TROUBLE IN CHICAGO
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN SUPERNATURAL
A/N:THE POLICE WORK AND DIALOGUE IS SOOOOO NOT ACCURATE SO PLEASE NO JUDGING.
Sam was irritated, his eyes flickered to the disgusting green colored door and back to the man in front of him, his mouth set in a grim line and eyebrows furrowed into an expression of annoyance. He gulped and tugged down the sleeve of a light blue hoodie that was three times his size, the hoodie flooded him in fabric, reaching down to his knees if was standing. The white pants that they had given him were much worse they were cuffed up to his ankles, he looked like a toddler playing dress up. Sam was annoyed with three things, one: They had gotten caught by the FBI during a hunt, two: he wasn't allowed to see Dean, and last but not least, the chair that he was sitting in was too damn tall and left his feet were left swinging over the edge of it. Sam huffed out an annoyed breath and stared at the federal agent in front of him, who was smiling kindly at him from across the white table. Mr. Agent man as Sam decided to call him since he didn't know the man's name, sifted through a manila folder that he had placed on the table when he had came in. Sam took a moment to analyze the man in front of him, he seemed to be in his middle 20's and had short slicked black hair his skin wasn't too white but wasn't tan enough either, Sam frowned this guy could be new but by the way his shoulders were hunched, Sam knew that this man had been through a lot of tough cases and was definitely not new.
"So you're the little one huh? Sam Winchester, age 12. Tell me son how's 7th grade going for ya?"
Sam stared at the agent for a moment before asking quietly.
"It's fine Sir, when can I go see my brother?"
The agent swallowed and ran a hand through his hair, weary blue eyes roamed a bit and Sam knew what answer was coming.
"I don't know son."
Sam's heart sank, and he fiddled with the ridiculously long sleeves, he looked toward the one sided mirror and back to the 'Mr. Agent' man in front of him.
"So Sammy-"
"It's Sam."
"Ok, Sam, do you wanna tell me why you, your brother, and your father were at the graveyard last night?"
Sam wasn't stupid, his father had repeatedly told them how to handle a situation like this, a story that Dean and him had packed down.
"We were visiting our late mother."
Mr. Agent man nodded and wrote it down in his little yellow note pad.
"Are you aware that you guys were digging up a grave of a Mr. Benson Henderson?"
Sam began to play the innocent role.
"Who? W-what? Digging a grave are you crazy?"
Mr. Agent man studied his face for a moment before jotting something down on his note pad and turning his attention to Sam once more.
"So if you guys weren't the ones digging the grave then why is it that we found dirt caked shovels in the back of your car?"
Sam rolled his eyes.
"My brother is a part time gardener."
"Oh really? Then what company does he work for?"
"He owns a solo jobs, since we move a lot to get spending money."
Mr. Agent man hummed and wrote more on his note book.
"Why were you guys in the graveyard in the middle of a thunderstorm?"
"We are supposed to leave to go to our new house so yesterday was the last time to say goodbye."
"Can you tell me why there are guns and knives in the trunk of the car? And jugs of what appear to be 'holy water'?"
"Dad's a hunter, he likes to use different guns on different animals, and knives to kill things like rabbits."
Well that wasn't entirely a lie.
"And the water?"
"Dad's friends with a priest, and this priest believes in evil spirits, so every time we visit he likes to give us holy water, though if you ask me, he's crazy."
Mr. Agent man seemed to be contented with the bullshit Sam was feeding him, scribbling away on his notepad. Sam scratched at the table with bitten nails, he folded his other arm and laid his head on it.
"How long do I have to be in here?"
He was getting really tired of the white walls and the annoyingly loud ticking clock.
"Not much longer, then we will transfer you to a nearby hotel room to stay in while we review the case."
Sam's head shot up.
"What about Dean?"
Mr. Agent man looked at him and back down the report he was reading.
'….Dean and Sam Winchester seem to have a codependent relationship, to be able to evaluate keep occupants apart as much as possible with a possible one hour visitation a day…'
"I'm sorry Sam but you won't be able to see your brother for a while."
Mr. Agent man seemed to be upset as he told Sam, who lifted his head, his mouth opened as if he was about to protest but thought better of it,. Sam went quiet.
"Sam can you tell me where you've been for the past few months?'
Sam groaned and laid his head back down, rubbing at his eyes in frustration.
"I've been at school, and home."
Sam patiently waited for the Agent to write down whatever he thought was important before asking his question.
"What's your name? I mean in all the movies I've seen the agents are supposed to give the subject his or her name am I right?"
Mr. Agent man nodded and shifted the papers he had in front of him around.
"Sorry for the delay my name is Agent Cooper."
'Agent Cooper', Sam stored the information for later.
"Great now I can stop calling you Mr. Agent man."
Sam smiled, acting like any twelve year old boy would act like.
"Hey do you ever do those badass moves like they do in the movies? Like the parkour ones? Oh! Have you ever shot your gun before?"
laughed and rubbed his forehead,
"I wish but all I have is boring paperwork kid, and no I have never shot my gun before."
Sam made a sad sigh.
"So you guys don't do cool things?"
"Well we save people."
"I guess that's true… But what exactly are you saving me from?"
Mr. Cooper sighed.
'Look kid, I can't tell you that."
"Well why not?"
Mr. Cooper ignored him and gathered his 'evidence' back into the manila folder.
"I think that's enough for today."
Sam frowned.
"Do I have to leave now?"
"Yes I'll be driving you to the hotel to meet your bodyguards."
"Woah what? Bodyguards? What are they for?"
stood up from the chair and placed the folder into a sleek black briefcase. He sniffed and stood up, grabbing the suitcase as he did.
"For your protection."
"Protection? From what?"
Sam demanded as he jumped from the chair, stumbling a bit as he tripped over the ridiculous long pants. Mr. Cooper turned around as he reached the door.
"Your father."
And with that left the room, closing the door with a small click. Sam stood dumbfounded for a moment, staring at the puke green door and turned towards the two side mirror.
"What. The. Hell."
/
Dean groaned loudly rubbing at his head with annoyance, eyes crinkling at the jingling sound the cuffs made, these god damn feds won't leave him alone. Agent Smith was sitting across from him with a monotone expression. He shifted in the light blue hoodie and white fitting pants they gave him to replace the wet clothes he had on earlier, he hoped they had given one to Sam. Dean would be pissed if Sam got a cold. Dean smiled sarcastically.
"Hey I know my face is pretty but you gotta stop staring 'cause I'm not getting any hotter than this."
The agent across from him sat forward and clasped his hands together, he stared at Dean for a moment before asking.
"Mr. Winchester-"
"UH, it's Dean, you make me sound like my old man."
"Dean, can you tell me why were you, your brother and your father where in the graveyard last night?"
"We were visiting our late mother."
"So you weren't digging up Mr. Benson's grave?"
"What?! Ew! No are you crazy?"
Dean pulled on his most disgusted and confused face he had on.
"Why would you think that?"
shook his head.
"Nevermind, can you tell me why we found shovels caked with dirt in the back of your Dad's car?"
"Uh because I have my own gardening business duh."
"Oh really?"
"Yup."
Dean popped the 'P'.
"Well then can you tell me one person that you helped garden?"
Dean smiled.
"Miss Paterick, she lives on florence street house 1543."
Mr. Smith nodded and wrote down the information.
"Can you tell me why there were guns in the trunk of your dad's car?"
"Dad likes to hunt up in Canada, uses different guns each time, OCD that man I tell Ya."
"Ok," Mr. Smith wrote down the information.
"Can you tell me what those jugs that look like holy water are for?"
Dean groaned.
"Dad has this stupid priest friend guy that is absolutely obsessed with dark spirits or some shit like that and tells dad to carry them around 'Just in case' but I honestly believe that man is crazy."
"Alright."
Mr. Smith's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he jotted down the answer.
"Hey Mr. 'Sherlock' when can I leave this hell hole?"
frowned at the newly made nickname but didn't comment on it.
"After a few more questions, then we'll move you to a nearby hotel to place you in until the case is over."
"Woah…"
Dean sat up from his slouched position.
"W-what about Sammy? Are we gonna be in the same room, you guys aren't gonna keep us separated are you?"
stared at Dean for a moment pausing in his search of looking through his documents.
"I'm afraid that you won't be able to see your brother for a while."
Dean growled, and leaned forward.
"What?"
"I am aware that you have understood what I have said yes?"
"Of course I'm not deaf, but I don't understand why you are keeping me and my brother apart."
Mr. Smith folded his hands back together and leaned back in his seat.
"I am afraid that I cannot tell you why."
"But-"
"Enough, Dean the sooner you answer my questions the sooner you can go to your hotel room."
Dean growled and rubbed furiously at a forming headache.
"Yeah sure whatever."
"Good… Now where were we? Ah yes-"
/
John sat in his interrogation room with a bored look on his face. The door leading to freedom opened and two well dressed men walked in and sat down across from him. John fiddled with the cuffs in front of him.
"So… What am I in for boys?"
The man with short blond hair spoke first.
"I'm sure you're well aware of why you're in here Mr. Winchester."
"You're right, What did you do to my boys?"
This time the one with black hair spoke up.
"I assure you that your boys are in safe hands. Now if you stop your lolly-gagging we can get straight to the point here."
"I am Agent Dallece and this-" He pointed to the black haired man. "Is Agent Ford."
"Mr. Winchester why were you digging up Mr. Benson's body yesterday?"
John frowned.
"Hold up, you guys got me here on the charges of Credit Card fraud and insurance fraud. Why are you asking me about this "Benson" fellow?"
Agent Ford looked down at his report and looked up at John.
"Yes I suppose we do have you down on these accounts but we also got a police dispatch that you were arrested at the graveyard yesterday next to a dug up grave with two minors with you."
"So?"
"So?" Dallece said angrily; "Are you some sort of sick fuck who thinks it's cool to dig up graves and burn the bodies inside while your kids watch?"
"I don't know what your talking about! I would not subject my kids to that sort of life-style who do you think I am?"
Dallece stood up shoving his ebony finger in John's face.
"We know all about you Winchester, we've been following you and your boys for months, I think you're the type of sociopath who would put their kids in danger just for the heck of it."
John's blood went cold.
"What?! I would never-"
"We saw you burn three more bodies like you were going to do last night John so spill it, why are you doing this? What are you aiming to do? Make your children so fucked up that they become you? Did you go crazy after your wife died?"
John gritted his teeth, on the inside he felt relief that they hadn't found out that he was a hunter.
"Do you take it out on your kids John?"
John's head snapped up at that statement."
"What?!"
"Are you so angry that you take it out on Dean and Sam? Is that why they have so many scars?"
John growled jolting forward in his seat.
"How dare you suggest that to me?! I would never hurt my boys!"
Dallece smiled and sat back down.
"Sure, whatever you say Mr. Winchester."
John glared angrily at them, he needed to get out of here, he needed to find his babies and get the hell outta dodge.
/
"So Sam...Are you hungry for anything specific?"
Sam didn't answer focusing his attention to the view passing by in the car window. His fingers tapped against the lightly fogged glass. After the answer Mr. Cooper had given him Sam had stayed oddly silent, following Mr. Cooper around obediently. Cooper stole a glance at the small boy next to him and felt a small pang of pity for Sam, a kid his age shouldn't even be involved with this let alone the FBI. He saw a fast food restaurant called Mc. Renelds up ahead and pulled into the drive thru since the boy neglected to answer the previous question.
"Are you allergic to anything?"
Cooper asked as he pulled the car to the menu, he turned his gaze to Sam who didn't answer verbally, only shook his head 'no'.
"Alright, do you want anything specific? You can order whatever you want."
Sam just stared at him with blank eyes and a frown on his face.
"Alright burger it is."
Sam returned his stare out the window, laying his head against the window. Mr. Cooper turned around and ordered their food. The ride to the Morning Star Hotel after that was silent, only filled with occasional halfhearted conversation starters from Mr. Cooper. Once inside the lobby Sam noticed the way people were staring at them, their eyes were full of pity, Sam scowled at them, he didn't need their pity. He had to wait until he was alone to find out a plan to get them out of this mess, he'd start planning tonight. Cooper lead the small kid to his hotel room, outside of the door stood two really tall and buff men, Sam cowered slightly at the sight of them.
"Sam meet your bodyguards Greg and Ed, they will be here to escort you and protect you."
Sam frowned and looked towards the ground.
"Can I go to bed now?"
Mr. Cooper sighed and turned his weary eyes towards the kid, he knelt down and handed to boy his food, in which Sam gingerly took. He grasped the kids shoulder gently.
"Look kid, I know things might be bad now but it'll get better."
Sam huffed.
"Thanks…"
nodded dejectedly and handed the body guards the room key.
"He is not allowed to leave or go anywhere without you guys."
They nodded.
"Oh and make sure he eats, it doesn't have to be a lot but make sure he eats ok?"
"Yes Sir."
"Have a good night," He ruffled Sam's hair. "Get some rest kiddo, your duffle bag in in there, we rescued it from the car."
"Goodnight Mr. Cooper."
"Goodnight kiddo."
Sam waited patiently for the guards to open the door and walked inside the room, one of the guards following, the last thing Cooper saw from Sam that night was a dejected stare.
