Chapter 3
(Revised)
For the first week, Sam and Dean left their sister alone for the most part, and Taylor was okay with that. She kept to her room, all day but her brothers encouraged Taylor to come out for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The boys could also tell the kid was studying them by the look in her eyes. When they would return a look, trying to give her a kind smile, Taylor would look away. She still wouldn't talk unless at night, while she was sleeping. Every night was filled with nightmares. Sam and Dean had a guess what they were of, but Taylor wasn't going to "share and care," with them.
At least not yet.
Around lunch time, on Friday, Sam had noticed they were low on food. So, he suggested they'd go shopping.
Sam let Taylor know and told her to get ready. Taylor had been drawing in her notebook again, this time drawing a lizard, sunbathing on a rock. It made him wonder if she learned that on her own or if someone taught her. Either way, Taylor had talent and Sam wanted to encourage his sister any way he could.
The three of them walked outside to the Impala. Sam offered the front seat to Taylor, but she just slid into the backseat.
Taylor stayed pinned to the door on the passenger side as she stared out the window. Dean adjusted the rearview mirror where he could see her out of the corner of his eye. That was when he got a good look at her attire. Taylor had on an oversized T-shirt, with a picture of a white-tailed deer and worn out jeans with holes in the knees. As they were walking out to the car, Dean had noticed her tennis shoes were falling apart and could bet possibly a size or two, too small.
What also caught his eye, sticking out from the neck of Taylor's shirt where it was hanging off her shoulder, was a light purplish bruise. Taylor must have noticed because she quickly yanked her shirt up, covering it.
Sam saw the look Dean had and looked back at their sister in time to see her pull it up. He looked back at him, clueless. "What?"
"I'll tell you, later."
Sam wasn't sure what was going on but dropped it, anyways. For now.
Before they grocery shopped, Dean noticed there was a mall, nearby and stopped there, first. It wasn't an usual occurrence he would agree to a mall, but that was where the kids were shopping these days, right?
"Dude, why are we stopping here, for?" Sam was looking around at their surroundings.
"I'd figure while we were out, we could get Taylor some clothes that fit her," he suggested.
Sam looked back at Taylor, noticing the oversized T-shirt, too. He turned his head back towards Dean. "What if that's the style she likes?"
Dean considered that. He twisted around in his seat, draping his arm across the back. Dean knew it was a long shot, but he tried anyway. "So you like your clothes baggy on you? Or, would you like new clothes that would fit better?" All he got was a shrug from one shoulder. He looked over at Sam, looking back at their sister. "I'm not really a mall kind of guy. But if you want new clothes, I would suck it up for you. I don't even do something like this for Sam, here." He didn't think Sam would shop at a mall either, but was trying to make a point.
Taylor fidgeted, rubbing her hands together in her lap.
"It's up to you, kiddo," he shrugged. "Tell ya what. If you don't mind new clothes, I'll know when you get out of the car. How's that?"
Taylor hesitated before eventually, she opened her door and got out of the Impala. Dean and Sam followed, suit and the three of them walked up to the main entrance. The moment they stepped inside the two-story building, the smell of Cinnabon hit their nostrils.
Since it was during the week, it wasn't too packed. There was a thin crowd, walking around, some carrying shopping bags from various stores. The Winchesters walked around, looking for a store Taylor would like. Sam and Dean were in front while Taylor brought up the rear, a few feet back, watching the floor. At one point, the brothers turned a corner.
After a few minutes, Dean asked over his shoulder, "See anything you like, kiddo?" He expected no answer so Dean looked back to check for a head nod or shake. When he looked around, Dean saw Taylor was gone. Stopping in his tracks, he looked around where they had come. "Taylor?"
The sudden question made Sam stop walking, looking back, as well. Both of them anxiously looked around, their faces full of worry.
"Taylor?" Sam called out, followed by Dean.
They traced their steps, looking everywhere.
"Did we seriously just lose our sister at the mall?"
Dean looked in every direction. "Oh God, I hope not," he muttered out loud. He raised his voice to call out, "Taylor? Can you hear me? Taylor!"
"Taylor!" Sam continued to call out, as well.
They hurried around the place.
Once they got back to the corner they had turned, Sam and Dean looked down opposite directions. Dean told Sam to go right where they had come in, while he headed left, dashing past the coin fountain that was in the middle of the intersection.
"Taylor, where are you?" Dean stopped, several stores down the tiled "street," to look around and catch his breath. His heart beat faster than normal. Worry was spread all over his face as he grabbed at his hair.
Moving on, Dean took off again, not wanting to waste any precious time. He could bet the kid was probably scared out of her mind, by now. Then it hit him. She could be hiding. Dean noticed whenever Taylor got scared, she would hide. That must have been her defense mechanism.
So, Dean started checking under benches and behind carts, vendors, and trash cans. Where ever he thought she would hide, and checked inside stores. He also called Sam, to let him know what to do.
He dashed into some women's clothing store, checking inside racks of clothes. Nothing. This was a huge place so it could take at least an hour to find her. Dean finished there and moved on, hurrying over to a trash can to look around there.
Walking past a side hallway that led to the restrooms, Dean stopped himself, having to catch himself before he tripped. He dashed down the hallway, rushing into the women's restroom without much thought. Screams from a few women erupted as he checked each stall, apologizing when the occupant wasn't Taylor.
"Sorry, looking for my little sister that got lost," he assured one of them. Taylor was not in any of the stalls. Dean apologized one last time and begged them not to call security before dashing from the restroom. Desperate, he checked the men's room. No luck there either.
Dean was at his wit's end. What if they never found her? What if something happened to her? What if Taylor got kidnapped? His mind was coming up with the worst possible scenarios.
Back across the hallway, to the main "street," Dean bumped into someone, who was backing up. He made to apology when he saw who it was. "Taylor!" Dean suddenly wrapped his arms around his sister, in relief. "Oh, thank God," he said, holding onto her, tight. "I thought we lost you."
Taylor was trying to break free of her brother's grip, freaked out of her mind. Not just of the sudden separation, but Dean hugging her, as well.
Dean stepped back, kneeling on one knee. "Are you okay?" he asked her, his eyes darting around, checking to make sure Taylor wasn't hurt. She broke from his grip, stepping backwards. "I'm sorry, Taylor. We thought you were right behind us the whole time. I should have been looking out for you, better. It won't happen again, I promise."
Taylor watched him, her chest moving, rapidly. Tear stains were on both sides of her face.
"You were probably just as afraid, if not more, huh?" Dean couldn't help give his sister, a smile, "If it's any consolation, I ran into a girl's bathroom, looking for you." He stood up, "Come on. Let's go find Sam."
Dean fixed her shirt collar for her before he started walking back towards where Sam was. Taylor hesitated until Dean looked back over his shoulder, stopping to wait for her. Then she started walking, as well.
The moment Sam came into view, he made a beeline for his sister, pulling Taylor into a hug just as Dean had done. When Sam felt her, struggle against him, he remembered and let go.
"I'm so glad you're alright," Sam also told her, relieved. "I was so worried about you."
Taylor repeatedly looked between her older brothers, an overwhelming look on her face.
The siblings ended up going to Sears, letting Taylor pick out any kind of clothes she wanted. It took some time and convincing, but Taylor picked out a few pair of jeans and boys' T-shirts, striped and plain, and a couple anime t-shirts from a store called, Hot Topic, of Dragonball Z and My Little Pony, the current series. The brothers also got Taylor, a new pair of tennis shoes and a sweatshirt. In fact, the moment they got out of the store, Dean had Taylor change into them and throw away the old, sad-looking shoes. If it could, one of the shoes could talk if it wanted to.
Afterwards, they got food from the food court before leaving the mall.
On the way home, Dean finally stopped at the grocery store. Everything seemed to go smoothly there. No other separations, this time. Dean let Taylor pick out a cereal since they were low on Lucky Charms. It wasn't Lucky Charms she chose. Instead, she chose Cheerios, and let her choose a couple snacks for movie night.
On the way home, Dean turned the radio on. He couldn't help catch his sister's lips moving as if she was singing along to herself. Dean couldn't help let out a smile.
"Proud of ya, Taylor," he told her, looking ahead at the road, glancing at Taylor.
Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw a look of surprise in her brown eyes. It was amazing how much of their father he could see in her. Even her nose was like John's.
Dean pulled up to the bunker, parking out front. All three of them carried in the groceries, putting them away in the kitchen. Taylor disappeared, back in her room when everything was put away, and Sam asked Dean for the keys, stating he had another errand to run by himself. Dean tossed their brother, the keys, telling him to pick up some beer, too since they forgot while at the grocery store.
Sam assured him, he would, and headed back outside, getting in under the steering wheel. He drove to a craft store Sam had noticed was across from the grocery store, and asked one of the associates where the sketchbooks were. The associate was around late teens, probably a high school senior. She told him, they were in aisle four. Sam thanked her and headed in that direction.
The whole aisle had sketchbooks of different sizes and art styles. Charcoal, pastel, watercolor, and regular pencil drawing. That was what Sam was looking for. The next decision he had to make: what was the right size? Normal size? Larger? Huge? Small?
After a few minutes, Sam decided on just a regular sized sketchpad, grabbing the one on top, and looked around the store for pencils and colored pencils. The pencils weren't that far away, grabbing a pack with several of them. The colored pencils, Sam found, clear, on the other side of the store, grabbing a 64-pack of Crayola colored pencils. He paid for everything, up front at check-out.
The cashier was the same associate from before. "Find everything, all right?" she asked Sam as she rung up the items.
Sam gave her a smile. "Yeah. Thanks, again."
"No problem," she replied and told him, his total.
Sam pulled out a twenty dollar bill and handed it to the associate after she bagged everything.
She took it, opening the register and counted out his change, passing it to him, along with the receipt. "You getting into drawing or something?"
"Uh, no," he shook his head and grabbed the bag from the conveyor belt. "I can barely draw stick figures. My sister is the artist. But she's drawing out of a notebook. So, I figure a sketchbook would be better. You know, without those blue lines going through and ruining the drawing."
"That is awesome. Wish my brother was as sweet as you," she smiled at Sam. "Mine's an asshole."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
She shrugged. "I love him. He just can't seem to keep his trap, shut. Well, have a good day, sir."
"You, too." Sam waved as he headed for the exit, heading back out to where he had parked the Impala.
Sam slid in, setting the bag on the seat next to him before taking the keys out of his pocket and started the car. Pulling out of the parking space, he drove home, stopping for beer on the way.
When he got back, Sam tossed the keys onto the table, setting the case of beer with them. "Let me guess, Taylor in her room again," he asked Dean.
Dean was on his laptop, searching the web. "Yup. Ever since we got home." He looked over at his brother, curious. "Where did you go, anyway?"
Sam walked around to the other side of the table, across from Dean. "Went and got Taylor, a little something," he said.
Dean peeked inside the bag and saw the sketchbook, pencils, and colored pencils. "You got her an art set?"
He was pulling off his jacket. "Yeah. I figured every artist should have the right tools"
Dean nodded at that. "Hey, since we had a late lunch," he changed the subject. "Why don't we start our movie night and eat junk food, the rest of the night?"
"Dean, that is unhealthy," Sam reminded his brother. "Even for you."
"So? What's wrong with eating junk food for dinner, every once in a while?" he shrugged, receiving a hard look from him. "I'm not saying, do it every day, or even once a week."
Sam gave in with a defeated sigh. "Sure. But, just this once. And, we have that frozen pizza we brought, today." He headed for the bedrooms. "I'll let Taylor know we're starting the movie." Sam headed down the hall, hanging his jacket up in his room and headed for Taylor's.
He knocked, first, telling her, he was coming in and opened the door, slowly.
Taylor was back at her desk, in her pajamas again, finishing her drawing of the lizard.
"Hey, we're starting movie night. Come pick out a movie before Dean does," Sam told her.
There was no response. Taylor was focused on her drawing like before.
"Taylor," he tried once more. Still nothing. He cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone, "Taylor."
When that didn't work, Sam let out a sigh. He moved closer to her, touching her shoulder. The sudden touch made Taylor jump out of her seat.
"I'm sorry," he told her, gently. "I tried calling you from there," Sam motioned towards the doorway. "You couldn't hear me so I had to get closer."
Her eyes stared up at Sam.
He gave her a smile before Sam told her, "I got you something. Want to see what it is?"
She watched him, not moving.
Sam turned around, motioning for Taylor to follow. "Come on."
Taylor followed Sam, back to the main room.
Dean was in the other room, hooking his laptop to the projector they both purchased since they had a screen for it.
Sam led Taylor over where he had left the bag. He picked it up by one of the handles and pulled out the sketchbook and pencils, holding them out to her. "Here, for your drawings."
Taylor stared at the art stuff.
"You like it?"
Taylor stared at them for a long time. Suddenly, out of nowhere, she slammed her hands on top, throwing them across the room. Taylor then started pounding her fists at her brother, landing the first punch at his side.
Thankfully, Sam blocked the next ones, holding onto her wrists. "Whoa. Easy there."
She struggled, trying to fight him, rage obviously blinding her. Dean had returned at that point and hurried over to help. He took a hold of their sister's upper arms to pull her, back. Taylor turned on him, making Dean pull her in a tight hold.
"Taylor, settle down," he told her, struggling against her jerks. "Hey!" Dean ended up, headbutted in the jaw. He had to shake it off to focus on calming down Taylor. "Come on, kiddo." Dean ended up, wrestling his sister to the floor as Sam watched his younger sibling try to fight his oldest sibling, helpless on what to do.
Dean just held on until Taylor finally stopped, giving her comforting words. "It's okay, kiddo. It's okay. Everything's gonna be alright." He tried to glance up at Sam, exchanging a quick look with him, who only shrugged, and looked back down. "Come on, Taylor. Take it, easy."
After a minute, Taylor grew tired and stopped, breathing hard towards the floor. She realized Dean was still holding her and pulled away, falling back onto her bottom and hands. Taylor eyed her oldest brother, like a deer caught in headlights and quickly got to her feet, running back to her room.
Sam and Dean watched her. Dean turned forward, dropping his head before standing up.
"What happened?" he asked Sam.
Sam shrugged, once again. "I don't know. I gave her the sketchbook and everything and she freaked out." He held a hand out towards where the stuff had landed, "tossed it out of my hand."
Dean looked at his brother, confused.
"Her file says, Taylor lashes out at foster moms and other female caregivers. So, why me?"
"Simple. Maybe she thinks you're a girl," he teased his brother. "Could be the hair confusing her."
Sam glared back at him. "Ha ha, very funny."
Dean ended up checking on Taylor. He knocked before coming in. Taylor was laying on her bed, on her side. She was clutching her dolphin in her arm as she held the photo in the other, staring at it. When she saw Dean, Taylor sat up, flinching backwards.
"Whoa, whoa," he held up his hands. "I'm not here to hurt you and you're not in any trouble. I just wanted to come check on ya."
Taylor watched her oldest brother, clutching her dolphin to her chest. Remaining cautious, Dean headed over to the bed, squatting beside it, holding on for balance.
"Where did you go, a bit ago, Taylor?" he asked her, softly. "When Sam tried giving you, that stuff? What made that episode of yours, trigger?"
She shifted onto her legs, keeping an eye on Dean.
Dean could see her eyes full of fright and timidness. Her whole form seemed fragile and broken. "Sam's not mad. Neither am I," he shook his head. "We just want to know what happened."
Her eyes looked away.
"Would you like to know something about Dad?" That got her attention. Dean moved his arm to lay it on the bed, in front of him. "Dad used to tell Sam and me to be brave. In fact, he drilled that into us. We couldn't be afraid. Me, I think that's especially true about family. Dad wouldn't want you to be afraid of us. In fact, he would tell me to watch out for you, like he told me to watch out for Sam," Dean explained to his sister.
Taylor looked down at the photo at John.
"I get life was hard for you. I can't imagine the crap you lived through. But that would never happen here," he shook his head. "I promise."
A distrustful look appeared. Taylor crawled, backwards, stepping down from the bed. She went over to her desk and turned to a clean sheet in her notebook, writing something down. When she finished, Taylor took it, back over to her bed, crawling back to her original spot and handed the notebook to Dean.
Dean took it, reading what she had wrote. "Too mene brokn." It took a moment to decipher what Taylor had written, saying it out loud, several times. Saying each word, out loud, Dean finally read, "Too many broken." He looked up at her, "Too many broken? Is that what you wrote?"
She nodded, slowly.
Dean understood what his sister meant. "Yeah, I get it. And, I'm not gonna lie, I've broken a few, myself. But I also had promises broken towards me. I swear though. You are family and we'll do whatever it takes to protect you."
Taylor looked away with just her eyes. Dean knew she wanted to believe him, but knew it wasn't that easy. He was going to have to prove it.
After a moment, she pulled her notebook back when Dean had laid it down on the bed. She turned it around and wrote, "Wairs Daddy?" and showed him.
Dean read it and closed his eyes. He wiped a hand down his face and looked up at his sister. "Dad," he swallowed, not wanting to break this news to her. "H-he died, a year after you were born."
Taylor wrote more. "How?"
"Your foster parents, did you ever see their eyes turn black?"
She nodded her head.
"That's because demons had possessed them," he explained. "They're monsters that make people do bad things. And, one of them got to Dad before we could."
Taylor wrote more. "Can they hurt me?"
"No, I won't let that happen."
She hesitated to write more. Her hand gripped the short pencil. The point was two inches from where the eraser used to be. She released her grip, instead, letting the pencil roll down her notebook as Taylor stared at her knees. Dean caught a tear drift down her cheek.
He dropped a knee to reach up and catch it on the side of his finger. Dean pulled his hand, back, wiping the tear away with his thumb. "How about that movie?" he changed the subject. "You pick, remember?"
Taylor looked over at her oldest brother, who smiled for her. She stood up, grabbing her stuffed dolphin.
Dean stood up, watching as she came around to his side. "Where'd ya get that toy, anyway?"
She looked up at him when she passed the foot of the bed.
"Just curious."
Taylor looked from him, over to where she left the photo.
Dean followed her eyes. He looked back at Taylor, confused. "Dad?"
She nodded.
That was a surprise. Dean figured a caseworker or a foster parent had given the toy to her. But his father? It was hard to believe. Then again, Taylor was his first girl, after two boys. Maybe having a daughter, softened his heart. No wonder she treasured the thing, and it did look over a decade old.
Dean led Taylor to the screen room where they took a seat at the long table. Sam was waiting for them. Dean had brought in the snacks before Sam came home. Sam just had to move the beer in there, and brought in a juice box for Taylor. The brothers were surprised when she had chosen juice over soda. Sam felt that was a better choice, at least.
Dean spun his laptop around, pushing it across the table towards Taylor. "Pick any movie you want. No TV shows though. Just movies."
Taylor looked at the screen, at the ones that were seen.
"You can scroll down, too." He stood up, showing her, the touch mouse at the bottom of the keyboard. She picked it up, easily so Dean figured Taylor had already used a laptop.
Taylor scrolled through the movie library of Netflix, looking at the covers.
"Click on the movie when you find one," Dean added after a minute. Him and Sam could see what she was doing from the projector screen. After a few moments of searching, Taylor clicked on Mean Girls. "Didn't I say, no click flicks?" he teased her.
Taylor dropped her head.
"Dean," Sam hissed at him.
"I'm just teasing you, kiddo," he assured her. "It's okay. And, besides, I have to admit. Lindsay Lohan is pretty freakin' hot. Or, rather was before she lost it."
The movie started as the Winchester siblings spent the next ninety minutes, laughing and eating. Though, it wasn't audible, Sam and Dean was relieved and happy to see their sister, laughing along, as well. That was the highlight of the day in their book.