Title: The Joint
Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me.
Rating: PG13 (language)
Summary: Bartender POV! Even as kids, Sam and Dean were always good at being the bad guys.
His name was Sunny Barro. (Yeah, that's right, S-U-N-N-Y and you better not fucking laugh. Bite your tongue, asshole! It's for your own good!)
Back to it, Sunny Barro; forty-two years old, brown hair, blue eyes, and calm as all shit unless you piss him off. Then, you'd get a bullet in your ass. (Yeah, I'm talking your real fucking ass. He'd think it was funny.)
Sunny Barro owned a bar on the other side of town, home to all the scumbags. It was almost under the bridge and cops didn't check it out just 'cause they didn't want to get dirty. Stupid-asses. (Yeah, I fucking know. I worked there.)
So, you know, it was called The Joint. (No, not The Sunny Joint, smart-ass. How about you just shut your fucking trap before I shut it?)
The Joint was like the fucking swap meet. You could get anything there. There'd be people buying shit outside and tripping out in the bar. There were fucking runners twenty-four hours every fucking day. Kids coming in and out with their backpacks full of shit. No one paid attention.
But there were these two brothers. Oldest was 'bout fifteen.
They came in together every day – dressed like crap; thought they lived under the bridge. The oldest was always carrying the shit. He'd walk up to a buyer and get his cash. Meanwhile, the tiny one's standing there with a hand under his jacket. (Yeah, it was a gun. What the fuck do you think?) A couple times, they'd come with shit to sell; jewelery, designer clothes, even a fucking car once. ('Course it was stolen. The buyer stripped it.)
There was this one time Sunny was downstairs with Jasper and Marc. Jasper - brown eyes, blond hair, big fucker – was in a fucked up mood. Those kids come in. The older one goes up to him. The little one stays back again. He's got his hand in his jacket. Jasper – the big fucking asshole – tries to give him half his pay.
The older one started arguing with him, said he wasn't giving the goods if he didn't get his cash.
Jasper got pissed off.
He got up. He was about to beat the shit out of that kid.
Next thing, the other one – that little kid – he got that gun out and he shot him right in the fucking knee. (He was ten or eleven. I don't fucking know.)
Then, the older one takes out another gun and he nails him right in the other knee. Didn't wait. Didn't fucking care.
Jasper went down. Marc looked like he might just kill the kids. He was looking at Jasper and then Sunny – 'cause he didn't do a thing without Sunny saying 'okay' – but Sunny didn't say shit. He was looking at the kids and then he started laughing. He gave them all their money. They gave him their shit.
They took off.
He went back upstairs.
He left Jasper's ass there on the floor. Big fucker looked like he couldn't breath. He didn't give a shit about that asshole. Marc took him somewhere. (I don't fucking know where. All I know is the asshole didn't come back.)
So – these kids – next time I saw them, Sunny brought them in. The younger one had a bruise covering half his face and the older had his gun out in plain sight. Wasn't taking any chances. Sunny got ice for the kid and they were sitting right there at Sunny's table.
The older one was looking around the bar; probably watching out for whatever fucker gave the other one that shiner.
The younger was watching Sunny out of one eye. Don't know what he said to him but Sunny started laughing again and the older one rolled his eyes. Then, they started arguing about who-knows-the-fuck-what and Sunny just sat there and watched them until the bigger one put the gun away.
He left them after that and they came back the next day with more shit. Sunny took them over to that table again and he started playing poker with them. The next day, he played fucking chess. (I don't know what the fuck was going on. You wanna' ask Sunny?)
They kept coming every fucking day, with goods or not. Sunny would sit right there with them or Marc would play pool with them.
There was one day that Sunny was gone and it was just Marc and his girl with them. Stupid asses gave 'em whiskey. The kids choked on it but they kept drinking. They were fucking drunk when they got out. Probably how their dad caught 'em. (Yeah, I know he caught 'em. Hold your fucking horses.)
They didn't come back the next day and Sunny was sitting at that table waiting. It was the same the next day. I didn't see 'em again until the day after that. Those two boys were with another man. Sunny was out there with them.
That man – stupid fucker – he told Sunny to stay away from his boys. (You know he was fucking insane.)
I thought Sunny was gonna' put a bullet in his ass. He looked pissed off but those kids were standing there and he really fucking like those kids 'cause he didn't do shit. Told the guy to get the fuck out of there.
I thought the guy – stupid fucker – was gonna' argue but he left. He took those boys, got in his car, and drove off. Didn't see him again.
(You need to fucking wait. I'm almost done.)
I saw those boys again once. 'Bout two years later they both showed up looking for Sunny. (I didn't fucking ask why. I like my fucking kneecaps.) They hung around for a few days and took off again. The Joint closed down right after. Lost my fucking job.
(What the fuck do you mean, 'so what'? You asked who they fucking were! What the fuck did you think I was telling you for? Those kids are standing right there. Yeah, that huge-as-fuck one was the younger boy. The older one is right next to him and – shit! – That's Sunny.)
A/N - I was looking everywhere for Dean and Sam being involved with criminals who weren't hunters and I couldn't find anything. So, in desperation, I wrote.
I've never wrote in a storytelling form before. How did it come out?