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"Dean? Dean, where are you?"
Dean ignores her voice, though he knows better by now than to think she'll give up and go away. He keeps his eyes on Sammy.
"Dean?" The door opens, and Dean hunches a little lower, doesn't look around. He hears a sigh, and the sound of footsteps approaching, and then Mrs Guenther's voice, too bright and false and cheerful. "There you are, Dean. I should've known. Why don't you come with me, I could use your help. And Sammy's fine, see? C'mon, now, let's leave him to sleep in peace."
Her hand touches his hair, and Dean ducks away, breathing faster.
"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry." Mrs Guenther sighs again, her voice less fake for a moment before it brightens again. "C'mon, now, come downstairs with me. I want you to go tell your Daddy and Mike that it's time for dinner. Okay, Dean?"
Dean doesn't want dinner, doesn't want to leave Sammy alone, but he's learned over the past few weeks that Mrs Guenther won't give up. He doesn't know why, but every time he's been sitting with Sammy for a while, she finds some excuse to make him leave him and do something else. He hates it.
He hasn't seen her eyes change colour yet, but he's watching her.
Dean shies away from her outstretched hand and moves slowly towards the door, waiting for her to go through first, because he's not leaving her alone with Sammy. He leaves the door open behind them a little bit - he should be able to hear Sammy if he cries, and because it's a squeaky door, he should be able to hear if anyone goes into the room. It's not enough, but it's the best he can do.
"Good boy," Mrs Guenther says, starting down the stairs. "C'mon, now. Your daddy and Mike are out back. You go fetch them, Dean, okay? And then come straight back to the kitchen, your dinner's all ready. On you go, now."
Dean does what he's told: he doesn't have much choice.
It's not until he reaches the back door that he smells it. It's faint, but he knows it immediately, feels it carry him back to then, and has to clutch at his own arms for support. The temptation to run away, up to find Sammy, carry him away from the danger, is strong, but instead Dean makes himself reach out and slowly open the door, peering round it.
The smell gets much stronger, and Dean has to hold on tight to the side of the door. His daddy is sitting on the porch outside, and there's smoke billowing around him.
Dean must make some noise without realising it, because Daddy looks up sharply, right at him. "Dean -"
He can't, he can't, he can't can't can't -
And then he's running, as fast as he can, stumbling as he races up the stairs and having to use his hands to push himself upright and keep moving. He can hear voices calling and shouting, but he can't make out the words, can't make out anything but the need to get to Sammy.
Sammy's still sleeping when he bursts into the room, and Dean rushes over to the crib. He doesn't want to wake Sammy up, but he's got to get him out of there, got to get him away -
Arms close around him, trapping him, and Dean fights, struggling as hard as he can, screaming at the top of his voice. It's only slowly that he becomes aware that he's not making a sound except for his choked, gasping breaths, and that someone is saying his name over and over. "Dean. Dean, calm down. Dean, I got you -"
Daddy.
Dean goes limp, collapsing back against Daddy's chest, but keeping his eyes on Sammy, who's still sleeping. Daddy's arms tighten around him more, but it's a hug now, not a trap.
"Easy, it's okay, Dean," Daddy is saying. "It's okay. There's no fire, I promise. Everything's okay. It was a cigarette, Dean. Mike was smoking one of his damn cigarettes out on the porch. Kate can't stand the smell either, makes him take them outside. There's no fire. You're okay."
Dean breathes and tries to figure out what's going on. No fire?
"Easy, now," Daddy says again, and goes quiet, just holding him. Dean lets him, and wishes Mommy was here. He knows Daddy wants to look after him and Sammy. But Daddy doesn't know the things Mommy did, doesn't know about the people with the scary eyes, or the special words, or the funny signs. He feels loved when Daddy hugs him, but he doesn't feel safe.
Finally, Daddy sighs and says, "You hungry?"
Dean shakes his head mutely.
"Yeah, me neither," Daddy admits. "But we've got to eat. How about I go downstairs and fetch us something and we eat up here with Sammy? Would you like that?"
Dean nods, and Daddy lets him go. "Okay, then you keep an eye on Sammy, and I'll be right back."
Dean hears Daddy's footsteps going down the stairs, then Mrs Guenther's voice speaking to him. Sammy lets out a little gurgle, his eyes blinking open, and Dean steps right up to the crib, reaching through the bars to give Sammy his finger.
He can still hear voices downstairs, even when he's focusing on Sammy.
"The poor little mite," Mrs Guenther is saying. "We should get smoke alarms fitted, Mike. Maybe that would make him feel safer."
"For the -" Daddy sounds angry. "It's not just about the fire, Kate, it's - you know what, forget it. Get smoke alarms, it's a good idea. I've got to get back to my boys."
Dean hears his daddy's footsteps coming back up the stairs, but he doesn't turn when Daddy comes back into the room.
"Here we go," Daddy says. His voice is cheerful, but it's the same kind of fake-cheerful that Mrs Guenther's always is, and Dean hates it. "C'mon over to the bed, Dean, and we'll eat."
Dean doesn't really feel like eating, but he lets Daddy help him up onto the bed, and then pushes spaghetti-os around for a while on his plate. He half-expects Daddy to tell him off, but Daddy doesn't seem too keen on eating either. Eventually Daddy sighs and puts down his plate, and Dean puts his down on the bed too.
"You know," Daddy says, and his voice has lost the fake cheerfulness now. He just sounds tired and sad. "Dean... I think you need to know the truth. Come here."
Dean climbs obediently up onto Daddy's knees and lets him hug him. It might not make him feel safe, but it's still nice, having Daddy this close.
"You don't need to be scared of fires and smoke," Daddy says slowly. "It's no wonder you are, after what happened, but... it wasn't a fire that - that took your mommy away."
Dean knows that. The fire came after, and it scares him because it takes him back there, but he knows it wasn't the fire that hurt Mommy.
"Someone or... something... did it," Daddy goes on. "I don't know what, not yet, but I'm going to find out. I promise you. And then I'm going to make sure it can never hurt you or Sammy or anyone again. Okay? So you don't need to be scared, Dean."
Dean looks up. Sure, he knows that it wasn't the fire that took Mommy away, but this is the first time he's realised Daddy knows that, too. And Daddy sounds like he means it. Maybe... maybe Daddy will find out the things Mommy knew. Maybe he'll learn how to keep them safe.
Maybe he'll even find a way to stop the man with the yellow eyes if he comes back.
"Okay," Daddy says, and ruffles his hair. "Why don't you get ready for bed, kiddo."
It doesn't take Dean long, and he crawls into his bed and lets Daddy tuck him in.
"Sleep tight," Daddy says, and closes the door as he leaves.
When he hears Daddy's footsteps reach the bottom of the stairs, Dean slips out of bed and climbs in beside Sammy. There's not much space and he's cold without his blanket, but he wraps his arms about his brother and keeps his eyes open for as long as he can.
Maybe Daddy will learn how to keep them safe. But for now, Dean's going to keep watch.