brian’s comical expression as he brandished a broom at them from the bottom of the stairs or Dean staring at Brian with a starstruck expression as his finger rested a hairs-breadth from squeezing the trigger on his gun. Not that rock salt would hurt Brian necessarily. But the whole scene was too damn funny.

“Dean?” Brian’s expression turned to a confused frown. “Sam? What are you doing here? Why are you breaking into my house?” Then, realization dawned as he studied the two leather-clad men. “You’re not really pest control workers! You’re burglars, and you cased my house yesterday. You-you are horrible! I’m calling the police.”

Dean jolted out of the “moment” he’d been having. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Brian. Baylee won’t be safe if you call the cops.”

“Are you threatening my son?” Broomstick brandish. “If I wasn’t so sure this would break, I’d knock you out with it.” Okay, that was a lame threat, Brian scolded himself. “If you shoot me, it won’t be good either.”

Sam rolled his eyes and stepped between the two men. Holding up his hands so Brian could see that he held nothing, he came down the stairs until he stood two steps above Brian.

“Look, Brian. We’re not here to hurt you, and we’re definitely not burglars,” Sam began in the gentle tone he had that always reminded Dean that Sam would’ve been a great hostage negotiator for the FBI or something.

Brian wasn’t convinced. “Right. So why is Dean pointing a gun at me if he wasn’t going to hurt me?”

Sam looked over his shoulder and raised his brows. “Dean.”

“What?” Dean was clearly disgruntled. His plans were backfiring. First, the house hadn’t been empty, and now they’d have to explain everything about what they were here to do. And, second, all those hours of classic rock hadn’t cured him. Damn it. He lowered the gun and put it away. “Better?”

Sam turned back to Brian and managed a small smile. “Sorry. He’s been like that since he was born. But neither one of us is planning on hurting you. Or Baylee. I promise.”

“Are you psycho fans? I mean, my dogs were once stolen, but you guys are definitely better because you’ve made it into my house. I must say, I’m impressed by that.” Brian didn’t know why he was babbling at his intruders. He should just call the police, but, then again, Dean did have that gun. And how could he know that Sam wasn’t carrying one either? Then, he looked into Sam’s eyes and saw the innocence and honesty that Dean had long-since shed. “You’re not psycho fans.”

Sam shook his head. “No. Brian, this is going to be really hard for you to believe, but there’s someone else in this house.”

“What, besides you and Dean?”

“I know you’re mad that we broke in, but we’re really trying to help you.” Sam could see the beginnings of speculation in Brian’s eyes. “Baylee’s been seeing something in his room at night, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s just normal childhood fear. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“You won’t be saying that when it kills your kid or steals his soul,” Dean commented.

“Dean!” Sam was horrified. This was not the way to get through to Brian.

Brian was already affected, though. His eyes had widened as he stared up at Dean. “Where do you get off saying horrible things like that? It’s not true, is it?” he asked Sam. “I mean, there can’t really be a monster in Baylee’s closet, right? That’s just an old tale, and, besides, monsters don’t really exist.” Right?

“Uh…well, yes. They do exist.” Sam sighed. “Brian, I know it’s really hard to believe, but there is a monster in Baylee’s closet, and we’re here to exterminate it. I had a vision about Baylee and whatever is-”

“Wait.” Brian held up a hand. “You have visions? Like the scary movie, supernatural kind of visions? Is that even possible?” No, he told himself, it wasn’t possible. God did not work that way, and He most certainly would not have put monsters, of the kind Sam described, in Baylee’s closet. Right?

Sam decided now was not the best time to launch into a lesson on why he got his visions because that would bring up the whole matter of the yellow-eyed demon. And mentioning a demon would probably send Brian straight to church. As it was, the man was clutching the cross dangling from the chain around his neck as though it were a lifeline.

“I have visions, and they’ve been coming true for the most part. Or they will come true unless Dean and I get to the root of the problem and destroy whatever evil spirit or whatever is disrupting people’s lives. Baylee’s in danger, and we’re here to help you. You have to believe that.”

Brian still looked unconvinced, and Dean decided enough was enough. They needed to see Baylee’s closet, and they couldn’t keep wasting time. “Seriously, if we wanted to kill you and burglarize your place—which has some pretty nice and expensive things, by the way—we would’ve done it yesterday. Why would we waste our time coming back?”

“Dean-”

Brian cut Sam’s annoyed tirade off before it could really get going. “In a weird way, that makes sense. I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but,” he glanced from Sam to Dean and back, “I think I might actually believe you.”

“So, when I said I believed you, I didn’t really mean that I completely bought the whole thing about monsters.” Brian followed Dean and Sam down the hall towards Baylee’s room. “I mean, I’ll admit that there is something weird going on in that closet, but I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

Dean paused with his hand on the doorknob and lifted his brows as he stared at Brian. “Dude. Seriously? Some sort of supernatural being is in your kid’s closet. That is a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

“In your world,” Brian shot back. “In my world, the only monsters are murderers, other sorts of criminals, and telemarketers.”

“Well in your world, the grass is always greener on the other side, and the sky is always blue, right?” Dean was getting tired of the disbelief on Brian’s part. There was a job that needed to be done, and it wasn’t going to happen if Brian kept hedging. He pushed open the door and stepped in.

Brian was on his heels in a flash. “My skies can be gray, too. But that’s beside the point. Are you seriously telling me that you think I’m naïve?” He lowered his voice when he remembered that Baylee was still sleeping. And, speaking of his son, Baylee was wrapped up in his blankets, and only his blond curls stuck out from under the covers.

Sam decided it was time to intervene. “Why don’t we just call a truce, guys? Brian, why don’t you let us do what we need to do and figure out what is haunting your son’s closet? And, Dean?”

“Smartass.”

“Just do your job, and keep the wisecracks on the side.” Sam raised his brows when both men stared at him. “What? I’m the only reasonable one of the three of us right now, so I’m calling the shots. Dean, go check out that closet. Brian, hang out with your kid. Go,” he added, when they continued to stare at him.

“Jesus, I’m going, I’m going,” Dean muttered and began to move towards the closet.

“Hey!” Brian stopped him. “Watch your language. We don’t tolerate using the Lord’s name in vain in this house. If you’re here, you abide by the rules,” he explained, when Dean glared at him.

“Friggin’ Jesus lovers.” Dean hoped Brian didn’t hear him muttering away in the closet.

Sam sent Brian a reassuring smile before he joined his brother. Sometimes, he really couldn’t believe the kinds of shit he had to put up with on the job. Whenever Dean felt really belligerent, he was a downright pain in the ass. Always thinking he was in charge and knew what was best, Dean didn’t usually utilize his people skills. Not that he had any. Unless you could count luring women into the backseat of the Impala or back to a hotel room somewhere people skills. Sam didn’t count it.

Of course, when a client—Sam liked to call them “clients” in his head because it sounded too weird when you said it aloud, and Dean was sure to say that they weren’t working for the people they were saving, they were working for Good, so they couldn’t possibly have clients—was difficult, the job could get to be a drag. He sincerely hoped this job wouldn’t be a pain to work. If Brian kept stonewalling them, though, it would turn into a hassle.

And then he couldn’t think at all as the pain shot through his skull, so it felt like there were mallets and hammers pounding thousands of nails and bolts through his brain. He never felt the pain in his knees as he dropped onto them and clutched his head.

Baylee was playing with a remote control car in the den as the television showed scenes from Disney’s Cars. Outside the window, the sun was shining, and the branches of the pine tree scraped against the glass.

“Vroom vroom!” Baylee cackled with childishly mischievous laughter as one of the cars on screen crashed at the same time as his remote controlled one smashed against the sofa.

The scene switched, and Sam barely registered the fact that Brian and Dean were patting his back, his shoulder, trying to soothe him. He dimly heard the panic in both voices, and Brian frantically asking Dean what was the matter with him. He didn’t hear the response as another image flashed in his mind.

There was sunlight streaming through the window of the den as Brian tucked a throw around Baylee as the little boy napped on the couch. He murmured something to his son before pressing a kiss to Baylee’s head, then he left the room, humming to himself.

Baylee shifted in his sleep and didn’t feel the breeze that swept through the room and fluttered his hair. The window was closed and locked.

Suddenly, the television turned on, and the screen was full of static for a moment. Then, a hand slid out of the console.

The image flickered in Sam’s head. The next image was grisly.

Brian wept in the center of the room as EMTs bustled in and out of the den. On the wall and seeping through the pristine white carpet of the room, blood formed patterns and dripped from Brian’s hands.

Sam collapsed fully onto the floor as the vision passed and waited for the room to stop spinning.

“Sammy? You okay?” Dean knelt next to his little brother and wished for the millionth time that Sam had been cursed with some other power. Like telekinesis. Telekinesis would be cool. Not so painful and would totally come in handy during a tricky battle with a demon or something. Visions, though, they could all live without. “Sam?”

Sam tried to sit up, but his head continued to pound, so he lay back. “Dean. It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” When Brian, too, leaned over him, Sam frowned. “Why does Brian have three heads? That’s not normal.”

It shouldn’t have been funny, Dean knew, but he couldn’t help it. The snicker escaped his lips, and he found himself faced with a pair of icy blue eyes. He disguised the chuckle by coughing. “Sorry, man. He’ll be fine.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” But Brian still watched Sam, concerned. “Is that normal?”

“Happens all the damn time,” Dean said nonchalantly, though he knew visions were anything but nonchalant. “He just had a vision.”

Brian’s brows flew up. “I didn’t know visions were supposed to be that painful. In movies or whatever, they’re pretty easy.”

“Yeah, well, this isn’t a movie,” Sam muttered as he struggled to his feet. “It’s real life, they’re a real pain, and your son’s still in danger. Dean.”

He knew that tone. When Sam had that tone of voice, it meant that things weren’t going to get better. If anything, they were about to get worse. “What is it?”

“There’s something in the television in the den.”

***

“Look, I bought the whole thing about the monster in the closet, but in my TV?” Brian shook his head. “No. No way am I going to believe that. It’s like The Ring or something.”

“Decent movie,” Dean commented. “That Naomi Watts was something else. But the premise was crap,” he added as an afterthought.

Brian nodded in agreement. “Seriously, half of it didn’t even add up. Besides, if you’re any sort of a decent parent, you would never let your kid get that far off track. Pft, I didn’t even bother watching the sequel.”

“Not worth it,” Dean assured him.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Let’s stay on track here, shall we? I know what I saw, Brian, and I’ve usually never been wrong. All we have to do is figure out why you have two monsters in your home.”

“Not two.”

Sam and Brian both looked at Dean. “What do you mean ‘not two’?” Sam asked.

“I checked Baylee’s closet, and there was nothing on the EMF. But when I checked the television in that room, the sensor lit up like Christmas.” Dean frowned. “It’s one evil spirit. I just can’t figure out how it’s changing.”

“It’s not a shapeshifter.” Sam pulled out a battered, leather-bound journal and flipped through it. “A shapeshifter wouldn’t be able to appear and disappear like that or get into an inanimate object.”

Dean leaned back in the kitchen chair. And considered. “Not a shapeshifter, but not our usual, run-of-the-mill evil spirit either. Most don’t change their forms,” he explained to a very confused-looking Brian.

“I still can’t believe I’ve got evil things roaming around in my house,” Brian said after a moment. “I go to church, I believe in God, and, yet, I still have something in this house that could kill my son.”

“Maybe we could put the herb mixture into the walls again,” Sam suggested. “It worked for our old house, maybe it could work here.”

Dean shook his head. “Nah. This is different. I just-”

“Sam!” There was the pitter patter of little feet that gave Sam a two second warning before a four and a half year old hurled himself into Sam’s arms. “You’re back!”

Sam managed to catch Baylee before he could fall off his lap and tried to figure out how to handle a child. He’d never exactly had the opportunity to be around children his age when he was that old, and, later, the only contact he’d had with a young child had been the really quiet one with the murdering grandfather. Of course, that kid had bonded with Dean. Baylee, though, was another story.

“Are you here to get rid of the monster?” Baylee bounced a little. “Are you? Are you? ‘Cuz I don’t want it to hurt Daddy or me, and you have to be really careful around it, too, because it could eat you. It’s got really big teeth,” he added with a tiny shudder. His arms latched around Sam’s neck as his head settled against Sam’s shoulder. “Please don’t let it eat Daddy and me. Mommy would be sad if we got eaten.”

Sam patted his back. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure you’re safe.” He’d never had a child give him such full trust before. It was disconcerting, but it made something warm spread through him, too.

“Promise?” Baylee leaned back, and his big blue eyes beseeched Sam to say everything really was going to be fine.

“I promise.” He tousled Baylee’s mess of curls and smiled over his head at Brian. “You’ll both be safe.”

“Yeah,” Dean muttered. “Just as soon as we figure out what the heck is going on.”

Dean paced the length of the kitchen, tossing a half-eaten apple from hand to hand as he and Sam went over the particulars of the case. “So what we’ve got is a shapeshifter that’s not a shapeshifter, except that it is. Oh, and it does a killer impression of what’s-her-face from The Ring.”

“Samara,” Brian supplied. When Dean lifted his brows and stared at him, Brian looked away, abashed. Okay, so it was awkward that he knew the character’s name even though the movie was several years old. Whatever. Dean could roll his eyes all he wanted, Brian thought.

Baylee looked up from the colorful picture he was drawing at the kitchen table. “Daddy, was S’mara the little girl from the movie? The one Mommy said I wasn’t s’posed to watch ‘cause it’s not good for kids’ eyes? But you sneaked me into see it when Mommy was sleepin’ ‘cause it wasn’t that scary?”

“Uh, well, yes.” Brian looked uncomfortable again as the truth of his sneaky adventures with Baylee were unraveled. “But that was supposed to be a secret between you and me. Remember that, bud?”

Baylee plucked a blue crayon out of his box before looking up at Brian and frowning with his nose scrunched up. “It’s just a secret from Mommy. You said so, Daddy. You said if Mommy found out that I was watching scary movies that she’d be really mad at you, and then you wouldn’t get any.” Baylee paused and cocked his head curiously. “Any what, Daddy?”

Sam had to stifle the snicker that tickled his throat at the look on Brian’s face. The man was obviously horrified that his personal life was being aired for two virtual strangers. He felt bad for Brian…a little. Dean, on the other hand, held out a hand to Baylee.

“Hit me, kid. That’s the greatest question I’ve ever heard from a four year old.”

Baylee slapped Dean’s hand and looked over at Brian again. “But, Daddy, what wontcha get? Huh?”

“We’ll talk about this later, Baylee,” Brian said through clenched teeth. The need to kick Dean’s encouraging ass was just too strong. Of course, he couldn’t say anything in front of Baylee anymore because it appeared that his little boy loved to tell Sam and Dean everything. And, if he was this comfortable in front of Sam and Dean, who knew what he’d spill to Leighanne when she came back? “Right now, we’re trying to figure out how to get rid of the monster in your closet. So, we’re going to focus on that and not what Daddy told you to keep a secret. Is that okay, Bay?”

Baylee nodded and went back to his picture. “Uh-huh.”

“Great.” Brian shook his head and turned to see Dean smirk. “You know, Dean, if it weren’t for the fact that you’re apparently the only hope I have of saving my son, I would’ve kicked you out of my house by now. Now, if we could just get back to the saving my son portion of today, that would be peachy.”

Dean snickered and turned to Sam. “He said peachy. I like him.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “It can’t be the yellow-eyed demon, Dean.”

That seemed to snap Dean back to the task at hand. “What do you mean? I thought you always had visions of that bast—uh, loser?” he corrected when Brian glared at him. “Dude, you seriously need to relax.”

“Just keep working, man.” Brian folded his arms and sat back in his chair. “So, would one of you mind explaining who this ‘yellow-eyed demon’ is? And I can’t believe I just said that like it’s something real,” he muttered to himself.

“It is something real,” Sam assured him. “This demon is ridiculously powerful, and, every so often, he kills. However, he only kills the mothers of those six-month-old babies who are or will be special. Kids who have powers.”

“Like your visions?” Brian asked.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, like that. Or telekinesis or mind control or lots of different powers.”

“You say that like you’ve seen these powers in action.” Telekinesis definitely sounded interesting, Brian thought off-handedly. Then again, mind control could have its perks. Surely, if he had the powers of mind control, he’d be able to push Jive into backing off and letting the Boys record how they wanted.

“We’ve seen them,” Dean said simply, interrupting Brian’s errant thoughts.

Brian thought he’d been freaked out before, insane for believing these two, and it all had to be a side effect of skipping church earlier, but, now, he was just plain horrified. “So these kids with these powers…all of their mothers were killed?”

Sam and Dean exchanged glances fraught with a meaning that Brian didn’t really want to decipher. “Yeah,” Sam answered after a few moments. “The demon killed them all on the night of each child’s six month birthday.”

“Wow.” Brian was finding all of this hard to digest, harder still to accept. How could it be possible that such terrible creatures existed on God’s green earth? How could God even allow them to exist? He felt so sorry for all the children who’d had to grow up without mothers. And then a thought occurred to him. “Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Sam, you have powers, too. Does that mean…Did your…Uhh-”

“She was killed twenty-three years ago,” Sam replied solemnly, his eyes taking on that lost look that always made Dean want to rewind the clock and somehow prevent Sam from having to carry the burden of their mother’s death on his shoulders.

There was a moment of silence while Dean shuffled his feet, Sam stared blankly at their father’s beat-up journal, and Brian sent up a prayer for Sam and Dean’s mother. Then, Dean cleared his throat and broke the silence.

“Baylee’s mother is still alive, Sammy.”

***

Sam paced Baylee’s room. Back and forth, side to side. He’d pretty much covered every foot of floor space that could possibly be walked over…and then some. Or so it felt. Every moment inched by so slowly, and his thoughts were just sluggish. He didn’t really have any ideas about what could possibly be lurking within the Littrell household.

There was no way that he could sense the yellow-eyed demon’s involvement in this case. Obviously, Baylee was not twenty-three, nor was he six months old. His mother was still alive, and, usually by this point, Sam would’ve known if they were dealing with the bane of his existence. They weren’t. Not this time.

So he paced some more. Every so often, he would stop to stare at the closet that Baylee’s monster had initially crept out of, trying to think of all the evil creatures that it could have been. After nearly an hour, he was still batting zero.

The house was silent for the moment. Brian had taken Baylee out for lunch and, from there, the park. Brian had figured that it was time, for his own sanity, that he got away from the place. It was obvious that nothing was going to get done, no demon, ghost, or evil spirit would be banished during the daylight hours. So off they’d gone. Dean had driven off to the local town hall in hopes of uncovering something in the town records. Perhaps there had been a violent death in the house before Brian and Leighanne had bought the place. At this point, the spirit could be anything, Sam thought.

So he was stuck pacing Baylee’s room in search of answers that may lie within his own mind. At the moment, though, his brain was giving him nothing either. He scrubbed his hands over his face and stared hard at the inside of Baylee’s closet.

The kid surely had a ton of stuff. Besides the hordes of clothes—holy crap, he probably never wore the same outfit in a year—there were toys spilling out of a wooden toy chest in the far corner of the closet. When he stepped out of the closet, Sam noted the large bookcase along one wall of the bedroom. Books were neatly stacked along its shelves, and, when he slipped one off, he noted that the worn copy was of “Little Red Riding Hood”.

“I can’t believe kids still like this story,” Sam murmured, flipping through the book. The illustrations in this one were better than they’d been in the one Dean had sneaked into the car for him when he’d been four. Their dad hadn’t believed in letting them read the garbage that was in fairytales, claiming that all the evil creatures were out in the real world. What was the point in reading about them when you could easily see them? “Well, we never came across a wolf that could talk and eat a kid, so I guess this one doesn’t count.”

When the phone rang, Sam nearly dropped the book before he caught himself. Sticking it back on the shelf, he walked into the hallway and stared at the telephone that sat on the table in the middle of the hall. Debating whether or not to pick it up, he finally did.

“Hello?”

A woman’s voice came through. “Hello. Who is this?” she demanded.

Sam’s brows rose. “Uh, my name’s Sam.”

“Sam? I’m sorry. I know I didn’t dial the wrong number, and I’m wondering who you are and where my husband is.” She sounded fairly suspicious, and he figured that a celebrity wife probably had cause to be easily suspicious of people.

He picked his words carefully, not wanting her to freak out and call the cops on him for trespassing or something. “Leighanne, right?”

“That’s right. Where’s Brian? And who are you, Sam?”

“I’m a friend of Brian’s, actually. Brian took Baylee out for lunch, but they should be back soon. Should I have him call you back?”

There was a short silence. Then, “Let me get this right. Brian took our son out for lunch and left his friend at home? I have a hard time believing that. Bri would have taken you out, too, if you were really a friend. Besides, I don’t recall Brian mentioning any friend named Sam.”

“That’s because we just met. I’m, uh, I’m actually the exterminator.” Sam could’ve smacked himself for the words as soon as they slipped out. That wasn’t what he meant to say.

“The exterminator? The one who came yesterday?”

He rubbed at the spot on his forehead that was beginning to throb. Brian’s wife was one suspicious woman, he decided. “Yeah. My partner and I came back today because you have a major infestation, and Brian wanted it looked at right away. So that’s why I’m here.”

“Do you usually pick up the phone in customers’ houses?”

Do you never ease up on the interrogation, ma’am? He decided to keep that question to himself. “Brian said that he might call if something came up, and he was delayed getting back. I thought it was him, so I picked up. Sorry, Mrs. Littrell.”

“Oh, no. That’s fine.” She seemed to soften a bit. “I’m sorry for being so nosy. It’s just that my husband’s got a lot of fans, and some of them are not exactly sane all the time. I just didn’t expect someone else to pick up the phone, so I thought something bad had happened. I really am glad that you’re taking the time to fix our problem. How bad is it?”

Sam sighed. “We’re working on it. It shouldn’t take more than a day or two to solve.” He paused as a thought struck him. “Mrs. Littrell, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, of course. And call me Leighanne.”

“Right. Leighanne. Did you ever hear any strange noises in your house? Or see anything weird? Paranormal, even?”

“Strange noises? Paranormal things? What do you mean?”

“Did you ever hear or see something that scared you, freaked you out a little? Maybe it sounded like an otherworldly type thing?” Sam hoped he didn’t sound too weird to her by asking such a question.

Leighanne seemed to ponder his question for a few moments before she answered. “Well, there may have been a few times that I heard almost a growling noise in Baylee’s room when I was tucking him in. Honestly, though, I just thought it was my imagination because I’d just finished reading him “Little Red Riding Hood”. It’s one of his favorite stories, and, sometimes, I swear I dream about it because I read it so much. But, whatever I heard, I just thought it was my imagination. It was just my imagination, right? Or is the infestation so bad that the insects are getting noisy?”

“Uh, well, I think, in that case, it may have been your imagination,” Sam told her, though he was mentally jotting it all down. It was too much a coincidence that she heard a growl and Baylee described the monster as the wolf in Red Riding Hood. “Thanks, anyway, for your help. I promise, by the time you’re home from your trip, everything will be fine.”

“Well, then, Sam, thank you. And, please, let my husband know I called to check up on my men.”

“Will do.”

When he’d hung up, Sam trooped back to Baylee’s doorway and stared at the closet door, his eyes narrowed in speculation. There was something there, he thought, and he was beginning to wonder why he hadn’t thought of it before.

“So let me get this right.” Brian paced his study as he tried to digest what Sam had just told him. “This evil spirit or whatever it is takes the shape of whatever a child is most afraid of? In Baylee’s case, he’s afraid of the Big Bad Wolf and Samara, so the spirit feeds on that and turns into that being?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, pretty much. Baylee loves the Red Riding Hood story, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not afraid of the Wolf. Your wife did say that she thought she heard a growling sound when she was in his room.”

“Yeah, well, maybe she was just really tired.” But Brian knew it was a futile attempt on his part to explain away the reality of an evil spirit. His insides were in turmoil at the thought of it striking when both his wife and son were in the room. He would never be able to handle losing them and was infinitely glad that this was happening while he was here and Leigh was gone.

Dean stood from where he’d perched himself on the edge of Brian’s desk. “We all know you don’t believe that one bit, so let’s just cut through all that bullshit.” He was tired of Brian’s constant flip-flopping. One second, the guy believed everything Sam and Dean told him about the supernatural, and the next, he was back to the tired old Jesus lover routine. He may be a Backstreet Boy, Dean thought, but it didn’t mean he was an easy man to deal with.

“Okay, fine. You’re right. So…evil spirit.” Brian ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Now that we know what it is and how it works, you can get rid of it. Right?”

Sam looked at Dean, and Dean looked at Sam. Neither of them had an answer. Sam had spent a good amount of time poring through their father’s journal for something that sounded anything at all like the monster they were dealing with in the Littrell household. The search had resulted in nada. Zip. Zero. Uh oh.

Brian saw their looks and immediately knew what it meant. “You don’t know. You don’t know? You don’t know?! You do this, this demon exterminating thing for a living! How the hell do you not know how to get rid of the one in my house?!”

Dean let out a long-suffering sigh. Ah, the short-sightedness of a new believer. “Look, Brian. This might be our job, but that doesn’t mean we always have every, single answer. Hell, a possessed truck nearly killed us once because we didn’t know, until the last minute, how to destroy it. We might not know what to do right now, but that doesn’t mean we won’t protect you and your kid.”

“Trust us,” Sam encouraged quietly. “He’s right. We’re going to do our best to help you. We’re not leaving until this house is free of whatever this evil spirit is.” He paused, his eyes studying Brian in that calm, direct way he had that cut through to the core of a person. “Do you trust us to keep Baylee and you safe?”

Brian pressed his fingers to his eyes and took deep breaths to calm down. He was close to hysterical, and he knew it. It was very rare that he got this way, but he knew now was not the time to be hysterical. He had a dangerous spirit in his home that was threatening his son. Baylee could very well die if he didn’t pull himself together and trust the two men in the room with him. They’d proven themselves by actually figuring out what was going on, and they’d promised to take care of the problem.

He opened his eyes, met Sam’s quietly confident ones then Dean’s cocky look. “Okay. I trust-” An ear-splitting scream cut him off. He had one terrifying moment in which he felt the ground fall away beneath his feet before those feet moved. “Baylee.”

Brian was fast, but Sam and Dean were faster and had far more experience in such matters. In seconds, they were in the den. Dean had an instant to see Baylee cowering in a corner and screaming, crying at the top of his lungs before he focused on the other figure in the room. The pale and ragged figure of a girl with tangled hair moved towards Baylee, her arms stretched towards him, nails sharp.

It happened in mere seconds. Baylee covered his eyes, Brian moved to grab him. Dean whipped out his gun and fired one shot. Then another. The rock salt did its job—for the moment, anyway, Dean thought—and the figure exploded with an unearthly scream. At the sound of the gunshots, Baylee’s cries turned into louder shrieks of fear.

Brian scooped Baylee into his arms and dropped onto the couch, cradling his whimpering child against him. “It’s okay, Baylee. Everything’s going to be fine. The monster’s gone. Shh, buddy, everything’s okay.”

Baylee just pressed his face into Brian’s shoulder and sobbed, his little fingers clutching Brian’s shirt. “No. No, no, no,” he kept crying. “Make it stop. Make her go ‘way. Please, Daddy. Please!”

Brian continued to murmur soothing words as he rubbed a hand comfortingly over his son’s back. His eyes met Dean’s with something close to rage burning in them. Dean figured the message was clear. We’ll talk. You can bet your ass we’ll talk.

Sam placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. He, too, understood Brian’s expression, and he understood Brian’s reaction perfectly. Brian needed someone to take his anger out on, and, having been unable to prevent Baylee from another experience with the monster, Dean was the first one in line to feel that anger.

“Let’s give them some privacy.”

***

An hour later, Baylee was peacefully sleeping in Brian’s bed. He’d sobbed for a while before the cries had subsided, and exhaustion had taken over. Brian didn’t plan on taking his eyes off his son for even an instant, so the three men spoke in low tones in Brian’s room. Though his anger had cooled considerably, it was far from gone.

“We trusted you,” he nearly hissed. “And then he had to suffer through that traumatizing experience. He’s going to have nightmares for months, years about that. Unless, of course, you fail completely, and I lose my son.”

Sam shook his head. “Brian, we didn’t know that the spirit would strike in the middle of the day.”

“That’s a rotten lie.” Brian’s fists clenched at his sides. “Didn’t you have that vision? The one where Baylee was-was…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. “You said it was during the afternoon.” He flung one arm to gesture towards the window and the time of day the sunlight indicated. “What the hell time is it if it’s not afternoon, right now?”

“Look.” Sam held up a hand. “We were wrong. We didn’t expect for the spirit to show up when it did. We made a mistake.”

“Sam,” Dean began, but Sam cut him off.

“Dean, we made a mistake,” he repeated. “We miscalculated, but we learned something.”

Brian crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, yeah? And what’s that? That you’re incompetent?”

With what he considered an incredible amount of patience, Sam shook his head. “It’s not just a night thing. This spirit doesn’t just appear when it’s dark out or when Baylee’s sleeping. In my vision, Baylee was sleeping when he was attacked. Baylee usually wakes you up in the middle of the night with stories about the monster, right?”

Brian didn’t know where Sam was going with his analysis of the evil spirit, but he wished the man would just get to the point. He didn’t care about what the habits of the monster were, he just wanted it gone. He just wanted his house to be safe again, to know that his family was safe. Home shouldn’t be a dangerous place, he thought furiously.

“Yeah,” he finally answered with a sigh. “It was the middle of the night.”

Sam sent him an appreciative look before continuing. “I just assumed that Baylee had a nightmare about the Big Bad Wolf or Samara, which caused them to appear, but that can’t be the case.” He glanced over to the bed where Baylee was wrapped up in blankets, tears dried on his face. “We need to find out what happened before Samara showed up.”

Brian and Dean followed his gaze. Neither wanted to interrogate the little boy. Brian wanted his son protected and didn’t want him to have to relive whatever had happened. Dean just felt guilty about making the kid more upset. He knew what it was like to be five and scared that the demon that had killed your mom was gonna come back and burn you up, too. He’d been an insomniac for a couple years after their mom had died. Staying up until dawn, he’d kept watch over his family, his eyes and ears alert for any sights or sounds that might indicate the coming of the demon. Of course, the damned son of a bitch hadn’t come back then, but he remembered how he’d felt at that age.

Damned if he wanted another little boy to constantly be afraid of the dark and the evil, ugly things it hid.

“You want to ask him what happened.” Brian’s voice was flat, hollow. He knew it was the right thing to do. His gut, his head were telling him that it was the only logical way to find out what Baylee had been doing or thinking before Samara had materialized. His heart wasn’t in it at all. “When he wakes up.”

Sam nodded, pleased that Brian seemed to understand what they had to do. It was no longer a choice. Whatever had to be done to keep Baylee safe would be done. Having the little boy go backwards and talk about whatever he’d done and seen was part of that.

“When he wakes up,” he agreed.

Brian sat on the bed with Baylee, his arms around his son. Baylee clutched a huge, raggedy teddy bear for comfort. Though he’d been awake for an hour, his eyes were still red, and he was still trembling. Brian could feel the nervous tremors that shot through his son, and his anger only inched higher. A feeling of helplessness swamped him. He was the father, and, as such, he should’ve been able to protect his child. Instead, Baylee had seen a monster several times and nearly been killed by one. It infuriated and upset Brian that he could do nothing to protect his little boy.

“You’re doing all you can,” Sam murmured. When Brian’s eyes shot to his face, he shrugged and gave him an encouraging smile. “You’re doing whatever you can to protect him. By trusting us, that’s just increased your chances a lot more. We’re not going to let you down.”

Dean nodded in agreement before his gaze tracked to Baylee, who watched the brothers with anxiety apparent on his face. Dean knelt until he was eye level with Baylee. “Hey, Baylee. How are you feeling?” His voice was uncharacteristically soft because he didn’t think it would help Baylee any if he were to sound like the give-‘em-hell gunslinger he must’ve seemed like before.

Baylee clutched his bear closer and sniffed. “Okay,” he answered in a teeny tiny voice.

Sam took his place next to Dean. “Baylee, I wanted to say I’m real sorry for what happened today. My brother and I were supposed to keep you safe from the monster, and we didn’t. So we’re really sorry.”

Baylee studied him in silence for long moments, before his big blue eyes shifted to Dean’s face. After a few seconds he sniffed again. “S’okay. You tried.”

Brian rubbed Baylee’s shoulder comfortingly. “Bud, I’m sorry, too. I told you that the monster wouldn’t bother you again, but it did. From now on, I’m gonna hang out with you all the time. That way, you’ll always be safe. How’s that sound?” He wasn’t entirely positive that the monster wouldn’t appear when he was in the room with Baylee, but, at the moment, he just wanted to offer some sort of comfort to his son.

“Daddy.” Baylee snuggled closer into Brian’s arms. “You and Dean and Sam tried. You tried real hard to keep the monster ‘way. But the monster’s just gonna keep comin’ until it eats me.” He shuddered. “Please don’t let it eat me.”

Brian’s eyes met Sam’s then Dean’s. “We won’t. We promise that the monster will never, ever touch you, Bay.”

Sam had to admit that his heart broke for Baylee. He was trying to be brave and stoic, but he was terrified out of his mind. No child, he thought, should ever have to be afraid that a monster was going to kill him. But he knew better. Sam’s whole life had been defined by the monster that appeared in the dark, and he knew that the only way to keep yourself safe was to be smart. So he was going to be smart, and he was going to get rid of the monster in Baylee’s house because, every time he helped another child, it felt as though he was helping little Sam and Dean out, too. Balancing the scales…Sort of.

“Baylee, we have to ask you some questions,” he began, bringing Baylee’s attention back to his face. “I know you’re very scared right now, but Dean and I need to know what happened before the monster came. I know it’s hard for you to go back to that, but we need to know. The more we know, the more we can help get rid of the monster for you.” Sam took a chance and reached out to pat Baylee’s knee. “Help us help you, Baylee.”

Baylee squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his face into the teddy bear. “No.” His voice was muffled against the bear. “It’s too scary.”

Brian gently tugged the bear away from Baylee’s face and met his son’s terrified blue eyes. “Baylee, buddy. I know it’s scary for you. I know that you don’t ever want that to happen again, and that it hurts when you think about what happened. The thing is, if you don’t tell us what happened, we’ll never really know how to help you. We’ll never know why the monster shows up, and we won’t be able to make it go away.” Brian tapped Baylee’s nose lightly. “I know you’re very brave, Bay. I need you to be super, super brave and tell us what happened. It’ll be over before you know it, and then we’ll go out for pizza as a reward. How’s that?”

Baylee seemed to mull it over for a few moments. “What kind of pizza?”

Brian grinned. “Whatever kind you want.”

“Okay.” Baylee looked over at Dean and Sam. “Can they come, too?”

Brian grinned. “It’ll be a pizza party.” He hugged Baylee. “Are you ready to help out?”

Baylee nodded hesitantly. “I think so.” He looked up at Sam. “What do I say?”

“Baylee.” Sam gave him an encouraging smile. “What were you doing in the den? Were you playing a game? Watching TV?”

The little boy scrunched up his nose as he tried to remember. “I was making a picture for you. And I was watching TV,” he added, glancing up at his father. “I know you said no TV and no den, but Daddy, that’s where the crayons were. An’ then, I just wanted to see a little TV.”

Brian patted his shoulder. “It’s okay. Just this once, I’ll let it slide.”

“’Kay.”

Dean leaned forward. “What did you draw for Sam?”

“It was a picture of you and him and me and Daddy.” Baylee cracked a tiny smile. “It was a friends picture ‘cuz we’re friends, and you’re helping me and Daddy ‘cuz that’s what friends do. It was a thank you picture. I still have to make yours,” he added.

Dean grinned. “Thanks, man. I’m sure Sam and I will keep your pictures forever.” He paused. “What were you watching on television?”

Baylee shrugged. “I wanted Dora, but it wasn’t on yet. Just c’mmercials. So I was drawing and waiting.”

Sam and Dean exchanged puzzled glances over Dora. Who was she? Then again, maybe she wasn’t a person and maybe she was a giant purple hippo. Clearly, Dean thought, kid’s shows these days were really weird.

“So were you just listening to the TV and concentrating on your picture?” Sam asked. When Baylee nodded, he frowned. “Are you sure you weren’t thinking about anything? Like why Dean and I are here?”

Baylee hesitated a moment, fear flickering in his eyes. “Maybe. I was thinkin’ about how when the monster’s gone, everything will be okay again. And then I was thinkin’ about how in the scary movie, even when the lady thinks Samara’s gone, she’s not.” He started to tremble again, and Brian could feel him tense up.

“It’s okay, Baylee. Nothing’s gonna happen to you while we’re here.” Brian kissed the top of his head. “Just take your time and tell us what happened.”

Baylee swallowed hard and bit his lip. “I just…I just thought about how maybe our monster’s like Samara and won’t go ‘way even when we try. And then-” He shuddered. “And then the TV did the loud noise and black and white thing…and she was there,” he ended with a whisper. “And I knew she was gonna eat me if I looked at her eyes, so I didn’t. I didn’t.” And he burst into tears again, burying his face against Brian’s chest.

Brian cradled his son and tried to soothe him. “It’s okay, Baylee. You did good. You did the exact right thing. She’s not gonna come near you again. You’ll be fine.”

Sam and Dean stood and nodded at Brian. The monster fed off what Baylee was afraid of and showed up at any time. Now that they knew the what and how, Sam mused, it was a matter of finding the way to destroy the evil shapeshifting spirit. And that was going to require a lot of finesse.

***

“So.” Dean leaned against the hood of the Impala and studied the sprawling home, focusing in on the third window from the left on the second floor. His mind sped with the implications of everything Baylee had told them while trying to come up with a solution for their current problem. “Any ideas, genius?”

Sam paced the length and width of the Impala, muttering to himself, but he glanced over when Dean spoke. “I’m working on it. You?”

“It’d be nice if we could convince the kid to not be afraid of the Big Bad Wolf or the Ring girl,” Dean mused aloud. “Too bad life isn’t that simple.”

Sam sighed and thought. Hard. When a thought occurred to him, he stopped in half-step and frowned. “Hey, Dean? Remember that time we found that spirit in that old house? The one that changed into whatever people thought it was?”

“Was that the time I poured itching powder in your pants, so you scratched your ass for a day over that case?” Dean snickered at the memory.

“No, it was the time I super-glued your hand to the beer bottle,” Sam shot back and grinned at the image that popped into his head. “But, anyway, yeah. That’s what I was talking about.”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, so? What about it?”

“Well, what if this case turns out to sort of be like that one? What if we could convince Baylee to not be afraid?” Sam paused as a light bulb seemed to go off in his head. “Or, what if we turned the Big Bad Wolf and Samara into something else?”

Dean listened to his brother ramble as an idea flickered in his mind. “Samara could only be defeated if you spread her message…or locked her into the damn well.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “And that has what to do with now?”

“Well, come on, Sam. That’s why the spirit didn’t die when I hit it with the rock salt. I just pissed it off.” He began to pace now as the idea picked up speed in his mind. “Now, think. We can’t lock her in a well, and we’re not making a videotape of her, so how do we get rid of her? Then there’s the Wolf. That sucker only died because that hunter guy split him open with an axe, right?”

Sam still didn’t know where Dean was going with the whole thing, but he knew his brother would get to a point that made sense. “Okay, yeah. We’d never get close enough to Baylee’s wolf to get an axe into him, so that’s out. Where are you going with this, Dean?”

“Just listen.” Dean leaned forward and finally said his idea aloud.

When he was done, Sam leaned against the Impala, too, and nodded. It was the only way they could think of, and it had to work. It would work.

“You’re sure this is going to work?” Brian stared them down, his expression half-believing. Sam couldn’t blame him for not being sold on the idea. After all, they had let him and Baylee down before and nearly gotten Baylee killed in the process.

Dean straightened from where he leaned against the kitchen counter. “Yeah. We’re sure.” He held open his jacket, so Brian could see what was inside. “See these? The second that spirit shows up, we’re gonna destroy it.”

“That’s what you said last time. And don’t go showing off your big guns, buddy, they didn’t help anyone last time,” Brian shot back. “How do I know that it’s going to work one hundred percent?”

Sam tapped his neck and gestured towards Brian. “What are you wearing around your neck?”

Brian frowned then slipped his necklace out from under the collar of his shirt. The diamond-encrusted cross dangled on its end. “This? What’s this got anything to do with saving Baylee?”

“You believe in God, don’t you? You put a lot of faith into what He can do.”

“Of course. It’s only through Him that you’ll destroy this evil spirit because He’s going to help you.”

Sam tried not to roll his eyes and just nodded. “Right. Well, you believe in God, a being you can’t see but know does big things for you. You just have to have faith in us, too. We know what we’re doing. We’re going to work this the way we did a past case. It should work.”

“There’s a point nothing percent possibility it won’t work,” Dean added quickly when Brian’s mouth opened. “That means we’re gonna get this son of a—hmm. We’ll get it,” he finished when Baylee skipped into the room, and Brian glared at Dean.

Brian muttered under his breath as he watched Baylee pull a juice box out of the pantry. He seemed to be debating it over with himself, and, with one final glance in Baylee’s direction, he sighed. “Okay. Okay, we’ll do this your way. Are you sure holy water won’t just work?”

Sam patted his pocket. “I’ve got some just in case, but this isn’t a demon. Holy water only works on demons or those possessed by demons.”

“Okay.” Brian placed a hand on Baylee’s shoulder and smiled back when Baylee grinned up at him, purple juice staining his lips and teeth. “Why don’t you go brush your teeth, Bay? Then, we’re going to go on a special mission to chase away the monster.”

“Really?” Baylee’s eyes opened wide as he stared from his father’s face to Dean then Sam. There was a shadow of worry in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“We don’t have to,” Brian told him, kneeling until he was eye level with his son. “Baylee, we can do this whenever you’re ready.”

Sam stepped forward and crouched next to Brian. Carefully, he rested one hand on Baylee’s shoulder. “Baylee, if we don’t do this soon, the monster will keep coming back. If we try our best and just do what we have to do, we can make it go away.”

“Forever?”

Sam’s grip tightened before his hand fell away and he nodded. “Yes. Forever.”

His eyes full of trust, Baylee bit his lip nervously. “Okay. Okay, we can do the mission, but is it okay if I’m scared? ‘Cause I’m scared. A lot.”

“It’s perfectly fine.” Dean had to hand it to Baylee. The kid was tough. “If you weren’t scared, you’d be like Superman or something. Even I’m scared.”

Baylee’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Sure. I’m scared because if Sam and I don’t get this monster for you, then something might happen to you or your dad. That’s what I’m scared of.” Dean held out his hand. “So, if you’re scared, I’m scared. How’s that?”

Baylee looked from Dean’s outstretched hand to his face. Then, he placed his tiny hand into Dean’s larger one. “Deal. Let’s go get that monster.”

***

Baylee scurried around the den. Dropping his crayons and not bothering to pick them up, he kept moving. Four feet from the television, he knelt on the floor for a moment before he was up and hurrying around again. Though he was as nervous as a cat, he didn’t let it show. He knew how important it was that he did everything exactly the way Sam and Dean had explained it to him.

When he stopped in the middle of the room, arms on hips, he studied the den and, seeing that it was the way he wanted it, he grabbed the remote and flipped on the television. Settling down on the rug, he cheered up when he saw that Dora the Explorer was about to finish and Go, Diego, Go was on next. He always told his dad that he liked Diego because Diego was a boy and did lots of cool things, but, if he were really honest, he liked Dora more. So what if she was a girl? She was still pretty cool.

“Focus, Baylee.” Brian’s voice came from the doorway, and Baylee whipped around to see Brian’s head peering around the side of the door. “Go.”

Baylee nodded. Taking a deep breath, he told himself to forget about Dora and Diego. In his mind’s eye, he saw Boots and kicked him into the back of his mind. Conjuring up the right image, he held himself very still and, putting his hands over his face, he peeked through his fingers as he kept concentrating on his mental image.

Sam and Dean quietly slipped into the room and stood still in opposite corners of the room. Their watchful eyes shifted between Baylee and the television. Slowly, ever so slowly, a breeze began to flow through the room. It fluttered the curtains and the hair that Sam had let grow a little too long over his eyes.

After a few moments, the television went to static, and Baylee froze in place. No matter what his dad, Sam, and Dean had said about how safe he would be, he was still terrified.

The air in front of the TV seemed to shimmer then shifted to a static image in the shape of a girl. It flickered and faltered for a few seconds before it took on solid shape. The girl’s hair was long, dark, and bedraggled. It hung limply down her back and fell in clumps over her face, covering her eyes. Her head was bent, and her dirty, torn gray dress dripped water on the floor. Slowly, her hands stretched out in front of her. Her fingers were tipped with razor-sharp nails in a deadened black shade.

When she began to move, Baylee scrambled backwards and found himself with his back against the couch. There was nowhere to go, and he began to whimper in fear.

“Come on, Bay.” Brian stood in the doorway, now, twisting his hands together. His knuckles were white with fear as it looked increasingly as though his son was about to be hacked to bits.

At the sound of Brian’s voice, Baylee’s whimpering stopped. His eyes focused on the floor near Samara’s feet, and, though it was hard, he began to giggle. They were nervous giggles at first, a bit hesitant. Then, they became stronger, and Samara slowly lifted her head as though to see what it was that was so funny.

And then she slipped and fell.

Baylee howled with laughter as the banana peel he’d left on the floor slid towards him. He didn’t cringe when, in an instant, Samara was up on her feet and moved towards him again. This time, Sam noticed that, when her hands stretched out, her nails were dulled and no longer sharp.

“Okay, Baylee. Part one down, focus on part two now,” he murmured and slipped his rock salt filled gun out of its holster.

Baylee struggled with his laughter but managed to settle a bit and stared down Samara. “You’re not scary,” he told her simply. “You’re just a fidgeman of my imagination.”

“Close enough,” Dean muttered and moved into place behind Samara.

Samara used one hand to carefully lift the hair out of her eyes. The sounds emitting from her throat were incoherent and garbled.

Baylee just shrugged. “You remind me of Uncle Nick’s ugly old girlfriend, Paris. She was dumb. I don’t remember her, but Daddy says she has the mind of a peanut. That’s what you have, S’mara. The mind of a peanut.” His hand brushed across the floor in a seemingly absent gesture.

Dean lifted his hand, and the blade caught the light and gleamed. In seconds, Samara slipped on the crayon Baylee had rolled under her foot and flew backwards. Dean’s hand slashed downwards and, in an instant, there was a head rolling on the floor. Sam lifted his gun and shot the head and its accompanying corpse.

As all four men watched, Samara’s body disintegrated until all that was left was a pile of dirty rags, a banana peel, and a red crayon.

“Is that it?” Brian stared, a little dumbfounded, at what he’d just witnessed. “Is she, or the spirit or whatever, gone?”

Dean nudged the rags with the toe of his boot. “Yeah, she’s gone.”

“I did good, right?” Baylee bounced in place. “I helped just the way I was supposed to, right?”

Sam grinned and held up a hand. “You did way good. You’re the bravest kid I’ve met.”

Baylee slapped Sam’s hand and grinned at the three adults. “There’s no more monster! You guys made the monster leave! You’re the bestest! I love you, guys!”

And then, in a move Sam and Dean least expected, they each found themselves with an armful of four year old. They exchanged baffled glances as each patted Baylee. When he stood next to Brian, grinning again, Sam and Dean looked up at Brian. His smile was brilliant, too, and there were tears glistening in his eyes.

Uncomfortable for the first time in a while when confronted with gratitude, they simply shrugged. “You’re welcome,” Sam finally said.


Note from me: Okay, I admit, it wasn't as amazing a way to kill off the monster as I'd originally planned, but I hope it's not too shabby. There's one more chapter, so hang on!