Once upon a Time…
By Simarillion

Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: none (Weechester)
Rating: R
Beta: Sulfuric Fusion
Word Count: 7,841
Warning: angst, gore, language, violence, canibalism, shapeshifting, fairy tales
Summary: A Halloween pageant at an elementary school is cursed and the kids are forced to start acting out fairy tales.
Disclaimer: None of the characters of the Supernatural show are mine. They all belong to The CW network and Eric Kripke. I make no money with any of this.

Author’s Note: I read the prompts of spn_halloween and stumbled over this one. Honestly, I am such a fairy tale whore that I just couldn’t let this chance pass by.
So, there’s gonna be violence, gore and even some cannibalism, cause this is what the original fairytales were all about before the brothers Grimm got their hands on them and turned them into stories suitable for the bourgeoisie. I won’t get started on what Disney did after that.

[Part 1] [Part 2]

... there was a little boy...

It all starts with the street lights giving out. At first there is confused silence but then the girls start whimpering and screaming. They always do stuff like that. Sam can’t understand why girls have to be so, so, girly.

When the light goes out, he’s walking rather in the middle of the pageant. He ,Tim, some kid from the neighbor class, and Mike are pulling the cart with the big pumpkin jack-o lantern. All four of them let go of the cart and turn to search for an adult. His dad has taught him that it’s important to know where the responsible adult is.

It’s too dark to see anything and Sam climbs on top of the pumpkin to get the candles from inside. The top is hot and it takes some time before he can open it. All this time he hears the heavy stomp of people running frantically and shouting, letting out the occasional scared wail.

“Sam!” Tim’s voice is rather shaky and Sam doesn’t think him to be a coward because of that. He’s scared as well.

“Just wait a second Tim, I’m going to get the candles from the pumpkin.”

He carefully reaches in and grabs the first candle. The inside of the pumpkin is incredibly hot and the heat hurts something awful. Sam turns to his friend, who’s climbing up on the cart as well, and hands him the light.

“This one’s for you, I’m going to get a second one.”

Once more he reaches inside for a candle. It seems like the air inside the pumpkin is even hotter now. Quickly, he grabs the first stick he can reach and promptly spills hot wax over his hand.

“Ow!” He pulls his hand out, holding tightly onto his candle. “This stuff hurts like hell.”

The skin where the wax has spilled is red and there are small blisters starting to form. Within a minute, the wax gets hard and breaks from his hand in milky flakes.

“What now?” Sam holds his candle up and looks around for a familiar face, but there are only the panicked visages of people he doesn’t recognize. Adults, kids, all mixed together rushing around without any real goal or purpose.

“I think we ought to get out of the center, it’ll be easier to find someone from the side. And then we’re gonna start searching for our parents.”

The plan is good and so they climb down from the big pumpkin lantern and make their way through the crowd of people. Nobody pays attention to anybody except himself, and so they get shoved and bumped into.

Sam hears a surprised shout behind him and suddenly, when he turns back, he finds Tim gone. Another person runs into him, some grown up, and almost knocks him over. The candle gets knocked out of his hand though, and Sam tries to get to his light source. Just when he’s about to pick it up, somebody bumps into him and he trips over.

He does not fall far, but the concrete is rough on his palms and knees where they collided with the ground. Sam sits up and rubs his knees. It hurts and his hands hurt even more, but it’s just a flesh wound.

When he turns his palms around he finds the scratches. There’s a little bit of blood and a lot of dirt. He knows that you are not supposed to get dirt into a wound, his brother told him that, but Sam’s got nothing he can use to clean his hand with.

The stinging makes his eyes well up and Sam rubs his cheeks and eyes with his arms. He’s not supposed to cry. Dean says that girls cry all the time but boys don’t cry. Sam doesn’t really understand why boys aren’t supposed to cry, but he believes his brother and tries his best to do as he says.

The candle has been crushed and now he has no light at all. Slowly, he climbs to his feet and tries to move into the direction he’s been heading before. The edge of the crowd is somewhere in this direction, and he wants to get out of the mindless squirming mass.

It’s hard to see where to go, but after a couple of seconds his eyes begin to adjust to the darkness and he can make out shapes and blurry images.

Suddenly, he hears a strange noise somewhere off to his left side. It sounds like someone or something sniffing the air, nails clicking on the pavement. For some reason he can’t describe, he feels scared, even more than before.

He wishes there was some shelter or place to hide in but there is only the street and random people, and stuff he can’t see. Things like the one making those noises.

Sam looks around but there’s nothing. He tries real hard to peer into the darkness where the sounds are coming from. Nothing. Scared, he wishes his father or at least his brother would be here, but he knows his dad has to work and his brother is collecting candy with his friends. Sam’s supposed to meet up with his older brother at the end of the pageant.

The noise grows softer and then it’s gone, but the lack of weird noises doesn’t reassure him. He knows that evil things lurk in the dark and that just because you can’t see or hear them doesn’t mean they’re not there.

Careful to keep quiet, Sam once more tries to reach the edge of the crowd. This time he makes it and he stops to catch his breath. From the outside, the only thing that can be seen are dark shapes moving in different directions. There are calls and shouts, people calling out to each other, and every so often, he can make out screams or wails.

He decides to walk into the direction the pageant had been heading because he knows that at the end there’s his brother and that means that he’s safe there. His dad’s told him many times: Stay with Dean and nothing will happen to you.

Dean, his older brother, is really old. He’s already in fifth grade and will start in junior high school after that. Sam likes staying with his older brother because Dean always teaches him funny things and tells him stories about the older kids, and school, and how stupid girls are.

Sam notices that the darkness is getting brighter. It’s strange but the night is not as dark anymore. It’s getting colder and clammier too. He looks around and sees the fog creep through the legs of the people and over the ground, slowly rising and making it even harder to see.

It’s odd that even though the night is not as dark anymore, it’s harder to make anything out.

He decides to stay close to the crowd and follow it back to the gates of the school. Once he gets there he’ll be safe. His hands hurt and his knee burns as well. With every step the jeans rub over his irritated skin and it hurts a little more.

The fog gets thicker and soon he has trouble seeing anything at all. The air is ice cold and heavy with the grey thickness, the moisture seeping into his clothes. Sam tries to walk faster, but every so often he has to stop to look for some kind of marker that might tell him if he’s on the right way or not.

A loud scream comes from somewhere behind him. This time it does not sound like a girl screaming because she’s scared; but rather sounds like someone in pain. A lot of pain. The screaming is accompanied by growling and snarling.

He doesn’t know what is going on back there but he doesn’t intend to find out. As he hurries on, he stubs his toe on something and trips over. This time he can’t keep silent as his already abused palms scrape over the pavement.

He’s tried to keep from crying so hard but this time he just can’t stop the tears from running down his face. The scrapes and cuts just hurt so much.

Sam curls up and cries. He’s scared and he wants his brother to come and get him. Dean can protect him, Sam knows that for sure. Dean has always protected him in the past. He wishes his brother was here already and would get him away from this place.

“Sammy?” Dean! It’s his older brother’s voice. His brother’s found him.

“Dean, I’m over here!” An odd screech from above has him whimper with surprise. Something is out there watching him. He can feel it.

There is the sound of footsteps and a shape can be seen looming in the thick grey fog. The person comes closer and slowly he can make out the face of his older brother. It’s Dean. It’s really him. His brother runs over to him once he’s spotted Sam and kneels down next to him.

“Are you alright, Sammy?” Dean takes his hands and turns them up so he can take a look at the bruised palms. The pressure hurts but Sam doesn’t want to look weaker than he already does and bites down on his lower lip to keep from wincing. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“No,” he lies but there’s not a lot of conviction in his voice. He knows that his brother can hear the tears and the fear he feels in Sam’s tone.

“What happened?” Dean scans their surroundings but the fog is as thick as ever. Still, nothing much to see. His older brother wears a black costume with a white skeleton sewn on it. It’s actually not really scary. Not even nearly as scary as the stuff going on around them.

“I don’t know. The street lights went out and suddenly everyone was screaming and shouting and running around. Me and Tim tried to get out of the crowd but we got separated.” Sam can already feel his courage return, just from his brother’s presence alone.

“Well, we better get away from this place and wait for dad at home. He’ll know what to do.” Dean gets up from his crouch and holds out a hand to him. “Give me your hand.”

Dean’s hand is cold and sweaty and Sam’s fingers can’t get a good enough grip on his older brother’s hand. Still he holds onto it with all his might. It’s important not to loose Dean like he did Tim.

“Come on, we’ll go into the direction I came from.” Sam follows his older brother obediently and they trudge through the mist and the fog, never seeing anything, only hearing odd noises and the racket of the crowd.

The further they leave the crowd behind, the denser the fog gets and soon Sam can’t even see his older brother walking in front of him. If it weren’t for their hands holding onto each other, he would have believed himself to be alone.

Sam wonders what happened to Tim and if he’s alright. Maybe his friend found his parents and they’re already on their way home. The thoughts of returning back to the motel has him speed his steps up but he trips over something on the ground – again.

Panic floods him as he once more hits already sore spots upon falling. He lost the hold he’d had on Dean’s hand. He’s lost his big brother.

Tears well up in his eyes and this time he can’t hold them back. How’s he supposed to find his way home now? He rubs furiously over his eyes and wipes his nose with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Sammy?” Dean’s voice sounds far away but Sam can hear the worry and panic in it.

“Dean!” The croak that leaves his throat sounds more like a frog trying to speak than himself but the tears and the fear are making his voice hoarse and croaky. “Dean!”

He can’t see a thing and the dense fog swallows every sound. Slowly Sam climbs onto his feet again and he hugs himself. Not a trace of his brother, he can’t even hear Dean calling his name anymore. Sam wonders if he should walk in the direction he suspects Dean to be or if he should wait.

In the end a shiver running down his back makes the decision for him. Something’s out there and he feels vulnerable just standing here and waiting for it to come upon him. Cautiously he starts walking towards the direction his older brother disappeared.

It sometimes seems like the grey mist clings to his clothes and swirls sluggishly around his feet with every step he takes. Sam listens carefully for any indication of where Dean might be, and he listens for the threat he knows hidden somewhere in the fog.

How long he’s been walking he’s unsure of, but after some time the fog recedes somewhat, and Sam can make out grass under his feet. When he recognizes a shape in front of him, his steps falter. He doesn’t get the anxious feeling he usually gets with evil things and so Sam decides it’s safe to approach the figure.

Upon getting closer the shape slowly gets more clearly defined and it turns out not to be a person, but a tree. The naked twigs create the image of a skeleton tree. It frightens Sam a little bit.

When he stops in front of the scary tree, Sam looks up and watches the fingerlike twigs tear at the fog. It reminds him of a dream he had not too long ago – long twig-like fingers, like the hand of a skeleton. His dad had woken him up from that nightmare, and Sam can remember Dean being there too.

But this time his dad isn’t around and he isn’t dreaming either. It’s all real and it’s scarier than anything he’s ever seen while being asleep.

The scratches and scrapes on his knees, palms, and elbows are burning. Sam wants to sit down but he’s afraid that getting up again might hurt even worse. So he just stands there, in front of the skeleton tree, and looks around for any other lead that might suggest where he is and what direction home is.

There’s only the grey-black mix of night and mist, and nothing else.

Sam takes one last look up at the tree, and then he walks on into the direction he’s been heading before. His steps are cautious but he keeps on walking. He won’t let anything frighten him, and keep him from getting back to the motel, and to safety.

As he continues on, he scans the grayish soup surrounding him. Every time the fog swirls, his heart speeds up. Sam suspects someone, something, lurking, hidden by the mist, and waiting to jump him. But nothing happens and even though the fogs gets less and thins out, the darkness of the night renders him almost as blind as the fog does.

He stops in surprise when he hears the sound of crying to his left. Sam thinks about ignoring the noise, but in the end his curiosity, as well as the urge to help, gets the better of him. Cautiously, Sam sneaks closer to the source of the crying.

It’s most likely a girl that got lost in the fog. (Sam really doesn’t like girls very much. Last week Betty Hopkins had been telling her girlfriends that once she’s all grown up, she’ll have a pony, and three cats. Sam had wanted to tell her that no one in their right mind would give her anything living to take care of. Betty Hopkins killed the cactus that they’d been supposed to take care of for their class project.)

Once Sam gets closer to the crying person, he calls out to the stranger.

“Hello?” The crying stops. “Hello? Is anybody here?”

The silence makes him nervous. What if it was a trap and his calls are guiding something dangerous towards him?

“Hello?” The call surprises him to such an extent that Sam almost takes off. But it’s the frightened and despairing quality of the voice that keeps him here.

“I’m Sam. Where are you? Are you hurt?” The last question has his wounds throbbing hotly.

“I’m Stephanie.” So it’s a girl after all.

Sam walks into the direction the voice had been coming from. The further he closes in, the better he can make out the shape of a small person sitting on the ground. The hunch of the shape makes it seem like the person sitting there is hurt. This has Sam’s heart beating faster. He needs his older brother. Dean can take care of wounds; Sam doesn’t know the first thing about first aid.

Stephanie is looking in Sam’s direction when he reaches her. There are deep gashes on her left cheek, and they look like scratches made by claws or long fingernails. There’s blood smeared all over her face and here eyes are watery and glassy from the crying.

“What happened to you?” Upon a closer look, Sam can see that the girl’s eyes are scratched as well, rendering her blind.

“I can’t see you.” Once more the girl, Stephanie, starts crying, tears dripping with the pinkish tinge of watered-down blood down her cheeks. “My eyes and my face hurt.”

Never before has he seen something like this. True, their dad has pictures and stuff of really scary things, but this is the first time that Sam sees wounds like this. And it’s the first time that he has to deal with someone helpless and wounded all on his own. Sam doesn’t know what to do.

“How did you hurt your face?” He kneels down next to her and tentatively reaches out to her arm. He wants to reassure her that he’s still around, but he’s afraid of hurting her. She looks so bruised and frail. “Did someone attack you?”

“I want to go home.” The panic that had been in her voice before is gone now. “I want my mom and dad.”

Sam wants his brother, he wants Dean. But neither of them will get what they want. There’s nothing they can do about that.

“I’m going to help you, but first we’ve got to find out what is going on.” Sam sits down and takes a look around. There’s not much to see, only darkness, and the last traces of fog. To one side he can make out some patterns in the darkness, but it’s not possible to recognize anything in particular.

The sudden touch on his arm has Sam flinch with surprise. He looks over at his newfound friend. Stephanie’s face is scrunched up and tears are wetting her cheeks. Together with the half-dried blood, it makes her look like something from a nightmare.

“What’s wrong?” Sam can see that the girl feels uncomfortable, but he just doesn’t know what to do about it. “Does your face hurt a lot?”

This time she answers only with a nod.

“How did you scratch your face?” Sam really, really wants to know if there’s something out here that attacked Stephanie, something that he should be aware of.

“The thorns scratched it. I fell and the thorns cut into my face.” The memory of the accident has the girl cry harder and Sam realizes that even though he doesn’t know what to do with a wounded person, he knows even less about how to deal with a crying girl.

“Don’t cry, once we find my older brother he’ll know how to get you to your parents and they’ll take you to hospital. Nothing to worry about.” Except Sam’s not really sure how the girl’s going to get her eyesight back. The scratches in and around her eyes are the worst of them all. There’s no way though he’s going to tell her that.

One last look around, and then Sam gets back on his feet. The burning pain of his knees makes him hiss but he tries not to let on that he’s hurt. Compared to the girl, his scrapes and scratches are not worth mentioning.

“Okay, we should try to find my big brother.” Sam takes hold of Stephanie’s hand and tugs at it. “Come on, I’ll help you get up.”

It takes some more sobbing from the girl before she’s up and clinging to him. Only the current circumstances have him allow the girl to get so touchy. Usually he doesn’t like girls to get that close to him. They are stupid and annoying. As things are though, the two of them ought to stick together.

Since he doesn’t know what direction is then right one, Sam decides that it might be a good idea to head in the direction that he’d been walking before – whatever direction that is.

There are no sounds besides the ones they’re making themselves, and even though there are shapes and forms in the dark, nothing can be made out clearly. Sam tightens the grip he has on the girl and leads on, hoping and wishing that they’ll come across someone. Someone grown-up, or, better even, Dean.

He’s not quite sure for how long they’ve been walking, but there’s suddenly a door in front of them, like it’s sprung out of the ground. One second there’s nothing Sam can make out and the other, they’re standing right in front of this door.

It’s not only a door, of course, there’s a wall too. The wall’s got this really weird color, a brown that you normally only see with bread.

“Why have we stopped?” Stephanie’s question shakes Sam out of his surprise.

“There’s a door.” And that’s the only thing he says, because the building he arrived in front of makes him wary. It’s just a feeling, but if there’s one thing he’s learned from his dad, then it’s this: always trust your instincts, and if something feels off, keep away.

“Maybe we should knock and see if anyone’s there? Maybe someone who can help us?” Maybe, but Sam is not so sure. One look at his companion’s face, the torn skin and the scratched eyes, though, and Sam decides to give it a try.

The door feels odd and when Sam scrapes at it, parts can be torn down. He takes a closer look at the pieces of the door he’s holding, and he realizes that the building’s made of bread.

“Nibble, nibble, like a mouse, who is nibbling at my house?” The voice sounds scratchy and though the person tries to make the question sound inviting and kind, Sam can feel ice-cold shivers run down his back.

“I know this one,” Stephanie murmurs softly. She’s pressed against his side and holding on to him. “It’s from Hansel and Gretel.”

Sam knows that it is a fairytale, but he’s never heard it. “So what happens in the story?”

“A brother and a sister get lost in a forest and they arrive in front of a gingerbread house. When they start eating the house, someone calls from the inside and they answer, ‘Never mind, it is the wind.’ The person inside is a witch, who wants to eat them.”

Sam’s not sure if the person inside the house is really a witch, like in the fairy tale, but he’s got no intentions of finding it out. Slowly he steps back from the door, guiding the girl at his side around the corner.

“I think we better stay away from the house.” His decision is confirmed when they hear the sound of crying from inside the bread hut. The words are not distinct, but the voice sounds distressed and very scared.

The next thing Sam hears makes him change his mind though. The walls distort the words, but there’s no mistaking the voice he can hear. It’s Dean. His brother is inside the witch’s house.

“Stephanie, I can hear my brother’s voice inside the house. I have to check if he’s alright.” Slowly he helps her sit down. “Stay here and don’t move, and don’t talk to anyone. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

“No, please stay!” It surprises him how strong a girl can be when she’s scared. Her fingers will definitely leave bruises behind. “Please, don’t leave me behind.”

“I won’t leave you behind, but I can’t take you with me. I just need to check if it’s Dean who’s inside and if he needs help. I promise to be back quickly.”

The tears that are gathering in the torn eyes make it almost impossible for Sam to make her stay behind. But in the end he decides that he won’t be able to sneak around the witch’s lair with her clinging to his arm.

“I promise, nothing will happen to you.” As an afterthought he hugs her and then he sneaks to the back of the bread house, looking for a side or a back door.

The brown wall smells deliciously of freshly baked bread, and Sam can hear his stomach growl. His face heats up with a blush. It’s stupid to feel embarrassed when there’s no-one around to hear his stomach growling, but Sam can’t help blushing anyway.

Once he reaches the back of the house, he cautiously checks if everything’s safe, and then he sneaks up to the back door. It’s made from bread as well, just like the rest of the building, but there’s a small window.

Sam waits a couple of seconds to be sure that he’s alone, nobody but him sneaking around, and then he carefully unlocks the door. It’s something he’s rather proud of. Nobody, not even their Dad is as good at lock-picking as Sam.

The interior of the bread house is semi-dark and there’s the smell of fresh bakery goods and cooking everywhere. He silently walks deeper into the building, looking for his brother, as well as keeping watch for the witch.

There are actually no rooms in the house; the whole building is one huge room that’s stuffed full of things. A large, sturdy table is covered in heaps of dishes, books, random things, and loads of dust. The flickering light of the fire in the fire place in the front of the house reveals niches and shelves along the side.

Halfway through the house, Sam can hear shuffling footsteps approaching him, and he crawls under the laden table to hide from what he suspects to be the owner of the hut – the witch.

His heart beats so hard that he can feel it in his throat. Not for the first time tonight he wishes his brother was here to tell him what to do. Dean always knows the right thing to say or do. But if Sam heard right, he’ll find his Dean here, and once he’s freed his older brother, they can, together with the girl, get away from the witch, and find their way back home.

It surprises him somewhat to find the floor to be made of stone – and it’s a rather dirty stone floor at that. Sam had half expected it to be bread as well.

Carefully, he hides behind an upturned cauldron, watching the witch approach. She stops before she gets to him though, and she holds out a lantern, shedding light on two cages that are squeezed in between a large shelf and an even larger cupboard.

Sam has to fight down the urge to call his brother’s name when he sees the battered form of Dean lying on the floor of one cage. From the distance and because of the bad lightning he can’t see how badly his brother’s injured.

“I have something for you. Some food and some water, to strengthen you, and fatten you up. There’s not enough meat on your bones.” The old crone sets a plate down in front of the cage, and a jug is put next to it. “Go on, eat, drink.”

The witch looks exactly like Sam imagined her to look like. Her dress is brown and beige, a dirty apron around her waist, decorated with stains of a rusty brown color. Her grey hair is unkempt and sticks out under the scarf she’s wearing. He’s sure that if the old woman would turn around, she’d have a hook-like nose, and warts on her face.

“That’s right, you must be thirsty, shouting for your brother like you’ve been.” Sam feels something like dread curling in his tummy as he watches Dean hold the jug with his two hands, drinking thirstily and greedily from it. Some water trickles down his throat.

“There, there, what a good boy.” The laughter that follows has Sam covering his ears and he watches in horror as his brother drop the jug and convulses, holding his stomach like he’s in pain. “That’s a good boy.”

Dean groans in pain and his whole body trembles. Sam can see it even from his hideout behind the cauldron. There are shivers wracking his bigger brother’s body. And then Dean starts to shift. His limbs and his body start to change shape and Sam thinks he can see Dean’s skin change color.

It takes some time, but in the end, there is a shape buried under Dean’s clothes. The body, which moves jerkily under the layer of cloths, is much smaller and frailer than Dean, and Sam wonders what happened, what the witch transformed his brother into.

“Now, now, that’s just the start, little one.” The witch reaches into the cage, and Sam almost rushes out to hurl himself against the old woman. He wants to protect his brother from what the evil woman is about to do.

His plan is stopped though, when he sees his brother for the first time since the change. As the clothes are lifted out of the cage, a thin reddish-brown body is revealed. The back, or at least, what Sam thinks it is the back, is covered in small white spots, and Sam can’t help but think that for the first time, Dean’s freckles are lighter than Dean’s skin.

But then again, his brother’s got no skin anymore. Instead the light of the lantern reveals that Dean’s whole body is covered with hair. Lots of hair.

The thing moves, raises its head, and Sam looks into the big hazel eyes of a fawn.

This time when the witch laughs, Sam is too shocked by what he sees to cover his ears. He realizes that the old crone leaves, the cage disappears again into darkness, but it takes him some seconds to get a grip and crawl out from his hideout. After a short check to see if it is safe to surface, he cautiously sneaks over to the cage and its occupant.

In the dark, it’s hard to make anything out, but Sam can see something move.

“Dean?” His voice is soft, and, he has to admit, scared.

Once more something moves in the shadows and then a small black nose nuzzles against his hand. Sam can feel tears gathering in his eyes. It’s not fair that he only finds Dean, to be alone again.

“Dean, I’ll get you out, and then we’ll have to get out of here. I don’t know how long the witch will be gone.” His words are shaky and weak, but Sam refuses to leave his brother behind.

In no time at all has he unlocked the door to the cage, and he watches carefully as his brother takes his first wobbly steps on his long and frail legs. Once Dean is out of his prison, Sam closes the door softly and together they sneak to the back of the house.

The way to the back door takes longer than the way into the house, because Dean has some difficulties with his strange legs. More than once, Sam has to catch him before he topples over. It’s strange to be able to lift his older brother that easily. Dean barely weighs more than a loaf of bread.

Sam can’t help but take a deep breath once they are outside the witch’s house. He wraps his arms around Dean and carries him back to where he left Stephanie. He hopes that nothing happened to the girl while he was gone.

Dean rubs his head against Sam’s cheek and when Sam tightens his hold on him, he cries softly into Sam’s ear, the wet nose brushing the shell of it. The touch tickles, and Sam fights hard not to laugh. Even though Dean is not himself, he still manages to cheer him up.

Stephanie sits exactly where he’s left her. At the sound of his steps, her face turns towards him, the torn cheeks grimacing; with what Sam thinks must be fear.

“It’s me, Stephanie. It’s Sam.” He crouches down next to her, letting his brother go.

Dean shakes himself and jumps around a little, his frail looking sticklike legs catapulting him up. Once he has calmed down a little, Dean slowly stalks over to Sam and the girl. He carefully sniffs at Stephanie’s face, making the girl giggle.

“What’s that, Sam?” She tries to get a hold of whatever tickles her face, but Dean jumps away, amused by the game of tag.

“It’s my brother, Dean. The witch has turned him into a fawn.” He watches his brother nudge Stephanie’s hand, letting her pet him. The act of stroking over Dean’s soft fur seems to calm the girl further, and she tries to smile for the first time since Sam found her.

Anxious of what might happen once the witch finds out that her captive’s gone missing, Sam decides that it’s high time that they get away from the house. Now that Dean’s with him again, and that the fog’s gone, he feels better about finding his way home.

“We better get away from the house.” He reaches out to the girl, who has her hands wrapped around Dean’s small body, and helps her to her feet. His brother jumps around them, obviously enjoying being able to walk on his own. “Come on, Dean.”

Sam leads the way, guiding Stephanie by her hand, while his brother trots after them, every so often jumping around and butting his head against Sam’s side. Dean stops from time to time to scent the air or listen into the dark, like he’s looking out for things lurking out of their sight.

It’s actually kind of funny to watch Dean trying to play the big protector, when he’s clearly the smallest of them. Only Stephanie, with her scratched eyes, is more vulnerable than his older brother.

The excitement of breaking his brother out of the witch’s lair slowly dissipates, and Sam goes back to being nervous and scared. He knows that he’s the only one able to protect the three of them, and he can’t help but think that the situation is way too much for him.

Fog starts to crawl over the ground towards them again, but it stays to the ground. In front of them Sam thinks he can make out shapes of trees, and the closer they get, the more it becomes obvious that they are heading towards a forest.

“Hey, stop it Dean.” Sam glares at his brother, who headbutts against his leg only to skip ahead. His brother enjoys this too much for Sam’s taste.

“How far do you think we have to go?” Stephanie’s voice is not as scared as it used to be, but her anxiousness can still be heard.

“I don’t know, but I hope that we’ll find someone else who can help us.” There have to be others out there beside them, for sure. Sam hopes that he’ll find Tim again, but he fears what might have happened to his friend. “The most important thing is that we stay together, and that we continue on in one direction.”

“Okay.” She presses a little closer to him, and Sam can feel her sweaty palms in his. It’s from the nervousness and the fear, but it’s still kind of gross. He doesn’t like wet hands.

A rustling ahead has him look in the direction of the sound. At first he thinks that someone’s hiding, but then Dean breaks out of some bushes and bounds up to them. He slows down once he reaches Sam and the girl, and then he actually walks slowly next to them.

His large ears flicker, and he stares into the dark tangle of trees ahead.

“What? Did you find anything?” Dean sneezes and shakes his head, but he stays close to his two human companions, pressing his body against Sam.

The strange behavior makes Sam wary and he tightens his grip on Stephanie’s hand, ignoring her sweaty palms, and pays close attention to the dark trees ahead. The closer they get, the more he grow nervous. But nothing happens, and so they enter the forest, which looks even scarier up close.

There’s a small path that leads into the trees. Sam doesn’t like walking on it. It feels like they’re being led straight into a trap. The thing is, though, that he doesn’t feel safer any safer walking off the road. The fog and the dark shadows and shapes scare him.

It shouldn’t be possible, but the darkness all around them condenses, and maybe even grows a shade or three darker. There are noises all around them, and by this time, everyone's so on edge that the screeching of an owl makes him cry out in surprise, Stephanie’s fused herself to his side, and Dean’s constantly walking in front of Sam, as if he was trying to protect from any attackers.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.” Sam knows that his voice says something different. He’s scared, and very much so. He wishes that Dean was his normal size and shape, and he wishes their father was back from his hunt.

Another screech is followed by the sound of something, or someone, rushing through the underbrush. A dry twig snaps under the weight of a body, alarming Sam of a possible danger lurking close to them.

“What was that?” The girl’s voice is scared again, and there are definitely tears close to the surface. “Sam?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe it was nothing at all.” Sam doesn’t like lying. He has to, because of the way his dad, Dean and him are living, because of the work their father is doing, but when he doesn’t have to, he avoids telling lies. So, when he tells Stephanie that there might not be anything dangerous close by, it’s not strictly a lie. He just doesn’t know that there is.

Dean is getting more and more anxious and his ears are flicking this way and that way, searching for any threat. He butts his head against Sam, but then he goes back to checking the perimeter again. The restlessness has his older brother slow his gait down, and checking everything around them.

“Let’s hurry up a little bit.” The sooner they get out of this strange forest, the better. Sam hurries his steps up. He guides Stephanie along the road with Dean closely following them.

It happens so quickly that Sam almost doesn’t realize what’s happening. One moment they were hurrying down the path through the forest, and the next something jumps out in front of them. At first Sam can only recognize a dark shape on four legs, but when the thing approaches, snarling, he can make out what their attacker is. It’s a huge black wolf.

“Sam?” The frightened voice in his ear distracts him for a second, in which Dean jumps in front of them, squeaking defiantly at their attacker. His brother’s high-pitched battle cry is almost drowned out by the wolf’s growl. Under different situations, Sam would almost call it cute.

Sam feverishly thinks about what to do, how to get them out of this situation, but nothing comes to his mind. The fingers on his arm are digging painfully through his clothes, making him wince.

“Sam, what is going on? What’s making these noises?” Sam is about to answer the girl’s questions, when the large wolf jumps at them. His attack is interrupted by Dean, who topples with all his might against the much larger predator.

A painful cry can be heard, and for a moment Sam thinks Dean is dead. His heart skips a beat and only continues beating, when Dean gets on his legs, placing himself once more between Sam and the wolf.

From his position Sam can see bloody scratches along the fawns shaking side, and anger starts to well up inside of him. How dare the wolf hurt his brother? Sam feels so angry; he thinks he’s going to explode.

“Stay here, I have to help my brother.” He tears the girl’s fingers loose from his arm, ignoring the frightened wail it causes. Enraged, he picks up a stone that lies on the path in front of him and joins Dean’s side.

Up close he can see how bady Dean is wounded. The gashes at his side are rather deep, and blood’s dripping to the ground.

He’s seeing red as he steps past his brother. He’s not afraid anymore; he’s just angry, angrier than he’s ever been before in his whole life.

“Leave us alone!” Tears are stinging in his eyes, but they aren’t tears of pain or fear - they’re tears of rage. He hates the wolf, he hates it for hurting Dean, and he’s going to make him pay for what he did. “Get lost!”

Their attacker crouches low and growls at them. His eyes are shining yellow and his teeth are white and big. Sam sees all that, but he doesn’t care. He raises arm, and throws the stone he picked up with all his might at the wolf.

Sam’s never been too good with precision. His dad always tells him that he’s no good for shooting something, and that he’ll be much better at the hand to hand once they’ll start training at it, but this time his aim is true.

The stone hits the wolf in the middle of his face, making the predator snarl and leap closer to them.

Dean squeaks again, preparing for the next attack, but Sam picks up another stone and steps in front of his brother. He won’t let Dean get any more hurt.

“I said, leave us alone!” Sam growls his words this time, and he stares challengingly into the wolf’s eyes.

His words are answer by another snarl and then the big animal is attacking them again. This time, Sam hits its eye when the wolf leaps at them. The pain makes it yowl loudly and break off to the side. He feels proud about his throw, but knows that they’re still in danger, and so picks up the next stone.

Dean butts his head against Sam and takes wobbly steps into Stephanie’s direction. Both of them keep their eyes on the wolf while retreating to their companion, but the animal is still occupied with its hurting eye.

As they reach the girl, who is crying now, the dark body of their attacker is unfurling, and preparing for its next charge. The wolf’s pitch-black fur bristles with rage, which only serves to increase the height and intimidation of the wolf. Sam puts himself in front of Dean and Stephanie, pushing Dean back with one hand when his brother tries to get in front of him.

There’s no way he’s letting Dean get hurt more than he already is. Sam glances all around him, looking for something he can use for a weapon. Nothing.

Just when he thinks the predator will leap at them, he cocks his head to the side, scents the air and jumps off into the forest. Apparently he’s found something more interesting to hunt.

Sam exhales, relieved, and plops down on the ground. His legs are all wobbly, and his hands are shaking so hard that he can barely rub them against his thighs. Dean rubs himself against Sam and lies down next to him.

“Sam?” The girl’s voice is panicky. Since she can’t see, she must think that he and Dean got killed.

“I’m fine; we’re fine, Stephanie. I’m just catching my breath.” He pets Dean’s small head, glad that his brother is still alive, that the wolf is gone, and, mostly, that they’re all still breathing.

Stephanie slowly walks in their direction, and just as she’s about to run into them, Sam holds out his hand and stops her. “Sit down for a second.”

She tries to gracefully sit down, but in the end she just plops down, very much the way Sam did. This close Sam can see the tears that are glistening on her face. He reaches out to her and hugs her. She’s a girl, but Sam feels sorry for her, and at the moment he feels like he needs the hug as well.

“What happened to your brother?” Sam looks down to see her tracing the edges of Dean’s wounds. Her fingers are shaking as she cautiously maps his brother’s trembling side. “Is he hurt?”

“Yeah, he protected us, and he got hurt doing it.” Sam strokes over Dean’s head and along his large ears. His brother looks up at him with large eyes, and Sam imagines he can see Dean looking at him reassuringly.

The three of them stay like this for some time, until they feel strong enough to continue their trek through the forest, and brave enough to face their next fairy tale encounter. Sam is the first to get up and he first helps Stephanie up and then picks Dean up, to carry him.

His brother feels even lighter than before, and Sam holds on tightly to Dean’s thin frame. With Stephanie hooked in at one side and Dean in his arms, Sam guides them further down the dark path, which weaves its way into the bowels of the forest.

The sound of the hoots and screeches of owls is all around them, but there are no signs of anyone lurking close by. The soft blanket of fog swirls lazily around their feet, as it gets denser with every step they take.

For some time the dark shapes of the trees all around them is the only thing they can see. It’s the hazy shine of light in the distance which announces that something is waiting for them. The size of the light source tells Sam that it’s got to be a house or a hut, since it’s much too big for a lantern.

Dean stares at the light source ahead, his ears flicking to the left and to the right, as if he’s searching for something, or someone.

But nothing happens as they make their way closer and closer to what lies ahead. With every step Sam gets more anxious, but he tries the best he can to hide it from Stephanie and Dean; no need to worry them more than is necessary.