Disclaimer: In no way do I own the rights to Supernatural, and no copyright infringement is intended here.
A/N: I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who's taking time out of their day to read my ficlet here. You all must be dropping crumbs of motivational goodness or something that my muse is sucking up and hoarding, lol. I haven't written anything in years, and all of a sudden I'm dropping tidbits left and right. Keep it up, ladies and gents! =P
Tristan is Joe Average. Unremarkable. Average looks, average job. What is remarkable about him is his home. More specifically, his basement. And his special interests. So when he spots the young boy—no more than thirteen—running from the store clerk, he stops them and offers to pay for the goods.
When the boy leaves with him—dark blond hair, green eyes, beautifully shaped mouth—Tristan asks him a favor. Modeling for photos in return for his kindness. After all, one kid doesn't need that much food. He smiles when Dean nods warily. The kid never even suspects the chloroform.