-Believe-

"Hello? Mr. Giles? My name is Sam, I found your name in my Dad's journal. The journal said that you know about unusual creatures and demons so I decided I needed to call you since my Dad and Dean won't listen to me."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.

"Hello Sam, could I ask who your father is? I am afraid I have rather a lot of contacts and I sometimes get them confused."

"Winchester, John Winchester is my Dad."

"O-oh. Er, I am sorry, but I can not help you. If you really do need help with something then call someone closer to you than England."

There was a click and silence on the other end. Sam sighed in frustration and hung up as well. Even in England his Dad had made people mad at him! He sat dejectedly in the hallway for several minutes until a squeak at his feet caught his attention. It was one of the many dozens of bunnies from his closet. It was bowing at his feet, squeaking about gods and messiahs returning to give their blessings. It must have followed him from upstairs.

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"Dad! The dust bunnies are trying to worship me again!"

"Sam, what have I told you! There is no such thing as sentient dust bunnies! Now quit stalling and go to sleep!"

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"Dean, the dust bunnies want me to be their god."

"Alright Sammy, what ever you say. Hey, why don't you have them sit under the table and eat our veggies for us?"

"But dust bunnies don't eat veggies."

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed in irritation. He had better things to do that listen to his brother go on about sentient pink dust bunnies. He looked up from cleaning his Dad's gun collection and gave the younger boy a patronizing smile.

"What do they eat then."

"Grapes and Irish cheese."

The look Dean shot Sam was so bewildered that Sam had to stifle a giggle. He knew that no one believed him about the bunnies, and it was so frustrating that his brother and father, both of whom believed in and actively hunted creatures that most other people would think them crazy just for talking about, would not believe him. Him! Who never lied unless there was a legitimate reason, and who would spill his guts to his father with a mere glance from the older man.

He would have captured one of the little bunnies and just showed it to his Dad and Dean as proof, but the little critters were fast, and obviously did not want anyone but Sam to see them. He supposed that he could just order one to show itself to his dad or brother. But he knew that most likely both of their reactions would be to shoot first and ask questions later, and Sam felt that the tiny pink bunnies were too cute to be squashed or shot.

00000

The day his Dad finished up his hunt in the sleepy little town was a sad day. Dean quietly complained as he packed up his meager possessions, unhappy at having to leave behind a pretty neighbor girl who let him touch her boobs on a regular basis. Dad could be heard cussing and swearing as he argued with one of his hunting contacts over the phone, trying to secure them a place to stay for the next hunt that was not a seedy hotel room or broken down one room apartment. As for Sam, he was crouched in his closet, sniffling quietly and looking down at his 'subjects' as they wailed in tiny voices and threw themselves upon his feet, begging him not to forsake them.

He tried consoling them the best he could but they would not be soothed. They cried and followed him to the top of the stairs, but no further as he dragged his backpack down the steps and made his way outside to the Impala. As the sleek black car carried him from the house and the bunnies, Sam could not help but gaze out the rear window and feel sad. He had learned during his time in that house that there were some strange beings in the world that were not evil like the things he and his family hunted. He was also slightly disappointed. He had liked being worshipped.

Later that night as Sam huddled against Dean in the back seat of the Impala trying to sleep, his light doze was interrupted by a quiet but quite audible squeak from his bag where it rested on the floor behind the drivers seat. A tiny pink dust bunny peered out at him from an unzipped flap. He blinked and grinned tiredly as Dean's breath hitched and he felt his brother tense up. Maybe they would believe him now.

Anyway, disclaimer time!

I do not own or claim to own any characters, items, settings, etc. that are recognizable as belonging to either the tv show Supernatural, or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I make no profit from their usage.