Fic: Heroes
Title: Heroes
Author: brightly_lit
Rating: PG for language, a little violence
Genre: gen, outsider pov, casefic
Characters: Sam, Dean, OC
Word Count: ~5,500
Summary: Eleven-year-old action-movie addict Toby's teacher and classmate are acting weird, but that doesn't explain why the two huge guys torch his classmate and kidnap Toby! That's only the start of the night's adventures. Too bad he's the kidnapped victim instead of getting to be the hero.
"Dean was a tough kid. He thinks every kid is as tough as he was," said Sam.
Okay, so it was a little weird that his teacher had insisted his classmate Sarah walk him home. Actually, it was kind of weird that Mrs. Atkins made him stay after school at all, especially so late that it had gotten dark. His parents hadn’t said anything that morning about going out that night, but sure enough, Mom hadn’t come to get him, so Toby guessed it must be true. Still, why did they have Mrs. Atkins watch him? Couldn’t he have just gone over to John’s house? Why Sarah? Toby barely knew her. And why was Sarah acting so weird?
All that seemed normal, though, compared to what happened next. A black car careened across the street and screeched to a halt, headlights on him and Sarah. These two huge guys got out with a flamethrower! One of them grabbed Toby by the shirt and dragged him away from Sarah. Toby yelled at them not to touch them, but then the other one started beating her up!
Toby punched the one holding his shirt in the kidney--or he tried. He’d seen that move on t.v. millions of times, and it always worked, but this guy saw it coming, spun Toby away so he missed, then got him in a hold with both his arms pinned and there was hardly anything he could do--not even bite. Instead, he stomped the guy’s foot and screamed for help. The guy cursed, letting him go--but only for a second. He grabbed Toby, covered his mouth, and tossed him unceremoniously in the backseat of the car, slamming the door, muttering, “Jesus, kid.” Toby heard him through the open driver’s side window as he turned to the other guy, saying, “She dead yet?”
Toby was arrested by this, staring out the window of the car in horror at his dead classmate, or ... that was what he was expecting to see. Instead, the thing on the ground didn’t even look human. Both guys were standing over whatever it was. They torched it a little more, talking about it unconcernedly, as if they did this to elementary-school girls all the time. Toby couldn’t believe his eyes. What kind of nightmare was this from? These guys were monsters, the very, very worst kind of monsters in the whole world. Then, as one, the two guys glanced over at Toby.
Toby scooted across the backseat and threw open the door on the opposite side of the car, as far away from them as he could get, and made a break for it. He didn’t get very far; the tall one caught up to him in seconds, grabbed him up off the ground, saying, “Calm down! It’s okay! We’re not going to hurt you!”
As if. He had to get away from these horrible, bad, child-killing men right now. Toby screamed for help again, kicking, and the guy holding him covered his mouth. “We gonna have to tie him up?” asked the other casually, watching from the driver’s side, kind of amused.
“Look!” said the one holding him, grunting as he withstood the blows from Toby’s feet. He held Toby over what was left of Sarah. “Does that look human to you? That wasn’t a girl, it was a monster, and we killed it. We’re not hurting you; we saved you.” Toby did catch a glimpse of Sarah’s body on the sidewalk--okay, so Toby had enjoyed teasing her, but he never could have imagined something like this happening to her! These guys, these monsters--look what they had done to her! What were they about to do to Toby??
“Yeah, so simmer down and shut the fuck up, kid,” the other one said, “before you attract the rest of the little monsters.” He got in the car, saying, “Come on, Sam.”
“What do we do with him?” ‘Sam’ asked as Toby struggled with all his might.
“Bring ’im. I’m sure one of its other mini-mes is at his place, lookin’ like him and feeding off of Ma. Hopefully we’ll get there in time to save his dad. Hear that, kid? We’re trying to save your dad, so quit being a pain in the ass and start helping us out here.” What was this crazy guy going on about his parents? These guys were planning to hurt his parents, too?? “He might even know where Mama Monster is. Where do you live?” he asked as Sam wrenched open the door and put Toby in the backseat again, more gently this time.
Toby loved action/adventure movies more than any other kind, and he’d always dreamed of being the hero. Terrified as he was, he would at least save his parents’ lives. Then, when he was rescued or when he did finally escape, everyone would talk about what a brave badass he was. “Like I’m gonna tell you,” Toby spat, going for the door to escape.
The driver made a really irritated sound, and then said sharply, “Hey!”
Toby heard a clicking sound, and turned to see a gun trained on him. It’s not like Toby hadn’t been scared this whole time, but for the first time, he was petrified. He’d imagined what he would do if someone pulled a gun on him. He’d imagined something exactly like this a million times. In his fantasies, he always wrested the gun from the bad guy and took control of the situation, but here, facing that cold, lethal hunk of metal for real, suddenly he found he couldn’t move. These might literally be his last moments. His bravado deserted him, the blood drained from his face. He just stared, leaving his body.
The other one was appalled. “Dean, what the hell?” he said, batting at the driver’s hand, trying to get him to lower his gun. Toby wished he hadn’t; he flinched, afraid the movement would make the gun go off, or this ‘Dean’ would be so startled he pulled the trigger.
“It’s lot easier than tying him up. He’ll thank me after I’ve saved his ass,” Dean said unapologetically, although Sam still seemed disapproving. Dean looked back at Toby. “You sit back there and you shut up, and we’ll fill you in as we go.”
They got on the road. Toby sat perfectly still, though Dean had put the gun away, and Sam didn’t seem to want to pull a gun on him, just to grab him and throw him around, each a different kind of bad man. They were going too fast for Toby to jump out the door now. Toby breathed fast, trying to get his brain to work, but all he could do was wonder what they were going to do to him. Were they going to torch him like they torched Sarah? “Why--why did you kill Sarah?” he said, trying to sound strong and brave, but instead it came out almost at a whisper.
Dean said, “The real Sarah is still alive; we just have to find ’er. The deal is, monsters are real. There’s a kind called a changeling. They kidnap kids and feed off ’em--that’s what we just saved you from--you’re welcome--and replace them with their own kids, who feed off the parents until they’re dead. That’s what we’re trying to save your parents from. So, you gonna help us out and tell us where you live?”
So they were crazy. Crazy and mean and evil. They were psychotic, believing they were good. Toby had seen that kind of bad guy on t.v. plenty of times, and they were one of the worst kinds, because they wouldn’t listen to you. Stupid people on t.v. always tried to argue with them, and only ended up making it worse, so Toby stayed quiet.
When Toby still said nothing, Sam turned around, glanced at him, and then gave Dean a disapproving glare. “He’s in shock, Dean! Good work there, pulling a gun on a ten-year-old.”
“Eleven,” Toby mumbled.
“See? Eleven,” Dean retorted, as if vindicated. “He’s fine.”
“He’s not fine! Look at’im!”
Dean shrugged. “I saw a lot worse by the time I was eleven. So did you.”
“We grew up like that. This is a normal kid, with a normal life where this kind of thing doesn’t happen. Could you go easy on him?”
Toby was incredibly relieved. Maybe only Dean was crazy. Sam understood. He was obviously the nicer one. Maybe he would protect Toby from Dean.
Dean had sounded so casual this whole time, but now he spoke sharply. “Easy’ll get him killed! If you really think tying him up is better, then I’ll pull over right now and you can tie him up. That’ll be fun to explain to his parents when we find his house.”
All of Toby’s relief evaporated as Sam glanced back at him again, considered tying him up, then thought better of it, as much as giving Dean permission to shoot him.
Toby couldn’t believe it. He had been kidnapped. He’d seen stuff like this on t.v. He’d fantasized countless times about what he would do in a situation like this, and he was sure he could escape without too much trouble. He’d taken karate and everything. Still, somehow, it was like nothing he’d done had any impact on these guys. It was almost like they hadn’t even noticed his attempts to escape, except to be annoyed by them. He thought about all the times Mom had made fun of him for thinking it would be so easy to beat the bad guys, as he scoffed at the lame people on t.v. shows who usually didn’t even try to escape, and always failed when they did. She’d been right after all. He was too scared to even cry. He just sat silent in the backseat, wishing he would wake up.
The two guys had been talking, but he’d left his body and hadn’t heard what they were saying for a long time, until they started talking about him and what they were going to do with him again. He scarcely dared to breathe, but he was breathing so loud he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to hear them over the sound of it. “We’re out of leads and it’s late; we should go back to the hotel and see if we can ... encourage him to talk.” Toby started breathing louder. Oh, no! They were going to tie him to a chair and beat him up!
“Yeah,” sighed Dean. “Too bad he’s decided to be a pain in the ass!” he added loudly, glaring at Toby in the rearview mirror.
“Dean!” Sam quelled him. Dean really was pure evil. He looked it, too, like a mean thug. Toby hated him.
When they got to the hotel, which was in a part of town Toby had never even been to before, Dean grabbed him and roughly shoved him in the room with a whispered threat about what would happen if he screamed during transit. Sam rummaged in the trunk for a minute, then followed. They had a quiet conversation in the corner, eyeing Toby the whole time, before Dean announced irritably that he would sleep in the car. He grabbed a pillow and a blanket off one bed, and left. Toby couldn’t help feeling a little relieved to see him go.
Once they’d heard the car doors shut, Sam smiled at Toby. “So ... rough night, huh?” he said sympathetically.
“You’re ‘good cop,’” Toby announced baldly. “I’m not falling for it.” Somehow, he wasn’t as afraid of Sam, and he felt like he could safely push him much farther than Dean without coming to any harm.
Still, there was something really scary about Sam’s surprised smirk, like ... like he was already so many steps ahead of Toby that Toby could never outthink him. Toby frowned a little, demoralized, before straightening up and putting on a tough face again. “You caught us,” Sam said easily, “although ... I really wasn’t playing good cop. Just ... Dean was a tough kid. He thinks every kid is as tough as he was, but I wasn’t; I was more like you. So I thought if I got a chance to talk to you and show you that we really are the good guys, maybe you would help us. Your family is in danger. The changeling targeted you. That means there’s already a changeling child in your house, looking like you, and feeding off your mom. It’ll kill your father. Dean and I ... we save lives. We kill monsters. That’s what we do.” He was so convincing, it was almost hypnotic. Toby found himself really wanting to believe him. If it was true ... then the bad guys hadn’t kidnapped him. If it was true, he was with the good guys. Maybe he could help them save the day and become a hero. If it was true, maybe he wouldn’t die tonight. He so didn’t want to die.
“Sarah,” Toby said emptily. He couldn’t ... he just couldn’t believe what had happened to her--what they had done to her.
“Was that the ... the girl you were with?” Sam said eagerly. “Let me guess: she was acting funny, right? Not like herself. Quiet, stiff, staring at you kinda ... dangerously?”
Toby frowned at him suspiciously. “How’d you know?”
“Because that’s how changelings act,” Sam said easily, inspiring confidence. “And ... have you ... noticed other classmates of yours starting to act like that?”
“Brody,” Toby said, surprising himself--he hadn’t meant to give Sam any more information; it had just kind of popped out. The truth was, he felt safe with Sam. Sam was so huge and strong, but seemed so nice, it felt like no harm could come to Toby with him around. That was exactly the kind of guy Toby had always hoped he would one day become.
Sam nodded, obviously happy to have the information, but not in a creepy way like the bad guy in a movie would, smiling sinisterly; he really did act like he just wanted the information so he could do what he said he wanted to do with it and help people. “And ... what’s Brody’s last name?” Sam asked carefully.
Toby wasn’t a dummy. He knew Sam would look up Brody’s address if Toby gave it to him. Toby thought it over. He trusted Sam, he really did ... but maybe not enough to give him his own address. Not enough to risk his own parents. Brody, though ... Brody had always kind of been a jerk. Toby gave him Brody’s last name. “I know where he lives, if you ... you know, want me to take you there.”
“That’d be awesome,” Sam said with feeling, nodding encouragingly, like he was desperately glad for the information, and for one brief moment, Toby felt like a truly important person in this world.
Sam stood up abruptly. Toby didn’t miss him subtly tucking a gun in his waistband before shrugging on his jacket. Sam seemed like he was so happy with the information, he wasn’t thinking of anything else but getting to Brody’s house, but then something else occurred to him, and he turned to Toby, looking troubled. “Uh ... you know, we appreciate the information, but if you come with us ... it might be dangerous for you. You might want to stay here.”
Toby didn’t notice he didn’t mention tying him up, or even anything about his being their prisoner; Toby was only thinking about one thing: finally, a chance to be the hero. “No! I’m coming,” he said. He totally didn’t expect Sam to let him--what adult ever would?--but Sam just nodded and held open the hotel door for him before coming out behind him, knocking hard on the car, and shouting to Dean that it was time to go.
Toby didn’t like Dean. He always had something mean to say, like sniping about Toby “finally deciding to stop being a baby” once he heard Toby was helping them. Now that he was feeling more confident, several choice phrases popped into his head in retort, but he was still too scared of Dean to utter any of them out loud. Why was Dean such a jerk? Toby was being awesome. He was awesomeness, so badass and brave, talking to outlaws (well, one of them, anyway), now giving them attitude, like making fun of them for not knowing their way around town, and mentioning that their old car was crap. Dean should be intimidated ... but instead, whenever Toby said something obnoxious--especially that thing about the car--Dean rolled his eyes at Sam, who also looked amused. “You just gonna put up with that?” Dean asked Sam finally.
Sam eyed Dean seriously. “He’s scared. He wants to feel like he has some kind of power.”
“Nice. That’s gratitude for ya, I guess.”
Toby didn’t know what Sam was going on about. He felt all-powerful. Now that Toby was almost convinced they were the good guys, and that he was living an action movie, he was filled with a sense of their mission. Toby knew, without a doubt, that he was the most important human being on Earth. Everything depended on him. He was Bruce Willis and Will Smith and Matt Damon, saving the world, because he was awesome. He was chosen. He’d go in there, a gun in each hand, take out the bad guys, get the girl (actually, money would be way better), and save the day. These dweebs in their lame car would finally stop making fun of him as they realized his true power. Toby had been waiting for a moment like this all his life. “I think I’ll use a sawed-off shotgun in my right hand,” Toby mused aloud, getting bolder by the second, “and a semi-automatic in my left.”
Dean laughed out loud--not a nice laugh--and eyed Sam again. “So glad you brought this kid. He’s gonna be a big help. Guess you should tie him up after all, keep him outta the way until we’re finished. You didn’t even fill him in on what actually kills this thing?”
“Well, I didn’t figure he’d be doing any of the killing,” Sam said quietly, ignoring the explosion and gunfire sounds Toby was now making. “He’s really ... fraidy.”
That shut Toby up. “Hey! I’m not fraidy, I’m awesome!” Toby declared. “Shut up!”
Dean squinted irritably, also trying to ignore Toby, but didn’t seem to be having as much success. “You know, Sam, none of this matters if we can’t find the mama changeling. Hey, kid, couldja stop acting like a tool for five seconds and tell us if there’s any adult around who’s acting weird, maybe in cahoots with the kids who are acting weird?”
“I’m not a tool; you’re a tool!” Toby retorted.
“Good comeback,” Dean teased him mercilessly. “Didja think that up all by yourself?”
“Dean, do you mind?” Sam said disapprovingly, like he looked down on him for stooping to the level of a kid.
“Yeah, Dean!” Toby said, squirming excitedly all over the backseat, full to bursting with nervous energy. “Grow up!”
Dean was getting this look in his eyes, like ... like he really wanted to punch Toby. But Toby was sure Sam wouldn’t let him, so he leaned over their seats, right next to Dean’s head. “Deenie, Deena, Deeno. What kind of name is ‘Dean,’ anyway? I’ll tell you what kind of name it is: it’s a stupid name,” Toby informed them, tittering. “It’s like ... an old-fashioned name, like James Dean.”
Yeah, Dean was about to blow, and Toby was loving it. Sam and Dean exchanged several looks there in the front seat, as if Dean was begging Sam to let him pummel Toby and Sam was refusing. It was hilarious. When Sam seemed to have succeeded in quelling Dean, Sam turned to Toby. “So ... are there any adults who’ve been acting weird, like ... Sarah and ... Brody?”
“No,” Toby said instantly, now making farting noises. “Wait. Yeah--Mrs. Atkins, my teacher. She’s the one who kept me after school today, and who made me walk home with Sarah.”
“Do you know where Mrs. Atkins lives?” Sam asked eagerly.
Toby had been so scared. Now that he was a little less scared, it was like he couldn’t help pushing the boundaries and finding out what it would take to make them do all the things he’d been so afraid all this time that they would do to him. “What’s it worth to ya?” he said, knowing he sounded obnoxious.
He knew he’d done it when Dean suddenly slammed on the brakes and pulled over to the side of the road, shouting, “What’s your life worth to ya?,” and Toby was abruptly afraid once again that he was about to die. Dean really might do it. Even if he was one of the good guys, he was the good guy with a short fuse and no self-control. He was the kind of loose cannon the other good guys were always trying to keep from doing something crazy like going off on a kid and not being able to stop until he was dead.
“Dean, no!” Sam was saying, and they were fighting over what Sam was afraid Dean would do to Toby. Dean got out of the car, slamming his door behind him. Sam was out of the car at that same moment, running to get between Dean and Toby’s door.
“How can you put up with this?!” Dean exclaimed, pointing at Toby. “I want to kill this kid!”
“’How do I put up with it?’” Sam said sardonically. “I grew up with you, didn’t I? I’m used to it.” Toby dimly realized for the first time that they must be brothers. Toby had always wanted a cool brother to drive around and kill monsters with. All his dreams really had come true tonight ... except for the fact that he was about to get his ass kicked ... and the fact that he still didn’t have a brother. But if all that had already happened tonight could happen, maybe that could happen, too.
Dean yelled, “I was not like that!”
“Dean, you were exactly like that!”
“’Oh, I think I’ll just use a sawed-off in my right hand ....’” Dean was making fun of him. Toby was too scared to be offended. Dean was just about to grab Toby out of the car and beat him up, and he knew it was really going to hurt.
“Well, you knew how to hunt, but the attitude and the random noises, that was standard.”
“I respected my elders!”
“But you didn’t respect me,” Sam retorted. “Cocky little bastards have been giving me attitude all my life,” he said with a slight smirk. “If I can take it, you can, too. He’s only a kid, Dean. Let it go.”
Dean glared dangerously in the window at Toby again for another couple of seconds, then wrenched open his door and got in. Toby thought it was all over and everything was going to be okay now, but then Dean said coolly, “Tie ’im up. I know, it’s a pain in the ass, but if he tries half of what he says he’s gonna when we find the mama, he’ll get himself killed.”
Toby saw the reluctance in Sam’s eyes and tried to use it to convince him not to do it, but, apologizing nicely, Sam did as Dean said. He must be the younger brother. If Toby ever did get a brother, he sure was glad he’d be the older one. It obviously sucked to be the younger brother.
Toby sulked in the car, tied up. Sam and Dean had gathered weapons and another flamethrower from the trunk of the car, locked all the doors, and left him there, saying they’d be back soon, but it had been at least half an hour, and they weren’t back. He craned his head toward the house again. It was still dark in there, although Toby had seen the glow of fire earlier through the windows. He’d assumed that would be it and they would come out then, but they hadn’t.
Sam’s gun was still on his seat; he hadn’t even taken it in there with him. Toby had been brooding on what they meant when they said he must not know what killed the monsters, so he’d thought it over and remembered what they did to Sarah--fire. It must be fire. That must be why he didn’t bring his gun, but it couldn’t hurt to have a gun, could it? That really big gun at least slowed down the T1000 in Terminator 2, even if it didn’t stop it. Meanwhile, here Toby was, missing out on his first and maybe only chance to be a hero. This was bullshit.
He’d been struggling a little all this time, but now he started struggling in earnest, only to find Sam hadn’t had the heart to tie him very tightly. With significant effort, and rope-burn, he was able to squirm out of his bindings. He didn’t know anything about handling flamethrowers, but he’d seen people fire guns on t.v. a million times; he could do that. He grabbed Sam’s gun and stopped instantly at the feel of it. It felt so heavy, so real, so functional. The way Sam treated it was not like a cool, fun thing, but like a simple tool, something he almost always kept to hand in case he needed it. That’s how it felt now in Toby’s hand. It didn’t feel fun; it felt ... heavy, serious.
Toby wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. He wouldn’t tuck it into the back of his pants like Sam did; he was afraid he’d shoot his butt off if he did. Pocket would be even worse, for similar reasons. Finally, he just held it as he shut the car door as quietly as he could and crept up toward the house.
The back door was still open where Sam and Dean must have kicked it in. Toby prided himself on being able to creep along silently like a ninja--he’d been practicing since last summer and he was really good at it now--and he was filled with euphoria that he finally had the chance to put it into action when it counted. Still, his breath was distressingly loud again, his heart pounding in his ears, as he slipped through the door, and he hoped the monster wouldn’t be able to hear him. However scared he was, he just had to take this opportunity to be a hero, he just had to.
Creeping down a hall, Toby didn’t have far to go before he found something: Sam lay unconscious in the middle of the living room floor, all beat up. Toby looked around anxiously for Dean, and found him immediately, crouching in a closet opposite Toby, cornered by Mrs. Atkins ... only this definitely wasn’t the real Mrs. Atkins. This one’s dress was all torn from fighting, she was snickering and taunting Dean meanly, and brandishing a crowbar. Toby saw Dean’s anxious eyes flickering between Mrs. Atkins, Sam, and the flamethrower lying dormant beside Sam ... then his eyes fell on Toby, and Toby saw the exhaustion come over his face as he sighed. He rolled his eyes, but he looked more worried even than he had looked about Sam. He shook his head very slightly at Toby, and motioned him back down the hall with his eyes. Dean was trying to tell him to sneak out again and not let Mrs. Atkins see him. Toby shook his head and mouthed back, “I’m awesomeness!,” really hoping Dean was any good at reading lips. Dean grimaced like he was wanting to kill Toby again, but he had bigger problems at the moment and Toby knew it. Toby grinned despite his terror, but he hated the way Dean really thought he was only going to be a problem. Toby was badass. When was Dean going to figure that out?
Now.
“Hey, Mrs. Atkins!” Toby shouted, and as she turned around sharply, he ran back down the hall, leading her away from Sam and Dean. Sure enough, she came after him ... and she was so much faster than the real Mrs. Atkins ever was.
Toby heard Dean’s muttered curse and his scramble out of the closet, and Toby felt the thrill of success ... until he realized he was trying to outrun an incredibly fast monster and that was it, his whole plan in a nutshell, and he had no follow-up. He fumbled with the gun he was still holding, but she was so close on his heels that he wouldn’t even have time to aim if he turned around and tried to shoot her. Aw, man, why did they always make it look so easy in the movies?!
So he did the only thing he could think of: he turned around and threw the heavy piece of metal at her. Pegged her right in the face, too. It did slow her down for a few seconds--seconds Toby should probably have spent running as fast as he possibly could away from her, but for some reason, he just stood there and stared, as if hoping throwing something at her would somehow be all it took to stop her. She recovered remarkably quickly and, now extra pissed, resumed her advance. Toby was doomed. He stared at her scary face, which for a second didn’t look human at all, too terrified to move.
“Kid, hit the deck!” Dean yelled. Toby glanced past Mrs. Atkins long enough to see Dean had the flamethrower again. Toby didn’t hesitate; he dropped to the floor and covered his head. He felt the heat and saw the glow as the fire passed over him, and didn’t look up until he felt Dean shaking his shoulder and saying, “Kid, hey kid, you all right?”
Toby raised his head and looked around. The monster lay on the floor beside them, quite dead. Dean looked, for once, anxious for Toby’s safety, rather than like he was the main threat to it. For the first time, it occurred to him that he had done every last thing these guys had told him not to. It had seemed like the only choice at the time, but now, with Sam still unconscious on the floor behind Dean, maybe Dean would let him have it. Toby nodded hesitantly.
Dean’s face cracked into a grin. “Kid, that was AWESOME!” He held up his hand for a high-five. Toby straightened up the rest of the way and smacked his hand. “You saved our asses! Come on, help me get Sam.” Dean totally let Toby help him bring Sam around and then find the kids caged up in another room and let them out--and Sarah and Brody really were all right! Toby kept trying to hint to Dean that he should tell Sarah and Brody that Toby had saved the day, but he was too distracted trying to help everybody--the real Mrs. Atkins, too, also caged up in there. It didn’t matter. He would tell all the kids all about it tomorrow at school, and for weeks afterward.
Once they were in the car taking Sarah and Brody home, Toby urged Dean and Sam to tell his parents and Mrs. Atkins of his awesomeness, but Dean insisted the fewer people knew about what happened, the better. This was something of a disappointment, until Toby sat back and realized that would only have been the cherry on top of all he had accomplished tonight, because he really, truly had saved the day. He knew this because Sam and Dean, the first real heroes he’d ever met in his life, said it was so. Toby now knew that when he grew up, he was going to be just like them, saving the world, one monster at a time. Hopefully he would even have a brother by then to do it with. They would be all outlaw and badass just like Sam and Dean. One thing was sure, though: he would have a much cooler car than theirs, and if he ever met a kid as awesome as himself, he wouldn’t take so long to admit his awesomeness. Still, the fact that Dean had been so hard to win over made it feel that much better when it finally came. If even Dean thought he was awesome, it must be true, because he obviously didn’t say it was so unless he was 100% sure it was true. Toby knew he was, and would always be, a hero.
~ The End ~
Author: brightly_lit
Rating: PG for language, a little violence
Genre: gen, outsider pov, casefic
Characters: Sam, Dean, OC
Word Count: ~5,500
Summary: Eleven-year-old action-movie addict Toby's teacher and classmate are acting weird, but that doesn't explain why the two huge guys torch his classmate and kidnap Toby! That's only the start of the night's adventures. Too bad he's the kidnapped victim instead of getting to be the hero.
"Dean was a tough kid. He thinks every kid is as tough as he was," said Sam.
Okay, so it was a little weird that his teacher had insisted his classmate Sarah walk him home. Actually, it was kind of weird that Mrs. Atkins made him stay after school at all, especially so late that it had gotten dark. His parents hadn’t said anything that morning about going out that night, but sure enough, Mom hadn’t come to get him, so Toby guessed it must be true. Still, why did they have Mrs. Atkins watch him? Couldn’t he have just gone over to John’s house? Why Sarah? Toby barely knew her. And why was Sarah acting so weird?
All that seemed normal, though, compared to what happened next. A black car careened across the street and screeched to a halt, headlights on him and Sarah. These two huge guys got out with a flamethrower! One of them grabbed Toby by the shirt and dragged him away from Sarah. Toby yelled at them not to touch them, but then the other one started beating her up!
Toby punched the one holding his shirt in the kidney--or he tried. He’d seen that move on t.v. millions of times, and it always worked, but this guy saw it coming, spun Toby away so he missed, then got him in a hold with both his arms pinned and there was hardly anything he could do--not even bite. Instead, he stomped the guy’s foot and screamed for help. The guy cursed, letting him go--but only for a second. He grabbed Toby, covered his mouth, and tossed him unceremoniously in the backseat of the car, slamming the door, muttering, “Jesus, kid.” Toby heard him through the open driver’s side window as he turned to the other guy, saying, “She dead yet?”
Toby was arrested by this, staring out the window of the car in horror at his dead classmate, or ... that was what he was expecting to see. Instead, the thing on the ground didn’t even look human. Both guys were standing over whatever it was. They torched it a little more, talking about it unconcernedly, as if they did this to elementary-school girls all the time. Toby couldn’t believe his eyes. What kind of nightmare was this from? These guys were monsters, the very, very worst kind of monsters in the whole world. Then, as one, the two guys glanced over at Toby.
Toby scooted across the backseat and threw open the door on the opposite side of the car, as far away from them as he could get, and made a break for it. He didn’t get very far; the tall one caught up to him in seconds, grabbed him up off the ground, saying, “Calm down! It’s okay! We’re not going to hurt you!”
As if. He had to get away from these horrible, bad, child-killing men right now. Toby screamed for help again, kicking, and the guy holding him covered his mouth. “We gonna have to tie him up?” asked the other casually, watching from the driver’s side, kind of amused.
“Look!” said the one holding him, grunting as he withstood the blows from Toby’s feet. He held Toby over what was left of Sarah. “Does that look human to you? That wasn’t a girl, it was a monster, and we killed it. We’re not hurting you; we saved you.” Toby did catch a glimpse of Sarah’s body on the sidewalk--okay, so Toby had enjoyed teasing her, but he never could have imagined something like this happening to her! These guys, these monsters--look what they had done to her! What were they about to do to Toby??
“Yeah, so simmer down and shut the fuck up, kid,” the other one said, “before you attract the rest of the little monsters.” He got in the car, saying, “Come on, Sam.”
“What do we do with him?” ‘Sam’ asked as Toby struggled with all his might.
“Bring ’im. I’m sure one of its other mini-mes is at his place, lookin’ like him and feeding off of Ma. Hopefully we’ll get there in time to save his dad. Hear that, kid? We’re trying to save your dad, so quit being a pain in the ass and start helping us out here.” What was this crazy guy going on about his parents? These guys were planning to hurt his parents, too?? “He might even know where Mama Monster is. Where do you live?” he asked as Sam wrenched open the door and put Toby in the backseat again, more gently this time.
Toby loved action/adventure movies more than any other kind, and he’d always dreamed of being the hero. Terrified as he was, he would at least save his parents’ lives. Then, when he was rescued or when he did finally escape, everyone would talk about what a brave badass he was. “Like I’m gonna tell you,” Toby spat, going for the door to escape.
The driver made a really irritated sound, and then said sharply, “Hey!”
Toby heard a clicking sound, and turned to see a gun trained on him. It’s not like Toby hadn’t been scared this whole time, but for the first time, he was petrified. He’d imagined what he would do if someone pulled a gun on him. He’d imagined something exactly like this a million times. In his fantasies, he always wrested the gun from the bad guy and took control of the situation, but here, facing that cold, lethal hunk of metal for real, suddenly he found he couldn’t move. These might literally be his last moments. His bravado deserted him, the blood drained from his face. He just stared, leaving his body.
The other one was appalled. “Dean, what the hell?” he said, batting at the driver’s hand, trying to get him to lower his gun. Toby wished he hadn’t; he flinched, afraid the movement would make the gun go off, or this ‘Dean’ would be so startled he pulled the trigger.
“It’s lot easier than tying him up. He’ll thank me after I’ve saved his ass,” Dean said unapologetically, although Sam still seemed disapproving. Dean looked back at Toby. “You sit back there and you shut up, and we’ll fill you in as we go.”
They got on the road. Toby sat perfectly still, though Dean had put the gun away, and Sam didn’t seem to want to pull a gun on him, just to grab him and throw him around, each a different kind of bad man. They were going too fast for Toby to jump out the door now. Toby breathed fast, trying to get his brain to work, but all he could do was wonder what they were going to do to him. Were they going to torch him like they torched Sarah? “Why--why did you kill Sarah?” he said, trying to sound strong and brave, but instead it came out almost at a whisper.
Dean said, “The real Sarah is still alive; we just have to find ’er. The deal is, monsters are real. There’s a kind called a changeling. They kidnap kids and feed off ’em--that’s what we just saved you from--you’re welcome--and replace them with their own kids, who feed off the parents until they’re dead. That’s what we’re trying to save your parents from. So, you gonna help us out and tell us where you live?”
So they were crazy. Crazy and mean and evil. They were psychotic, believing they were good. Toby had seen that kind of bad guy on t.v. plenty of times, and they were one of the worst kinds, because they wouldn’t listen to you. Stupid people on t.v. always tried to argue with them, and only ended up making it worse, so Toby stayed quiet.
When Toby still said nothing, Sam turned around, glanced at him, and then gave Dean a disapproving glare. “He’s in shock, Dean! Good work there, pulling a gun on a ten-year-old.”
“Eleven,” Toby mumbled.
“See? Eleven,” Dean retorted, as if vindicated. “He’s fine.”
“He’s not fine! Look at’im!”
Dean shrugged. “I saw a lot worse by the time I was eleven. So did you.”
“We grew up like that. This is a normal kid, with a normal life where this kind of thing doesn’t happen. Could you go easy on him?”
Toby was incredibly relieved. Maybe only Dean was crazy. Sam understood. He was obviously the nicer one. Maybe he would protect Toby from Dean.
Dean had sounded so casual this whole time, but now he spoke sharply. “Easy’ll get him killed! If you really think tying him up is better, then I’ll pull over right now and you can tie him up. That’ll be fun to explain to his parents when we find his house.”
All of Toby’s relief evaporated as Sam glanced back at him again, considered tying him up, then thought better of it, as much as giving Dean permission to shoot him.
Toby couldn’t believe it. He had been kidnapped. He’d seen stuff like this on t.v. He’d fantasized countless times about what he would do in a situation like this, and he was sure he could escape without too much trouble. He’d taken karate and everything. Still, somehow, it was like nothing he’d done had any impact on these guys. It was almost like they hadn’t even noticed his attempts to escape, except to be annoyed by them. He thought about all the times Mom had made fun of him for thinking it would be so easy to beat the bad guys, as he scoffed at the lame people on t.v. shows who usually didn’t even try to escape, and always failed when they did. She’d been right after all. He was too scared to even cry. He just sat silent in the backseat, wishing he would wake up.
The two guys had been talking, but he’d left his body and hadn’t heard what they were saying for a long time, until they started talking about him and what they were going to do with him again. He scarcely dared to breathe, but he was breathing so loud he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to hear them over the sound of it. “We’re out of leads and it’s late; we should go back to the hotel and see if we can ... encourage him to talk.” Toby started breathing louder. Oh, no! They were going to tie him to a chair and beat him up!
“Yeah,” sighed Dean. “Too bad he’s decided to be a pain in the ass!” he added loudly, glaring at Toby in the rearview mirror.
“Dean!” Sam quelled him. Dean really was pure evil. He looked it, too, like a mean thug. Toby hated him.
When they got to the hotel, which was in a part of town Toby had never even been to before, Dean grabbed him and roughly shoved him in the room with a whispered threat about what would happen if he screamed during transit. Sam rummaged in the trunk for a minute, then followed. They had a quiet conversation in the corner, eyeing Toby the whole time, before Dean announced irritably that he would sleep in the car. He grabbed a pillow and a blanket off one bed, and left. Toby couldn’t help feeling a little relieved to see him go.
Once they’d heard the car doors shut, Sam smiled at Toby. “So ... rough night, huh?” he said sympathetically.
“You’re ‘good cop,’” Toby announced baldly. “I’m not falling for it.” Somehow, he wasn’t as afraid of Sam, and he felt like he could safely push him much farther than Dean without coming to any harm.
Still, there was something really scary about Sam’s surprised smirk, like ... like he was already so many steps ahead of Toby that Toby could never outthink him. Toby frowned a little, demoralized, before straightening up and putting on a tough face again. “You caught us,” Sam said easily, “although ... I really wasn’t playing good cop. Just ... Dean was a tough kid. He thinks every kid is as tough as he was, but I wasn’t; I was more like you. So I thought if I got a chance to talk to you and show you that we really are the good guys, maybe you would help us. Your family is in danger. The changeling targeted you. That means there’s already a changeling child in your house, looking like you, and feeding off your mom. It’ll kill your father. Dean and I ... we save lives. We kill monsters. That’s what we do.” He was so convincing, it was almost hypnotic. Toby found himself really wanting to believe him. If it was true ... then the bad guys hadn’t kidnapped him. If it was true, he was with the good guys. Maybe he could help them save the day and become a hero. If it was true, maybe he wouldn’t die tonight. He so didn’t want to die.
“Sarah,” Toby said emptily. He couldn’t ... he just couldn’t believe what had happened to her--what they had done to her.
“Was that the ... the girl you were with?” Sam said eagerly. “Let me guess: she was acting funny, right? Not like herself. Quiet, stiff, staring at you kinda ... dangerously?”
Toby frowned at him suspiciously. “How’d you know?”
“Because that’s how changelings act,” Sam said easily, inspiring confidence. “And ... have you ... noticed other classmates of yours starting to act like that?”
“Brody,” Toby said, surprising himself--he hadn’t meant to give Sam any more information; it had just kind of popped out. The truth was, he felt safe with Sam. Sam was so huge and strong, but seemed so nice, it felt like no harm could come to Toby with him around. That was exactly the kind of guy Toby had always hoped he would one day become.
Sam nodded, obviously happy to have the information, but not in a creepy way like the bad guy in a movie would, smiling sinisterly; he really did act like he just wanted the information so he could do what he said he wanted to do with it and help people. “And ... what’s Brody’s last name?” Sam asked carefully.
Toby wasn’t a dummy. He knew Sam would look up Brody’s address if Toby gave it to him. Toby thought it over. He trusted Sam, he really did ... but maybe not enough to give him his own address. Not enough to risk his own parents. Brody, though ... Brody had always kind of been a jerk. Toby gave him Brody’s last name. “I know where he lives, if you ... you know, want me to take you there.”
“That’d be awesome,” Sam said with feeling, nodding encouragingly, like he was desperately glad for the information, and for one brief moment, Toby felt like a truly important person in this world.
Sam stood up abruptly. Toby didn’t miss him subtly tucking a gun in his waistband before shrugging on his jacket. Sam seemed like he was so happy with the information, he wasn’t thinking of anything else but getting to Brody’s house, but then something else occurred to him, and he turned to Toby, looking troubled. “Uh ... you know, we appreciate the information, but if you come with us ... it might be dangerous for you. You might want to stay here.”
Toby didn’t notice he didn’t mention tying him up, or even anything about his being their prisoner; Toby was only thinking about one thing: finally, a chance to be the hero. “No! I’m coming,” he said. He totally didn’t expect Sam to let him--what adult ever would?--but Sam just nodded and held open the hotel door for him before coming out behind him, knocking hard on the car, and shouting to Dean that it was time to go.
Toby didn’t like Dean. He always had something mean to say, like sniping about Toby “finally deciding to stop being a baby” once he heard Toby was helping them. Now that he was feeling more confident, several choice phrases popped into his head in retort, but he was still too scared of Dean to utter any of them out loud. Why was Dean such a jerk? Toby was being awesome. He was awesomeness, so badass and brave, talking to outlaws (well, one of them, anyway), now giving them attitude, like making fun of them for not knowing their way around town, and mentioning that their old car was crap. Dean should be intimidated ... but instead, whenever Toby said something obnoxious--especially that thing about the car--Dean rolled his eyes at Sam, who also looked amused. “You just gonna put up with that?” Dean asked Sam finally.
Sam eyed Dean seriously. “He’s scared. He wants to feel like he has some kind of power.”
“Nice. That’s gratitude for ya, I guess.”
Toby didn’t know what Sam was going on about. He felt all-powerful. Now that Toby was almost convinced they were the good guys, and that he was living an action movie, he was filled with a sense of their mission. Toby knew, without a doubt, that he was the most important human being on Earth. Everything depended on him. He was Bruce Willis and Will Smith and Matt Damon, saving the world, because he was awesome. He was chosen. He’d go in there, a gun in each hand, take out the bad guys, get the girl (actually, money would be way better), and save the day. These dweebs in their lame car would finally stop making fun of him as they realized his true power. Toby had been waiting for a moment like this all his life. “I think I’ll use a sawed-off shotgun in my right hand,” Toby mused aloud, getting bolder by the second, “and a semi-automatic in my left.”
Dean laughed out loud--not a nice laugh--and eyed Sam again. “So glad you brought this kid. He’s gonna be a big help. Guess you should tie him up after all, keep him outta the way until we’re finished. You didn’t even fill him in on what actually kills this thing?”
“Well, I didn’t figure he’d be doing any of the killing,” Sam said quietly, ignoring the explosion and gunfire sounds Toby was now making. “He’s really ... fraidy.”
That shut Toby up. “Hey! I’m not fraidy, I’m awesome!” Toby declared. “Shut up!”
Dean squinted irritably, also trying to ignore Toby, but didn’t seem to be having as much success. “You know, Sam, none of this matters if we can’t find the mama changeling. Hey, kid, couldja stop acting like a tool for five seconds and tell us if there’s any adult around who’s acting weird, maybe in cahoots with the kids who are acting weird?”
“I’m not a tool; you’re a tool!” Toby retorted.
“Good comeback,” Dean teased him mercilessly. “Didja think that up all by yourself?”
“Dean, do you mind?” Sam said disapprovingly, like he looked down on him for stooping to the level of a kid.
“Yeah, Dean!” Toby said, squirming excitedly all over the backseat, full to bursting with nervous energy. “Grow up!”
Dean was getting this look in his eyes, like ... like he really wanted to punch Toby. But Toby was sure Sam wouldn’t let him, so he leaned over their seats, right next to Dean’s head. “Deenie, Deena, Deeno. What kind of name is ‘Dean,’ anyway? I’ll tell you what kind of name it is: it’s a stupid name,” Toby informed them, tittering. “It’s like ... an old-fashioned name, like James Dean.”
Yeah, Dean was about to blow, and Toby was loving it. Sam and Dean exchanged several looks there in the front seat, as if Dean was begging Sam to let him pummel Toby and Sam was refusing. It was hilarious. When Sam seemed to have succeeded in quelling Dean, Sam turned to Toby. “So ... are there any adults who’ve been acting weird, like ... Sarah and ... Brody?”
“No,” Toby said instantly, now making farting noises. “Wait. Yeah--Mrs. Atkins, my teacher. She’s the one who kept me after school today, and who made me walk home with Sarah.”
“Do you know where Mrs. Atkins lives?” Sam asked eagerly.
Toby had been so scared. Now that he was a little less scared, it was like he couldn’t help pushing the boundaries and finding out what it would take to make them do all the things he’d been so afraid all this time that they would do to him. “What’s it worth to ya?” he said, knowing he sounded obnoxious.
He knew he’d done it when Dean suddenly slammed on the brakes and pulled over to the side of the road, shouting, “What’s your life worth to ya?,” and Toby was abruptly afraid once again that he was about to die. Dean really might do it. Even if he was one of the good guys, he was the good guy with a short fuse and no self-control. He was the kind of loose cannon the other good guys were always trying to keep from doing something crazy like going off on a kid and not being able to stop until he was dead.
“Dean, no!” Sam was saying, and they were fighting over what Sam was afraid Dean would do to Toby. Dean got out of the car, slamming his door behind him. Sam was out of the car at that same moment, running to get between Dean and Toby’s door.
“How can you put up with this?!” Dean exclaimed, pointing at Toby. “I want to kill this kid!”
“’How do I put up with it?’” Sam said sardonically. “I grew up with you, didn’t I? I’m used to it.” Toby dimly realized for the first time that they must be brothers. Toby had always wanted a cool brother to drive around and kill monsters with. All his dreams really had come true tonight ... except for the fact that he was about to get his ass kicked ... and the fact that he still didn’t have a brother. But if all that had already happened tonight could happen, maybe that could happen, too.
Dean yelled, “I was not like that!”
“Dean, you were exactly like that!”
“’Oh, I think I’ll just use a sawed-off in my right hand ....’” Dean was making fun of him. Toby was too scared to be offended. Dean was just about to grab Toby out of the car and beat him up, and he knew it was really going to hurt.
“Well, you knew how to hunt, but the attitude and the random noises, that was standard.”
“I respected my elders!”
“But you didn’t respect me,” Sam retorted. “Cocky little bastards have been giving me attitude all my life,” he said with a slight smirk. “If I can take it, you can, too. He’s only a kid, Dean. Let it go.”
Dean glared dangerously in the window at Toby again for another couple of seconds, then wrenched open his door and got in. Toby thought it was all over and everything was going to be okay now, but then Dean said coolly, “Tie ’im up. I know, it’s a pain in the ass, but if he tries half of what he says he’s gonna when we find the mama, he’ll get himself killed.”
Toby saw the reluctance in Sam’s eyes and tried to use it to convince him not to do it, but, apologizing nicely, Sam did as Dean said. He must be the younger brother. If Toby ever did get a brother, he sure was glad he’d be the older one. It obviously sucked to be the younger brother.
Toby sulked in the car, tied up. Sam and Dean had gathered weapons and another flamethrower from the trunk of the car, locked all the doors, and left him there, saying they’d be back soon, but it had been at least half an hour, and they weren’t back. He craned his head toward the house again. It was still dark in there, although Toby had seen the glow of fire earlier through the windows. He’d assumed that would be it and they would come out then, but they hadn’t.
Sam’s gun was still on his seat; he hadn’t even taken it in there with him. Toby had been brooding on what they meant when they said he must not know what killed the monsters, so he’d thought it over and remembered what they did to Sarah--fire. It must be fire. That must be why he didn’t bring his gun, but it couldn’t hurt to have a gun, could it? That really big gun at least slowed down the T1000 in Terminator 2, even if it didn’t stop it. Meanwhile, here Toby was, missing out on his first and maybe only chance to be a hero. This was bullshit.
He’d been struggling a little all this time, but now he started struggling in earnest, only to find Sam hadn’t had the heart to tie him very tightly. With significant effort, and rope-burn, he was able to squirm out of his bindings. He didn’t know anything about handling flamethrowers, but he’d seen people fire guns on t.v. a million times; he could do that. He grabbed Sam’s gun and stopped instantly at the feel of it. It felt so heavy, so real, so functional. The way Sam treated it was not like a cool, fun thing, but like a simple tool, something he almost always kept to hand in case he needed it. That’s how it felt now in Toby’s hand. It didn’t feel fun; it felt ... heavy, serious.
Toby wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. He wouldn’t tuck it into the back of his pants like Sam did; he was afraid he’d shoot his butt off if he did. Pocket would be even worse, for similar reasons. Finally, he just held it as he shut the car door as quietly as he could and crept up toward the house.
The back door was still open where Sam and Dean must have kicked it in. Toby prided himself on being able to creep along silently like a ninja--he’d been practicing since last summer and he was really good at it now--and he was filled with euphoria that he finally had the chance to put it into action when it counted. Still, his breath was distressingly loud again, his heart pounding in his ears, as he slipped through the door, and he hoped the monster wouldn’t be able to hear him. However scared he was, he just had to take this opportunity to be a hero, he just had to.
Creeping down a hall, Toby didn’t have far to go before he found something: Sam lay unconscious in the middle of the living room floor, all beat up. Toby looked around anxiously for Dean, and found him immediately, crouching in a closet opposite Toby, cornered by Mrs. Atkins ... only this definitely wasn’t the real Mrs. Atkins. This one’s dress was all torn from fighting, she was snickering and taunting Dean meanly, and brandishing a crowbar. Toby saw Dean’s anxious eyes flickering between Mrs. Atkins, Sam, and the flamethrower lying dormant beside Sam ... then his eyes fell on Toby, and Toby saw the exhaustion come over his face as he sighed. He rolled his eyes, but he looked more worried even than he had looked about Sam. He shook his head very slightly at Toby, and motioned him back down the hall with his eyes. Dean was trying to tell him to sneak out again and not let Mrs. Atkins see him. Toby shook his head and mouthed back, “I’m awesomeness!,” really hoping Dean was any good at reading lips. Dean grimaced like he was wanting to kill Toby again, but he had bigger problems at the moment and Toby knew it. Toby grinned despite his terror, but he hated the way Dean really thought he was only going to be a problem. Toby was badass. When was Dean going to figure that out?
Now.
“Hey, Mrs. Atkins!” Toby shouted, and as she turned around sharply, he ran back down the hall, leading her away from Sam and Dean. Sure enough, she came after him ... and she was so much faster than the real Mrs. Atkins ever was.
Toby heard Dean’s muttered curse and his scramble out of the closet, and Toby felt the thrill of success ... until he realized he was trying to outrun an incredibly fast monster and that was it, his whole plan in a nutshell, and he had no follow-up. He fumbled with the gun he was still holding, but she was so close on his heels that he wouldn’t even have time to aim if he turned around and tried to shoot her. Aw, man, why did they always make it look so easy in the movies?!
So he did the only thing he could think of: he turned around and threw the heavy piece of metal at her. Pegged her right in the face, too. It did slow her down for a few seconds--seconds Toby should probably have spent running as fast as he possibly could away from her, but for some reason, he just stood there and stared, as if hoping throwing something at her would somehow be all it took to stop her. She recovered remarkably quickly and, now extra pissed, resumed her advance. Toby was doomed. He stared at her scary face, which for a second didn’t look human at all, too terrified to move.
“Kid, hit the deck!” Dean yelled. Toby glanced past Mrs. Atkins long enough to see Dean had the flamethrower again. Toby didn’t hesitate; he dropped to the floor and covered his head. He felt the heat and saw the glow as the fire passed over him, and didn’t look up until he felt Dean shaking his shoulder and saying, “Kid, hey kid, you all right?”
Toby raised his head and looked around. The monster lay on the floor beside them, quite dead. Dean looked, for once, anxious for Toby’s safety, rather than like he was the main threat to it. For the first time, it occurred to him that he had done every last thing these guys had told him not to. It had seemed like the only choice at the time, but now, with Sam still unconscious on the floor behind Dean, maybe Dean would let him have it. Toby nodded hesitantly.
Dean’s face cracked into a grin. “Kid, that was AWESOME!” He held up his hand for a high-five. Toby straightened up the rest of the way and smacked his hand. “You saved our asses! Come on, help me get Sam.” Dean totally let Toby help him bring Sam around and then find the kids caged up in another room and let them out--and Sarah and Brody really were all right! Toby kept trying to hint to Dean that he should tell Sarah and Brody that Toby had saved the day, but he was too distracted trying to help everybody--the real Mrs. Atkins, too, also caged up in there. It didn’t matter. He would tell all the kids all about it tomorrow at school, and for weeks afterward.
Once they were in the car taking Sarah and Brody home, Toby urged Dean and Sam to tell his parents and Mrs. Atkins of his awesomeness, but Dean insisted the fewer people knew about what happened, the better. This was something of a disappointment, until Toby sat back and realized that would only have been the cherry on top of all he had accomplished tonight, because he really, truly had saved the day. He knew this because Sam and Dean, the first real heroes he’d ever met in his life, said it was so. Toby now knew that when he grew up, he was going to be just like them, saving the world, one monster at a time. Hopefully he would even have a brother by then to do it with. They would be all outlaw and badass just like Sam and Dean. One thing was sure, though: he would have a much cooler car than theirs, and if he ever met a kid as awesome as himself, he wouldn’t take so long to admit his awesomeness. Still, the fact that Dean had been so hard to win over made it feel that much better when it finally came. If even Dean thought he was awesome, it must be true, because he obviously didn’t say it was so unless he was 100% sure it was true. Toby knew he was, and would always be, a hero.
~ The End ~