A/N: This is my first piece of fictional writing since I left school more than a decade ago, so it would be an understatement to say that I'm pretty nervous about posting this. Reviews would be greatly appreciated, both the good and the bad. Thanks!
Dean is 15 and Sam is 11.
Bronx - New York City.
"Is it ready yet Dean? I'm hungry and you said it would be ready ten minutes ago" whined Sam, glancing down at his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes.
"It would've been ready a lot faster if you'd got off your butt and helped me" Dean replied, stirring the simmering pot before glaring at his little brother, his irritation plainly evident.
"Dad said you were in charge of cooking and you're always nagging me to follow his orders" Sam quipped.
"Then quit your whining you- "
The rest of Deans retort was interrupted by a loud knock at the door, making both brothers jump. Sam looked over at him questioningly but Dean just shrugged, he had no idea who it could be, their dad had rung earlier that morning to say he'd been delayed and now wouldn't be back for a few more days and it wasn't like they were expecting visitors. Dropping the spoon he was holding into the sink he walked cautiously over to the door, stopping in front to glance through the peep hole. He relaxed slightly as he recognized Greg, the middle aged, balding guy from behind the desk when they'd checked into the motel a week ago. Unlatching the chain then unlocking the door, he pulled it open.
"Your dad 'round kid?" Greg asked, arching his neck in an attempt to peer past Dean and into the room. "Rents due and I got people here looking for a bed if you ain't gonna stay".
"Uh, he's in the shower but I'll let him know you came by" Dean replied quickly, already starting to push the door close. Despite having made sure the weapons were carefully hidden he didn't want to have to try explaining the salt lines in front of the door and windows.
"Tell him he's got half an hour to pay up, otherwise you're gonna have to look for another place to stay tonight" was the muttered reply before he turned away.
Dean pushed close the door, making sure it was locked properly, before leaning back against it and scrubbing a hand down his face. He'd guessed that his dad had planned to stay at least another night after he'd returned from the hunt and so had presumed the room was paid for until at least tomorrow.
Walking over to the unmade bed closest to the door, he grabbed the duffle bag sitting on top and rummaged around until he found the extra cash John had handed over before he'd left. Shoving the bundle of notes into the front pocket of his jeans he glanced over to Sam who was now flicking through a magazine on the table.
"Sammy, I've just got to run to the office, make sure you lock the door behind me and watch that stew. If it boils over you'll be the one cleaning up the mess!"
Sam didn't bother to look up from whatever he was reading, choosing to instead wave his hand in a mock salute to acknowledge that he'd heard.
"Jerk" Dean mumbled under his breath as he grabbed his jacket from the back of the headboard where it had been tossed earlier. Slipping his arms though the sleeves and pulling it over his shoulders he once again unlocked the door and stepped out of the room.
Pulling the jacket tighter around him, Dean's eyes wondered across the desolate space in front of the motel, carefully scanning the area for any possible trouble. Graffiti decorated the boarded up buildings opposite and he was sure that some of the cars parked in the lot beside hadn't moved in years, judging from the size of the weeds snaking up from the cracks in the seal beneath. John had definitely picked out a hotel on the dodgier end of the scale, even for them, though in his defense there weren't really all that many options to choose from in New York City that was within their price range. Dean doubted his dad would have even taken the hunt, except for the fact that it was a favor for some old marine buddy of his. Thankfully the room they'd been given had been more or less clean and both the television and radiator worked, providing some relief from boredom as well as the chill of the late November air.
Once he was satisfied nothing was amiss and that Sam would be okay for a few minutes alone, Dean headed towards the motel office, knocking twice on the door to get the guys attention before he was buzzed inside. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the scrunched up notes before carefully counting out the amount needed. "We need to stay for three more nights" he said, placing the cash down on the counter.
"Then you're gonna need more cash kid, this ain't gonna cover it" Greg replied, snatching up the wad of notes and holding them up, a smirk on his face.
"My dad was paying fifty a night, that's exactly what I've given you".
Greg swung his chair round and pointed towards the tatty hand written price list pinned to the board behind him. "Your dad was paying the weekly rate, any shorter than that and you get charged the daily rate which is fifteen bucks more a night".
Grumbling, Dean handed over his last fifty before pocketing the five dollar bill he was given in change.
"Sorry kid, but rules are rules you know, can't just go changing 'em for anybody" called out Greg as Dean turned to leave, making no attempt to sound the least bit apologetic. Dean resisted the urge to flip him off.
Heading back in the direction of their room he rubbed his forehead absentmindedly as he attempted to figure out how he was going to stretch out the remaining cash in order to keep them both fed for the next few days until their dad returned. Too busy juggling sums and prices in his head, Dean failed to notice the silver station wagon that had just parked up nearby.