-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

A Wandering Boy

Chapter 1

Out of Nowhere

Sam Winchester was sitting on the concrete walk outside his motel room, long legs extended, enjoying the sun on his face and the smell of the country air. His back was braced against the outer wall of the old motel, a whetstone in his left hand and a wicked looking knife in his right. As he stroked the blade against the stone the rhythm sang of competence and long practice. He almost didn't need to look at what he was doing. The sharpening of the tools of his trade was second nature after years of practice.

Long, tall and classically handsome the young Hunter was at ease in his skin. For years he had fought against his nature, trying to leave 'the life' behind. After a couple of semesters of college he had learned that although his mind said it wanted 'normal' and 'safe', deep inside he knew he was living a lie.

He made friends; he found a girl. He studied hard and earned the praise of his teachers. All the while, however, something was dying deep inside. Finally he understood that what was dying was Sam Winchester, his true being. He came to understand that all the play pretend he was living was a lie. He was creating the person he thought he ought to be instead of learning to live with the person he really was.

One Friday afternoon he finally decided to face up to the truth. The following Monday he was scheduled for an appointment that would hand him the rest of his pretend life on a plate. He could let Sam Winchester die and follow that path. The empty years stretched out ahead. He would pass the bar, join a prestigious firm, marry Jess and have 2.5 kids and a yellow dog. All it would cost would be his soul.

He walked away and never looked back. To everyone he had come to know during the Stanford years, he simply disappeared from the face of the Earth.

_..-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Sam and Carson Wyne, a young Hunter Bobby Singer asked Sam to train as a favor, had been clearing the manitous of various animals out of the Black Hills National Park lands. The Cheyanne shamans had left the spirits behind to protect the tribe's territories when the American cavalry came to chase them off their lands a hundred years before. The hungry animal spirits had been left to wander the lands, destroying those foolish enough to walk the hills or the Badlands alone without spiritual protection.

Sam used the same rites to calm and banish the spirits that the shamans had used to raise them a century before. With sage and other burning herbs, with chants and songs and the beating of the blessed ceremonial drums the seasoned hunter had sent the manitous back into the earth.

Sam was a professional who had learned his skills from his father and then from Bobby Singer. Singer's teachings worked better with the earth spirit forms as he treated them with respect. John Winchester's answer to everything was violence.

His son did not see the world with such hatred and consequently became more than his father ever could be. Now this young Hunter was trusted to train even younger Hunters and a new spirit was gradually spreading through the Hunting communities. The old 'it's not human, kill it' mantra was slowly changing to 'if it's evil we kill it' and the spiritual and the physical sides of existence were growing closer together.

Sam's way was proving to be the better way to hunt. His hunts resulted in fewer injuries and shorter hunts with better long term results. If something deserved to be killed Sam didn't hesitate. A human death was often proof enough for both Sam and the old time Hunters. When Sam left an area the area was generally pacified and did not fester into a new manifestation. The old style Hunts often left a smear of evil behind that grew back into a new eruption of corruption in a decade or two.

Sam had become content with his decision. The sound of his honing blended into the evening hush as he relaxed. Carson had gone out to buy them some dinner and Sam Winchester's world was humming along in just the way he liked.

_..-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

There were light footsteps on the gravel lot and Sam looked up to see a figure emerging out of the setting sun. Illuminated from the back Sam could only discern a small figure and it took him a moment to decide that the glowing figure was that of a child. As the child came closer Sam could see that it appeared to be a rather beautiful boy with golden curling hair and large green eyes. Full pouting lips and a splash of freckles completed a face that was sure to draw attention both now and in the future.

The boy was dressed in denim jeans with a soft white shirt flapping in the evening breeze. He wore sensible boots for a South Dakota fall but had no jacket to protect him from the wind. His fists were stuffed in to his jeans' pockets as far as they would go and his shoulders were hunched against the evening chill.

He stopped in front of Sam. "Hello," he said in a child's lilting voice. "Are you Sam Winchester?"

Sam put his knife into the wrist holder and put his whetstone into his jacket pocket. He stood up, towering over the small boy and said "Yes, I'm Sam. Who are you?"

"You're a big one, aren't you?" the boy replied, thrusting his chin out as if to prove that he wasn't intimidated by Sam's size. He shivered and Sam took off his jacket and wrapped it around the child's shoulders.

"Come on," Sam said. "Come in and let's sit down and talk."

The child's eyes narrowed. "You aren't going to try any funny stuff, are you? The nerdy guy said it would be alright and that I shouldn't be afraid of you."

Sam smiled. "The nerdy guy? Who's that?" He wrapped a gentle hand around the boy's back and led the child to his open motel room door. Once inside Sam cleared some of his research papers from the table and pulled up a chair for the little boy.

"Ok now?" Sam said quietly and the little boy nodded after he climbed onto the chair. Sam went over to the coffee pot and poured a cup.

"Can I have some of that?" the boy asked.

"Really?" Sam's eyebrows rose. "You want some coffee?"

"Please," the kid muttered. "With milk. And do you have anything to eat?"

Sam shrugged and made up a cup of milky coffee. He glanced around the somewhat bare counter and his eyes fell on a box of Carson's crackers. He brought both items to the table and sat down.

"I've given you what you wanted. How about you tell me your name now?" Sam smiled again at the kid

"I don't know." The boy replied munching his way through a couple of crackers, spraying crumbs.

"You don't know your name? Sam repeated. "How is that possible?"

The kid sipped at his coffee flavored milk and curled his nose up. "This is cold." He handed the cup back to Sam. Sam rose and added a little more warm coffee and gave it back.

"Why don't you just start at the beginning and tell me what you do know." Sam suggested.

"I was standing on the other side of the road with the nerdy guy and he pointed at you and said that you were Sam Winchester and I belonged with you." The kid dug into the box for more crackers. "I don't remember much before that. I know some stuff like words and sometimes I recognize things like your T.V. and your pretty Impala outside but I don't know why I know those things."

Sam sat back and considered just what he was looking at. The first thing he did was get a glass and pour a slug of holy water for the kid to drink. He handed the glass to the boy.

"You aren't trying to drug me, or anything, are you?" the kid asked suspiciously. Sam countered by drinking a sip of the water himself then motioning for the boy to drink up. Nothing happened.

Sam handed the boy his silver knife and the boy's skin stayed clear. Next he asked the boy to nick a finger just a little bit, just enough to make the finger bleed.

"Why would I cut myself? That would hurt." The boy pouted.

"It's a kind of a test." Sam replied. "It means I can trust what you have to say."

"Weird," the child said. "But OK. Will you get me something more to eat if I do it?" Sam laughed at the little bargain.

"You can have anything I've got except the beer." Sam replied. "Deal?"

The boy passed the extremely sharp knife over a fingertip and several drops of blood splashed on to the table. "Damn," he cried. "That thing is sharp. I didn't mean to cut that much. You got a band aide?"

Sam decided that the child was what he appeared to be. No demon had ever asked Sam for a band aide before.

After getting the requested item from the first aid kit Sam returned to the table only to find the kid was ransacking the countertop cabinets and the mini refrigerator.

"What a cheat," the boy complained. "You don't have anything except some milk and a can of off brand soda. Is there a vending machine? Can you go get me some chips?"

Just then Carson entered their room carrying their evening meal.

"Hi Sam," Carson said. "Who's your new friend?" Carson was a fresh faced kid of around eighteen and he brought no feeling of danger into the room but Sam saw the little boy tense up. The boy got off the chair and slid it around so that the back was against the wall and climbed back up. Now the little boy could watch both men at once.

"We're trying to determine just who our little friend is," Sam replied. "So far we haven't made much headway. I know he likes coffee and he ate most of your crackers."

Carson sat down and distributed the food, ripping the top off his container and creating a plate for the boy. Both Hunters contributed portions of their meal and the boy's eyes got big. "That's for me?"

"Yeah," Sam replied. "You were telling me about the nerdy guy."

The boy stuffed some French fries in his mouth. "Ok, like I said I was standing with him on the other side of the road. I don't know where I came from or if I had always been with him but he told me that I belonged with you and he pushed me into the road. I kept going until I walked up to you."

"What did the guy look like other than just nerdy?" Sam asked.

"Well, he wasn't as tall as you but he was taller than your friend here," the boy replied pointing at Carson. "He was an old guy, maybe even thirty or something."

"Ancient, then" Sam said with a straight face.

The little boy glared as if he knew that Sam was amused. "Yeah, that's what I said. He was dressed like a lawyer on T.V. but he had his tie all messed up. It was like he had tied it wrong and it kept flipping over and showing the back. He was wearing a funny long coat like a raincoat but it was tan. I saw a coat like that once on T.V. Some one-eyed cop always wore one but I don't remember what it's called." He stopped to stuff more French fries in his mouth.

Carson spoke up. "Colombo, do you mean Colombo? He squinted all the time because he had one glass eye and he always wore a ratty old trench coat. Is that who you mean?"

The boy nodded his head. "Yeah, that was the name, Colombo and you call it a trench coat?"

"Well this guy with me had one of those coats but it was all new and clean. Strange though, it always kept blowing around even when there wasn't any wind. He had black hair and really, really blue eyes and all he said to me was that I belonged to Sam Winchester and that Sam Winchester would keep me safe from the demons and the Angels."

Sam took a deep breath and so did Carson. "I'm supposed to keep you safe from demons? That's what the nerdy guy said?" Sam repeated.

"The demons and the Angels." The boy replied. "He was pushy about that. He made me repeat it; the demons and the Angels, both of them."

"There are no such things as Angels," Sam said softly.