It took an hour, several cups of hot chocolate and a batch of homemade cookies before they were able to get Toby settled down once more. Adding more sugar to his mug, Sam looked from his brother to the distressed brunette sitting next to him, her hand idly stroking Toby's head as the child sat on the floor, his arm wrapped around Dean's leg.

The dull sound of Sarah's mug being placed on the table drew his attention. Her eyes, still glistening with the tears she shed earlier when trying to calm Toby, seemed to darken with determination.

"So, what do we do now? How do you get rid of it?" Her staccato words were more demand than question, sharp and forceful.

"Well, we need to keep you two safe," Sam said, adding another spoonful of sugar to his mug before taking a drink. The bitter coffee burned its way down his throat as he considered how much to tell her. Given her previous experience with the Fae and her ability to 'read' people, he didn't think she needed to be coddled along, in fact, from what he had seen she would probably be offended if he tried to coddle her in anyway. "First we need to ward the house and keep you two safe."

Sarah gave an accepting nod, unflinching as she looked at him. "What all do you need to do?"

Picking a cookie from the plate, Dean marveled at how cool she was about accepting not just the weirdness with the demon clown, but having them around at all.

"The usual sorts of things you've probably read about. Salt the windows and doors. Paint devil's traps and sigils around the rooms. That sort of thing." Dean broke his cookie in half and offered part of it to Toby with an encouraging nod. "C'mon buddy. If you can't have pie, then a cookie will help. And I make the best damn cookies…" Seeing Sam's disapproving look and the amused quirk of Sarah's lips, he grinned. "Well…that is, I make the best cookies this side of the Smokies. You just trust ole' Dean."

"Good thing Karen won't be home until Monday," Sarah mumbled, then gave Dean a grateful smile, as Toby took the offered cookie and nibbled it without a sound. "Thanks for trying. You're the first person he's really responded to since…well, you know."

Shrugging, Dean munched on the other half of his cookie."So when you said your parents weren't available…?"

"They left for the weekend, but I wasn't going to tell that to two complete strangers, when there is a killer on the loose." Biting her lower lip thoughtfully, she frowned. "These Devil traps and things, are we going to be able to hide them from my step-mother?"

"Oh yeah. Not a problem," Sam said, standing up and putting his empty mug in the sink. If Sarah hadn't been familiar with the Fae, he'd be worried about her state of mind, considering how well she was taking everything. "We'll hide things under the carpets and behind pictures; anything else will be the sort of thing we can clean away when we're done."

"So after we ward the house, then what?" she asked, nudging her mug away from her, as her green eyes focused on the way Dean kept encouraging Toby to eat small bits of cookie and drink from the Marvel straw cup filled with chocolate milk.

"First we have to figure out what that thing is and how we kill it," Dean told her, looking up from tempting Toby with another cookie.

"And you're sure it wasn't a Fae?" Sarah asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Jar... the Fae I dealt with before, he could change his appearance and summon all kinds of things."

The Winchesters shook their heads.

"No this definitely wasn't a Fae," Sam assured her, his mind already ticking over the things they would need to protect the house and the Williams siblings.

"You've dealt with the Fae before?" Dean asked, glancing from Sarah to Sam. Seeing his brother give a brief nod, he fell silent once more, sneaking Toby another cookie.

Sarah nodded, her fingers idly caressing Toby's head. "I was a foolish girl reading fairytales and I was stuck babysitting Toby. I wished him away to the Goblin King one night. While part of me wanted the story to be true, another part didn't think anything would actually happen. So I said the words."

"But something did happen, didn't it Sarah?" Sam asked.

Sarah picked up Toby as she nodded, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Wrapping her arms tightly around him, she buried her face against her baby brother's shoulder. "He took Toby, but I beat him and his damn Labyrinth and I got my brother back – fair and square. I'm not letting whatever this clown bastard is, get his hands on Toby."

"Had to be a clown," Sam groaned, a shiver running down his spine.

"Don't worry Sammy, I won't let the scary clown get you either,'' Dean teased, giving Sarah a cheeky wink.

"Shut up Jerk," Sam replied as he punched Dean's arm.

"Bitch…," Dean muttered as he rubbed his arm. Seeing Sarah's disapproving glare, despite her smirk, he grinned. "Um…yeah…sorry about that."

Laughing softly, Sarah watched the brothers. "You two are really close aren't you?"

"Sammy and I have been through a lot together." Dean grinned, handing Toby another cookie. "Hell and back, literally."

"It's a long story," Sam told her when she gave him a curious look. "It would take about 12 years to fill you in on everything." He said it jokingly, but it wasn't far from the truth.

Standing, Dean headed for the door, the car keys jingling in his hand, "I'll get what I need from the car and get started on warding this place."

"Yeah, then I'll head back to the police station," Sam added. "I want to see if I can find any clues before I hit the library."

Dean headed toward the front door, whistling a bright tune that was at odds with the somber mood of the house. With Toby still in her arms Sarah stood up, his head lolling against her shoulder. The feel of the sleeping boy in her embrace reminded her of the baby she had nearly lost.

"Thank you," she murmured to Sam, her words soft. "For all of this. And I... I'm sorry I tried to hit you with a pan earlier."

"Have to say that was a new one, even for me. I mean Dean…I'd kind of expect a woman to take a swing at him with heavy objects. Come to think of it, several have," he laughed as he followed Sarah to the family room.

The TV had been unplugged and covered with a blanket, silencing it. It was the only way to calm Toby down earlier. Gently, Sarah placed her brother down and pulled a knitted blanket over him, tucking it around his shoulders. She felt a pang of fear seeing her brother slip his thumb into his mouth and start to suck – he hadn't done that in years.

Sitting on the arm of the couch, Sarah brushed a strand of blonde hair from his face before kissing his head. "I almost lost him once. I fought dangers untold to keep him. I won't lose him this time either."

Before Sam could say anything, Dean came in with two large duffle bags and sat them down by the family room door announcing, "That should be everything."

"Alright, I'll see what I can find out in town. Call if you need anything," Sam said.

Dean nodded, turning his attention to the sleeping boy on the couch. Clapping his hands together, he winked at Sarah, the worried look on her face bothering him more than he'd care to admit. "Alright, let's get started."

"What do you need me to do?" Sarah asked as she watched him dig through the duffle bags, pulling out several large boxes of salt. "Do you always carry that sort of thing around with you?"

Snorting, Dean handed two boxes to Sarah. "Put it this way, we buy so much of this shit we should buy stock in a salt company." Sarah looked at the boxes, then back at him. Seeing her confusion, he grinned. "Pour a thick line in front of all the doors and windows. That will be a good start."

"Got it," Sarah took the box and hurried to the front door and poured a line across it, trying not to think about the fit her step-mother would throw if she saw the mess. Moving through the house, Sarah methodically poured a thick line of salt in front of every door and window. For good measure she did the same in front of the fireplaces in the living room and the dining room.
When she returned to the family room, she found Dean kneeling by the couch, talking quietly to Toby who was now awake.

"Don't you worry pal. Your sister, Sam, and me… we're going to keep you safe. Now I need to paint some pictures on the floor and the walls. These are magic pictures. They'll keep you safe too. So I need you to wait by the stairs while I do this."

Toby nodded and Sarah covered her mouth in shock as her brother got up and walked over to the stairs and sat down. Dean stood up and smiled at him, then gave Toby a thumbs-up before joining Sarah.

"How did you do that?" she gasped.

"What? Oh, you mean Toby? He and I are buds now," Dean grinned. "Come give me a hand with the couch."

Sarah watched him walk back to the family room, her eyes admiring the pleasant view she had of his backside in those tight black jeans. What was it with men in tight pants? She shook her head to banish thoughts of a certain blonde that also wore tight pants. Hurrying to catch up to Dean, Sarah stood at one end of the couch.

"Grab that side," Dean told her as he lifted his end of the couch. Sarah grabbed the other side with a grunt, the two of them shifting it against the far wall of the room, while Toby watched from his vantage point on the stairs. "Now I'll teach you the sigils we usually use and what they're for," Dean told her as he shook the can of red spray paint, the sharp sound of the metal mixer rattling inside the can sounding shockingly loud in the quiet of the house.

"Alright. Should I take notes?" - She was joking, but he didn't seem to catch that.

"If you want to, tho I doubt you'll need most of these. Tho, with your experiences, it probably wouldn't hurt to know them."

Seeing the serious look in his eyes. Sarah grabbed a pen and pad. "What's first?"

As Sam entered the Derry police station, the squad room was filled with officers from neighboring towns, retired cops and military men, as well as the local officers. He shook his head. These men wanted to lynch someone, yet if they actually found the thing responsible for all the deaths, he knew every one of them would be slaughtered.

"Sheriff Boyle," He called out when he spotted the older man.

Nodding to Sam, Boyle made his way across the room, mopping his brow with his ever present handkerchief. "Where's your partner?"

"At the Williams house. He wanted to keep trying to talk to the boy."

"I'm afraid that's a lost cause," the Sheriff sighed. "I don't think he'll ever return to normal."

"I'm hopeful Toby will recover and be a help to us. He responded to my partner and even spoke a little," Sam replied, the shadow of a smile curling his lips at the look of surprise on the Sheriff's face.

"The boy spoke?"

"Just one word, deadlights. Does that mean anything to you?"

"Deadlights?" The sheriff scratched his head, wrinkling his nose in a frown. "Isn't that a type of skylight?"

Sam shrugged. "I'm not familiar with skylights."

"If it isn't skylights, then I can't say I've ever heard of it. I don't think it's anything that can help you agent, but a word spoken is better than the silence we got from the boy. It's a good sign he's improving at least," Boyle said. "I know his family will be relieved to have a bit of hope on that score."

Nodding Sam, sighed. "Sheriff was there anything unusual at any of the crime scene or in the autopsy reports?"

"What autopsies? All we found were parts," the Sherriff asks, his voice creeping higher with each word.

"Calm down Sheriff," Sam held his hands up to the older man, his own words dropping lower, the tone quiet and calm. "Now even though the remains were... well not a lot to go by, did your coroner run any kind of tests or find anything odd on the remains." Sam worded his questions carefully trying to avoid mentioning anything too odd. "A certain type of dirt or maybe a chemical on the clothes? Anything that might give us a lead."

The sheriff thought a moment. "Now that you mention it, there was a greasy stain on the clothing of two of the victims. I didn't think anything of it at first. Could that really help?" Boyle almost laughed at the thought. "Sounds like one of those crazy CSI shows or something. A speck of dirt leads police to the exact location the killer is hiding out."

Sam chuckled. "It's not quite as exact as they make it seem on TV, but it could give us somewhere to look. Example if this grease you mentioned is used for certain things say for diesel trucks, we would look at all the places in town with diesel trucks. Now that's still a lot of ground to cover, but it's less than the entire town."

Boyle nodded and grabbed the nearest phone. "I'll call Earl and have him run any test he can."

Sam thanked the Sheriff and gave him his cell number, asking that he call if they found anything. Stepping out of the police department, he squinted in the bright midday sun. The clock on the town hall read ten minutes to two, the early afternoon bustle of the town square casting a pleasant hum over the area, as cars slowly made their way around the park in the middle of the square, and people walked up and down the sidewalks, moving from one shop to the next. Pursing his lips, Sam felt for the car keys in his pocket then changed his mind, seeing that the library was on the other side of the square from the police department. Sam joined the pedestrians crossing the square and headed to the library to start researching the town, the events of 27 years ago, and Deadlights.

With each step he scanned the people around him and the buildings, even as his mind whirled over what he hoped to find at the library. He hoped the internet connection at the library was better than it had been at the police station. When they returned from the last crime scene, Sam had tried using his laptop in the Sheriff's office only to find they were using very outdated services and his home page took 5 minutes to load. Sam nearly sighed with relief seeing the "free Wi-Fi" sign on the library door.

After properly warding the house and teaching Sarah what he could, Dean and Sarah made themselves comfortable on the couch, with Toby between them, Sarah holding her little brother against her, her fingers gently stroking his head. Dean watched her with a thoughtful smile. It was obvious how much she loved the little guy. Dean couldn't help thinking about his own little brother and all he had done to try and protect Sammy.

"So tell me, Dean," Sarah's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "How did you and Sam get into all this?"

Dean's shoulders lifted slightly as he reached for the remote, then stopped himself when Toby flinched. Glancing at the covered TV, he cringed. "Well, it's the family business you could say. Our mom and her folks were hunters."

"So she taught you all of those symbols?"

"No, we had no clue mom was a hunter until recently. Hell, my dad never knew. She gave it all up when she married him. She never wanted us to be involved with any of this," Dean explained.

"So what changed?" Sarah inquired.

"A yellowed-eyed demon killed her. My dad became a hunter and raised, or should I say trained us to hunt these things."

"Did you get the demon?"

Dean nodded, his eyes darkening as his lips pulled tight. "We did, but not before it got Dad."

"I'm sorry," Sarah murmured, squeezing Toby tighter.

Shrugging Dean gave her a forgiving grin, "I've still got Sammy. We've been through a lot; lost a lot of good friends, but we've saved a bunch of people too. Hell, we stopped the freaking apocalypse."

"You're kidding right?" She chuckled.

"Nope, scouts honor. We locked the devil away in a cage and saved the world. We've both been to hell, fought demons, angels, and all kinds of nasty beasts."

"If I hadn't seen the crap I've seen I'd probably say you were nuts."

Dean shrugged, his boyish grin turning curious as he looked at her. "So how did you beat the Fae that took your brother?"

Sighing, Sarah's fingers idly played with Toby's hair. "Pure luck mostly, though I did have some help."

"Who?"

"Creatures from the Labyrinth… Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus. They were my friends and I don't think I would have made it to the castle in time without them."

Dean nodded, his expression serious. "It's good to have friends when you're up against this shit. What happened them…your friends?"

Shrugging, Sarah shook her head. "No clue. I haven't seen them since that night. That bastard probably punished them for helping me," she said through gritted teeth.

"Hey, take it easy." Dean reached his and grasped her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We'll deal with this and then we'll help you get that baby snatching bastard. He must have put you through some horrible things the way you want him dead," he added with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"There were some horrible things in the Labyrinth, the cleaners, those pervy helping hands, and the bog of eternal stench, but not all of it was horrible. Some of it was actually enjoyable, but then that's part of the trap I guess. Those were the parts meant to distract me and keep me from reaching the castle in time."

Sarah had been lost in her thoughts of Jareth and the Labyrinth and completely missed the varied expressions that passed over Dean's face. "Hold it, hold it, hold it…. Pervy helping hands?"

Sarah couldn't help it but laugh, the sound warm and chiming in the silence of the room. "Don't ask."

"Oh no! You can't say something like that then keep the details to yourself. Spill!" he demanded, with a grin.

Flushing, Sarah bit her lip. "Well, I fell down a trap and was stopped by these hands sticking out of the walls of the hold. And let's just say, some of them got very friendly. They did stop me from falling to my death, although I'm sure a couple of them weren't really trying to help as much as they were just copping a feel," she laughed.

Smiling Dean squeezed her hand, which she surprisingly hadn't pulled out of his grasp. "That's the Sarah I want to see more of."

"What?" His words caught her off guard and she pulled her hand away from him.

"Smiling," Dean stated. "I'd like to see you happy and smiling more. You're beautiful when you smile and I hate seeing pretty girls feeling blue."

"Oh," Sarah nodded and avoided looking at him. Standing, she let go of her brother and excused herself before dashing to the restroom, leaving a very confused Dean and Toby.

Sighing, Dean shook his head and smiled at Toby. "Women…I tell you, they are confusing buddy."

Staying silent, Toby nodded.

Sam sighed and let another dusty book fall shut with a dull thud, the sound overly loud in the quiet of the library. Frowning he surveyed the stacks of books around him, covering the top of the large library table he had commandeered in a back corner of the city records section. He'd used every search technique he could think of, but was still having very little luck with his research.

The town itself was rather boring – boring except for the fact that since the town was established in 1789, every 27 to 30 years a spate of unexplained disappearances and murders occurred – usually targeting children and young adults. Even more strange than that, no one seemed to link the occurrences. Sure they reported them, but for whatever reason, no one seemed to notice the pattern. 'Or maybe they are afraid to voice it,' he mused, flipping open another book, then sighing and putting it into another pile of useless tomes.

Other than the recurring runs of murder and disappearances, nothing much happened in the town. There wasn't even one recorded death by anything other than natural causes or logging accidents in all that time. All things considered, the town was a small, peaceful place to raise a family – at least until the curse reared its head every 27 years or so.

As far as the murders, he hadn't found anything more than what the Sherriff had given him. He hoped the coroner found something on the remains that might help them.

With no other leads, Sam tried to find any information he could on deadlights, but he wasn't having much luck there either. The only reference he found was in an obscure text that mentioned the Archangels "defending the children of Earth from Lights of the Dead" It was the closest thing Sam found after hours of research. Deciding to take a chance, he called their favorite angel to see if he knew anything.

"Hello." Castiel's deep voice answered the phone.

"Hey Cas, its Sam."

"Sam, is everything alright?"

"Well, Dean and I could use your help. We're working a case in Maine and I can't find any information on this thing," Sam explained, his voice dropping under the angry glare of the passing librarian.

"You're hunting something you know nothing about?" Castiel muttered.

"Well we know it seems to wake up and kills a bunch of kids in this town, every 27 years or so. And it doesn't stop at just killing them, it rips them apart, Cas. We're not even sure what it is called. The only kid to survive it this time isn't talking…well…he did scream one thing while some demon clown with razors for teeth tried to climb through a TV screen."

Clearing his throat, Castiel cut in, "Clown? Are you sure you weren't just having a nightmare? Maybe Morpheus is screwing with you again?"

"It is the stuff of nightmares sure, but we all saw it. And the kid started screaming 'Deadlights'…"

"Did you say Deadlights?" Castiel's voice raised in an almost panicked tone, as he cut off Sam's explanation.

"Yea, do you know anything about it?''

"You said a boy survived?" Castiel demanded, ignoring Sam's question.

"You're worrying me, Cas. What is this thing?"

"But there is a survivor?" Castiel continued.

"Yeah…That's right, Toby. He's pretty messed up though. Hasn't said anything since the night his friend was killed, until today that is. He was screaming Deadlights. Do you know what they are?"

"An evil from another realm." Castiel's voice got an octave deeper as he whispered, his words carrying an urgency that chilled Sam's blood. He knew that sound, and it was not good. "That boy is in grave danger. It won't stop until he's dead. Where are you? I'll head to you now."

"We're in Derry Maine. Cas do you know how to stop this thing?"

"Perhaps, but we'll need the King of Dreams to pull it off. You'll need to find a way to call him. I could do it, but we are… we aren't on the best of terms. It's best if you call him, but be careful. He's on par with the Archangels and he's very tricky. I'll be there soon. Until then stay with the boy. Do not let him out of your sight." Castiel hung up before Sam could reply.

Sam sighed and clicked the search bar on his screen. "Guess I need to do more research." He said to himself as he typed in "King of Dreams".

After Sarah left the room, Dean had tried once more to talk to Toby. The boy seemed to be a lot more responsive than he was when they first arrived. Dean was glad he was helping in that area at least. He just wished Toby could tell him what happened.

"So bud, what do you say we have a little fun? Your sister tells me you're quite the artist." Dean grabbed the crayons and some paper, putting them on the coffee table in front of Toby. "Now I'm not a professional, but I can draw a mean stick figure. So I challenge you to a little contest. We'll let Sarah judge and she gets to give the winner a prize." He leaned closer to the boy with a conspiratorial grin. "Personally I'm hoping for a kiss. There's nothing better than a kiss from a pretty girl, and your sister is a very pretty girl."

Toby wrinkled up his nose as he looked at Dean in disgust – a look Dean enjoyed because it was the first time Toby really seemed to react to anything except the demon clown on the TV.

After a moment Toby picked up a crayon from the table and looked at it. He stared at it for a long time before he began the color the paper red. There were no shapes or designs, just red. He colored from one side to the other and just kept coloring. Dean sighed and watched him for a moment before grabbing a couple crayons. It wasn't much but at least he got the boy to color. It was going to take time and patience, but he was certain that Toby would recover from all this. Dean just hoped they found a lead before another child was killed.

Sarah stood at the door, her hand over her mouth as she watched them. Dean really was amazing. He managed to make more progress with her little brother in a couple of hours than anyone had in weeks. She smiled seeing Toby color. She couldn't see what he was making, but it was good to see him with art supplies again. After a few moments, Sarah walked over and looked at their art. Toby's page was almost a solid red page now, while Dean had a whole page of various stick figures, all labeled with names.

"Wow, look at you two." She smiled as she sat between them.

"I challenged Toby here to a little contest." Dean grinned. "I told him I could beat him at an art contest. So here's my entry." Dean handed the paper to Sarah and they both looked at Toby who was still coloring. "I guess he's still working on his."

Sarah looked at the paper Dean handed her. There were stick figures of all colors and sizes. She read the names to herself wondering who they all were; Mary, John, Ash, Ellen, Jo, Pamela, Rufus, Bobby, Henry, Kevin, Charlie.

"Who are all these people?"

"People I've lost," Dean replied.

Sarah looked up from the paper into his candy apple green eyes. "So many people. Were they all…" Dean nodded before she finished her sentence. "That's horrible." Before she thought better of it, Sarah leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"What was that for?"

"Didn't you say that you hoped your prize would be a kiss?" She grinned, hoping to at least lighten the mood a little.

Dean smiled and shook his head. "Guess I won the contest, Toby." Looking over he found the boy still coloring the page, completely ignoring everything else. Looking back to Sarah, Dean started to say something but the ringing of his phone stopped him. Pulling it from his pocket, he hit the speaker button.

"Hey Sammy, tell me you've got something."

"Not much. I found a reference to the Archangels defending the children of Earth from the Lights of the Dead," Sam told them.

"Archangels? We should call…"

"I already called him," Sam interrupted. "He's on his way and said we'll need the help from the King of Dreams." Before Dean could do any more than open his mouth, Sam continued. "Yeah… I don't him either, but I found a summoning ritual. I'll text you the list of supplies you can pick up at the store or at Sarah's. I'm off to see if I can find the not so common items on the list. Pretty sure this town doesn't have an occult shop, so it may be a few hours. I know there is one in Portland."

"King of Dreams?" Sarah questioned. She had a bad feeling about this. "Who is he?"

"According to the little bit of lore I found, he's a powerful King from another realm that, unlike most of his kind, actually helps humans. It's very vague on how he helps, but if Cas says we need him…"

"I hear ya. We must need him," Dean said. "So this King of Dreams is one of the good guys?"

"Maybe." Sam wasn't sure of anything. "Cas said we need him, but to be careful. He's apparently on par with an Archangel and very sneaky."

"Great another freaking, trickster," Dean groaned.

"Yeah, anyway I got to run. Gather what you can in town and I'll be back with the rest of the supplies tonight. Oh and Dean, Cas said that Toby is in danger. Don't let him out of your sight. Apparently, this thing won't stop until it kills him."

Hours later, Toby was sound asleep on the couch and Sarah and Dean were in the kitchen waiting for Sam, the items needed for the ritual sitting on the table.

"Are you sure about this?" Sarah asked. She shivered thinking about it. "I don't like the idea of summoning some magical King. I've had my fill of Kings…especially magical, trickster ones."

"Don't worry. We'll use every precaution we can and make sure it's completely safe for you and Toby," Dean assured her. "Now Sam will be here soon, we've got everything right?"

Sarah nodded, reading over the list and checked the items on the table. "Dandelions, mallow, poplar buds, Rowan, St John's wort, tobacco, matches, a metal bowl, a silver knife, and candles. Will this really work? Most of this is just weeds from the backyard?"

"You'll be surprised how many things these weeds are used for," Dean told her as he paced the room.

"Will the tobacco from cigarettes and a bottle of St John's wort supplements pills really work?"

Dean shrugged, giving her a sheepish grin. "Sometimes you have to make do with what you can get. Once we used salt scraped from pretzels."

The cheerful chimes of the doorbell sounded through the house. Hopping up, Dean headed to the front door and threw it open to see Sam on the porch, his arms full of bags.

"About time Sammy."

"You try navigating Portland traffic during rush hour," Sam grumbled, passing some of the heavier bags to Dean as he pushed his way into the house and nudged the door shut with his hip. "Did you get the rest of the stuff?"

"Yeah, what about you?" Dean questioned.

"The feathers were a bit tricky, but I got them. I had to pay a zookeeper, but I got them. Luckily we still had some phoenix ash in the trunk."

The brothers bustled into the kitchen, sitting the bags on the counters, then pulling items from them to join the pile on the kitchen table. Sarah blinked as she listened to them talk.

"Phoenix ash?" Sarah wasn't sure she wanted to know how they got that.

"Long story," Sam and Dean replied in unison.

Shaking her head, Sarah chuckled, "Seems like everything is a long story with you two."

Sam surveyed the items on the table and checked the ritual he had found. "When you've been through as much as we have, yeah…everything is a long story." A frown pulled at his lips, as he shook his head. "I really hope this works. Cas said he could get the Dream King, but thought it would be better if we summoned him."

Jumping as Dean slapped him on the back, Sam took the mortar his brother thrust into his hands. "No sense worrying about it now. Better get to grinding."

The three of them sat at the table, carefully grinding the various ingredients and mixing them together, all the while the knot in Sarah's stomach grew larger. They worked in silence until the sun had fully set, covering the town in velvet night.

"Alright pour everything into the bowl," Sam instructed

Dean and Sarah carefully added their herbs to the bowl, with Sam emptying the phoenix ash out of the bullet it had been put in, letting it scatter on top of the herbs. Shaking the bowl gently to mix it, he pursed his lips, unimpressed with the look of the mixture – no matter how many times they summoned beings, there was always a degree of worry that things would go horribly wrong. So far they'd been lucky, but deep down he knew that sooner or later their luck would run out.

"That should do it," he finally said, sitting the bowl aside.

"Sarah why don't you go check on Toby," Dean suggested when he glanced over and saw her hugging her knee to her chest and rocking nervously in her seat.

Nodding she hurried to the other room without a word.

"Is she ok?" Sam asked once she had left.

Dean shrugged, his expression pensive as the brothers moved the kitchen table into the hall, leaving them more room for the ritual.

"She's worried about summoning this guy. Whatever happened to her in that Labyrinth must have been horrible. She told me a little, but it's clear it was traumatic for her."

"Yeah, well not everyone is prepared for this stuff. Let's just hope this King is willing to help." Sam said, glancing at his watch then out the window. The moon was just beginning to rise in the sky – it was time.

Leaning down he drew an almost horned symbol on the floor with the infinity symbol in it, while Dean lit five blue candles and set them around the salt circle in the middle of the kitchen

"What's that?" Dean asked, not recognizing the symbol.

"The seal of the King," Sam muttered, double-checking his notes to make sure it was drawn precisely. "Apparently, this ritual is used to call over a 100 beings, the difference is the symbol and the type of feather needed for the summoning."

"Great…" Dean groaned and ran his hand through his hair until it stood wildly across his forehead. "I really hope we are calling the right King."

"Me too," Sam admitted, shaking his head.

Stepping back, he placed the bowl with the herbs and ash on top of the seal, then moved out of the circle, as Dean began to lay down another circle outside the first, slowly moving counter-clockwise to spread the mixture of salt, holy oil and ground crystals. Murmuring quietly, Sam laid down the stone seals to mark the quarters.

"Not taking any chances with this guy, I see," Dean grumbled, stepping back. "Do you really think three layers of binding are necessary?"

Sam eyed his brother with a frown, "You didn't hear Cas. The idea of summoning this King made him nervous. So no… we're not taking any chances."

When Sarah returned, they had the room set up to begin, and the moon was creeping higher in the sky.

"How is he?" Sam asked when he saw her return.

"He was having a nightmare again. I got him to quiet down and go back to sleep," she said hugging herself, her hands rubbing up and down her arms as another chill ran through her. "Please tell me this will be over soon."

"We're ready to summon the King," Sam told her. "So, yeah…for better or worse, this part will be over soon."

She nodded and stood behind them. "Let's get this over with."

Sam picked up the paper he had the incantation written on and started to read it as he used the sliver blade to slice his hand and let the blood drip into the bowl, not hearing the gasp from Sarah or seeing the way she flinched at the sight of his blood.

"Tha mi a 'gairm air Rìgh nan Dreams, esan a tha a' toirt leis an toil leis. Bidh mi a 'gairm agus ga cheangal ri mo thoil."

Sam held the barn owl feather out to his brother, who lit it on fire with a match, and then Sam tossed it in the bowl while Dean tossed in the match. There was a loud pop and the room filled with purple-grey smoke, which oddly seemed to sparkle.

When the cloud cleared a tall man stood in the middle of the circle, an ethereal wind swirling around the kitchen making the flames of the blue candles dance and flicker. His clothes were dark, a fine sheen of black glitter settling over his form giving him a dangerous air. Wild wisps of blonde hair could be seen over the high collar of the sleek black leather cloak he wore. The being held his hands out; the leather of his gloves creaking as he slowly flexed his fingers. Raising his head he looked around the room through narrowed blue eyes, the steep arch of his eyebrows adding to the feral look of him.

"Well, that was most unexpected," he murmured, his lips quirking into a malicious smile.

The low accented voice struck a chord in Sarah, eliciting a panicked gasp. "No, it can't be…"

Turning toward her voice, the King's grin broadened.

"Well…well…Hello, again Sarah." He looked at the bowl sitting at his feet, low laughter rumbling up from his chest. "Hmmm, herbs? A barn owl feather, and is that… yes, it is. Where ever did you get Phoenix ash..Hmmm?" He looked up at Sarah, who was standing behind the sandy-haired youth, the young man holding a silver dagger in his hand, as he attempted to shield Sarah. "Really I'm flattered that you went to such lengths to call for me, but Sarah, Precious…" He paused and took a moment to admire how she had grown. "All you had to do was wish for me."

Author Note: Please review!