likely_evil | He's got eyes that sing to me... remind me of childhood melodies...

Just for Bobby at the moment... others to join later...

They were in North Dakota according to the map that Alec and Dean had been looking at. There was something in the back of Sam's mind that found the town familiar. Little fireflies in his mind, wanting to guide him again.

Why were there fireflies in his mind? He always saw freflies, no matter where they went.

He had sat in the Impala after Dean and Alec went to bed because he was trying to figure this out when one big firefly came by the window, beckoning him to follow it. So he did, walking along the fields quickly as he tried to catch it.

When he was able to catch them, he remembered things. But the things he remembered with them would always fly away again. Out of his mind and into the wind. Not like the memories that Dean gave him.

He had a few now. Memory of a tape measure. Of a necklace. Small things and they were always of him as a kid. There were no adult memories. And Sam wondered why.

Soon, the firefly led him along the path to a junkyard. Sam could see all the magic here, trendils that wove a web in a white light. He was careful as he walked, not wanting to touch a single strand of it until he got to the door where the firefly had landed.

Sam tilted his head, reaching for the insect and wrapping his fingers around it roughly. Which on the other side of the door would sound like someone had knocked.

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Dean, on the other hand, was panicking. He didn't know where Sam was. That hadn't been a good sign when he was alive, and it certainly wasn't good now that he was a demon. So he and Alec were out looking, heading through the town to see if anyone had seen him -- the kid was a giant, he wasn't exactly hard to miss -- but so far they were coming up empty.

And then his phone started ringing.

Praying that it was his brother, and he hadn't done any damage, if at all. Placing the phone to his ear, he ran a hand over his eyes as he spoke, trying not to jump to conclusions.

"Yeah?"

"You gotta helluva lot explainin' ta do, boy."

Dean blinked slightly at the sound of Bobby's voice, before he sighed with relief, leaning back against the counter of the diner he was standing in. His answer wasn't going to be what Bobby wanted to hear most likely, but it was the first thing that came to Dean's mind.

"Oh, thank God -- you have Sam."

"Yea, Dean. I got Sam. Sam who last I knew was dead. Sam who's now a demon. How long were you gonna go on and not tell me? Are you a damned idjit?"

"Well, how exactly did you expect me to do that, Bobby?" Dean said, sighing heavily as he sat down of the stool. "I'm still kind of dealing with it myself -- what did you expect me to do? Pick up the phone and go 'Hey, Bobby, guess what? Sam's back as a baby demon!'"

Bobby would have called him crazy and said to stop screwing with him. Dean was starting to wonder when the universe was going to do the same.

"Hell I dunno, Dean. You coulda told me somethin'."

"I was going to, as soon as I figured this out," Dean replied. "He just -- he's not himself yet. And I didn't want to spring him on you like this until I figured things out."

Sam, meanwhile, had kept wandreing around and looking at things. He was getting lost in all the books. He didn't remember Bobby having so many before, and when he looked at them with black eyes they all had different colors and some had symbols on them.

He didn't realize he had made his way into the den, walking and looking at the items on the fireplace. A pendant caught his eye, the light calling him towards it. However, the second he touched it he was thrown backwards from the power and landed hard on the ground.

In the center of the devil's trap.

He tried to get out, but he just wasn't able to. Finally he just wrapped his arms around his knees and sat there. Pouting.

Someone would come find him.

Bobby heard a sound in the other room and looked around for Sam. Who wasn't there...

"Just get here, we'll fight it out later." He hung up and went to find Sam.

He stopped in his tracks when he got a look of it. He shook his head and moved over to free Sam.

"C'mon. Yer gonna be okay."

Sam watched as Bobby opened the trap. "The thing on the fireplace. It doesn't like me anymore."

He looked at his palm, then showed it to Bobby. There was a protective charm burned into his skin now.

He reached out to take Sam by the arm and help him to his feet. He suddenly felt like he was talking to young Sammy as he had all those years ago, the times he'd check in on the boys. When John was gone for too long.

"Well..some'a the things in this house don't really know ya anymore. You gotta be careful, y'hear?"

Which would make sense, since the only memories Sam had so far were from him being young. He didn't have any adult memories from Dean yet. There was a barrier there, like he was trying not to show Sam some things.

"I'll be careful, Bobby. Did you... is Dean mad?"

Bobby worked on moving Sam out the front door where they could sit on the porch. "He ain't mad, Sam. He's scared. He didn't know where ya were."

"Oh. I didn't think I was going far."

He followed Bobby, being careful of the salt line again as they got to the porch.

"I don't remember a lot anymore."

Bobby sat and stared off into the yard. "But you remembered how to get here?"

"Sometimes... I see fire flies. They show me paths."

Sam looked out at the darkness. "They showed me here. And to Dean."

Bobby sighed and ran his hand over his face again. He really wasn't sure what to say.

"Why haven't you tried to kill me?"

Sam kept looking out at the road, listening for the Impala.

Bobby looked at Sam for awhile, then shrugged. "Took me a minute, but I saw you."

"Alec smelt me." Sam laughed a bit. "He says I smell like Dean."

Bobby snorted. "Ain't a good thing, Sammy."

"I like it." Sam kept watching the horizon. "Dean is my brother and he takes care of me."

Bobby smiled, just slightly, and nodded. "I'm glad he does."

He's got eyes that sing to me... remind me of childhood melodies...

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