Well folks, I'm back. I've had this story in my head for a long time, but I lacked confidence to tackle something this large. I've actually been working on two stories, but this one, I focused on for NaNoWriMo this year. I'm still writing the ending, but I'm confident that I can start posting and still finish in time to not keep my readers waiting. There are lots of potential triggers in this, but I'll try and comment at the top of each chapter if I feel anything merits a warning. Thanks in advance for reading.
Dean stepped off the bus and turned the collar of his jacket up. Pausing, he automatically looked for anything concerning, or out of the ordinary. But other than the nippy April wind that was pushing the cold cotton of his jeans against his legs, there was nothing in Butler, Pennsylvania that seemed anything but ordinary.
Turning, he motioned his younger brother off the bus. "Thank you," Sam said to the grumpy middle aged bus driver. Sam practically skipped to Dean's side and the two brothers began the short walk to the shabby motel where their Dad had set them a week ago. Dad had bought some supplies and left a decent amount of money this time. Which told Dean that his father's promise to be "back in a week, 10 days tops" was about as real as the Easter Bunny. Pushing thoughts of Dad out of his mind, Dean threw an arm across the skinny shoulders of his kid brother. Sam's coat wasn't warm enough for the unusually cold temperatures they'd been having, so Dean casually drew the smaller boy closer to share his body heat.
"Dean, did you know that when it's cold, your body experiences peripheral vasoconstriction? It's where the blood vessels near the surface of the skin begin to constrict." Sam grinned up at the older boy, his enthusiasm for science gleaming in his hazel eyes.
"No geek-boy. All I know is it's too damn cold for this time of year and you need to put on your hat," grouched Dean lightly. His own ears were tingling and he zipped the collar of his jacket up tighter before shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his canvas jacket.
Dutifully, Sam pulled a blue and red striped woolly hat out of his pocket and pulled it over his shaggy hair. They were only the length of the parking lot from their room, but Dean didn't want Sam to get cold. Sammy had just gotten over a low level chest cold that had worried Dean. The skinny 10 year old continued to natter on about his science teacher and the experiments the class were working on, but Dean listened with only half an ear. He just wanted to get to their room and begin the Easter long weekend. Although Dad had ordered his sons to keep up their training, Dean's plans also involved too much TV and sleeping in.
The Best Budget Motel was actually made up of three buildings. The largest of the three was a long row of 10 units which faced the parking lot and the road beyond. The other two buildings were at ninety degree angles to the larger row, framing the parking lot like a 3 sided courtyard. On one side there was the motel office with the manager's unit, a coin operated laundry, and a tiny, overpriced convenience store where the boys occasionally bought soda and a few groceries that were too heavy to carry back on the bus from town. Directly opposite the motel office on the other side of the large parking lot was the smallest of the motel buildings with three units. Dad had made sure that the manager put them in the end unit of that building, closest to the road and as far away from the rent-by-the hour activities going on in the other units. Dean knew from experience that motels had thin walls and was glad that Dad has made the extra effort, especially for Sammy's sake. He'd like Sam to learn about certain parts of the "birds and the bees" when he was a little older than he currently was. And they both slept better without the distracting sound effects.
As Dean was unlocking the motel room door he saw the curtains in the unit next to them twitch. He assumed that someone had rented it during the day even though there was no car in front of the unit. Hopefully the new neighbours weren't noisy. Dean checked their own room before ushering his brother into their temporary home. Stepping carefully over the salt line at the door, Sam dropped his bag on the small kitchen table and kicked off his running shoes. He grabbed a book out of his school bag and within a couple of minutes was curled up on one end of the small, lumpy couch. Dean stowed his own school stuff and then began looking to see what was left that he could make for dinner. The cupboards were not bare like they sometimes were when Dad took off on an extended hunt because the plan was to stay in this town until the end of the school year, but Dean knew that things could change. He'd gone hungry before to make sure that Sammy could eat when the money ran out before Dad made it home. He decided that there was enough bread left to have cheese sandwiches with the can of soup.
It wasn't until he and Sam were camped out on the couch well after dinner, that Dean first noticed the sound. A baby was crying next door. Better than sex noises, he guessed, but it was annoying anyway. He turned the volume up on the TV a bit louder and tried to ignore it. But half an hour later and he could still hear the baby wailing. "Geez, somebody go pick up the kid!," he muttered.
"Huh?," said Sam. The youngest Winchester was pretty engrossed in the show they were watching. The opportunity to see the same TV show on a consistent basis was still a novelty.
"Nothing Sam, there's a baby crying next door. Just ignore it," shrugged Dean. But the tension was starting to build in his shoulders. Why wouldn't someone pick up the kid? When Sam was a baby and started to cry, either Dad or he would go almost immediately to check on him. It's not good for a baby to sit in a wet diaper or to cry for so long. Was something wrong with it? Dean hadn't heard any voices or other sounds from the other side of the wall. Had someone left the child alone? Finally when the baby had been crying for a full hour, Dean couldn't take it any longer. He stood up. "Sammy wait here for a minute," he said as he slipped on his shoes, grabbed the key, and moved towards the door.
Carefully closing it behind him, Dean knocked on the door of the adjacent room. Normally Dad wouldn't be happy with him drawing attention to himself, but Dean just felt like something was off. And he'd learned not to ignore his gut feelings. Whenever he did, something bad would happen. Besides, he'd simply say he that he'd knocked on the wrong door if anyone answered. The only noise on the other side of the door was the continued high pitched wailing of a very unhappy baby. Remembering the curtains from earlier, Dean cautiously crept to the window. He hoped he wasn't about to witness some of the lurid goings on that he knew happened at motels like this, but surely people couldn't be getting it on with a baby shrieking non-stop in the same room. With a fortifying breath, Dean peeked in through the slit in the curtains.
The layout of the room was similar to the one he and Sam were in, except that there was only one bed and Dean could see a crib set up in front of the dresser that held the room's TV. The room looked empty, normal and peaceful except for the tiny flailing fists and feet of the little one in the crib. Then Dean spotted two sock clad feet lying on the floor, just visible around the other side of the bed. He knocked on the window, but the feet didn't move. Stepping back Dean considered what to do.
Obviously the infant needed attention and whoever those feet belonged to was either unconscious or dead. Dean wasn't about to call the cops to check. The last thing they needed was any official attention that might knock on their room next door asking for their Dad. And with a baby in distress Child Protective Services would be called and there was no way Dean would risk anyone from that agency being within grabbing distance of Sam. Chewing on his bottom lip and rubbing his chilly arms, the young hunter made a decision. Letting himself back into his warm room, he pulled up his duffle and began to dig around.