Always the gentlemen, Dean opened the car door for his date and reached a hand down to help her out. Her name was Magda, and she was totally worth all the time he'd put into charming the pants right off her. He pulled her into a long, lingering kiss and then pulled away, smiling.
"Thanks for the good time, baby." He winked.
She grinned back. "Anytime, Dean." She answered, blushing. "And I do mean anytime. If you're ever out this way again …"
"Oh, I will most definitely look you up, sweetheart." Dean promised, watching as she dug out her key. He saw her to her apartment door with a final kiss, then turned away as she slipped inside. Off in the distance, the sun was making its first appearance, turning the bleak, Maryland landscape into something warm and vital.
He yawned, stretching.
Damn, he felt good.
As much as he loved spending time with his kid brother, it sure felt good to get away once in awhile - be an adult, do adult things.
And oh, the adults things Magda could do …
Wow.
He needed food, and he needed it now. He slipped behind the wheel and pointed the old Impala back toward the Super 12 Motel. He was sure he'd seen a Denny's back along this way. The restaurant was the perfect choice for Winchesters because it offered all the greasy bacon and eggs he and his dad could manage while still serving up that veggie skillet thing that Sammy loved.
Dean shuddered, broccoli for breakfast. Ugh.
He found the place easily enough, heading inside and washing up before placing his order.
As he stood in the take-out line, his attention was drawn to a kid roughly Sam's age. The boy's choppy hair was long and rebellious, hanging down over his face to mostly hide his eyes, and his arms beneath his short-sleeved shirt bore horrendous track marks. The kid was obviously coming down off something because he sat in the booth shivering, the omelet in front of him untouched. As Dean watched, the boy's attention turned to the family seated across from him, and when the boy raised his eyes to see them better, Dean thought he saw something that looked like longing.
And just like that, Dean felt a shiver pass over him. The kid looked enough like Sam to be a close relative, and was nearly the same age. As he watched, an older man approached and grabbed the boy by his arm. He tugged him unceremoniously out of his seat and pulled him out the door, leaving the kid's food behind. Dean watched as the pair crossed the street to the truck stop and the older man pointed. The boy shook his head once and took a step back, but the man shook him hard, propelling him away across the lot. The boy went then, head ducked low. Dean watched as he approached a trucker, smiling. The man nodded, touching the boy on his shoulder in an unsettling way, then opened the door of his cab. The kid climbed in, the door closed, and Dean winced.
He felt sick.
Then it was his turn to order, and Dean went a little overboard. He ordered for himself and his father, then he got Sam the veggie skillet he loved so much, adding a cranberry chicken salad for later. He remembered how Sam had tried that once and loved it. The kid was fifteen and spindly as the day was long. Dean was always trying to fatten him up.
As he thought about his kid brother tucked warm and comfortably away in his bed, he took a final glance across the parking lot.
The truck sat still and silent in the early morning dawn, and in the Denny's parking lot, the older man who had pimped the kid out stood leaning against his late-model sports car, smoking a cigarette and smiling to himself.
Later, when the man returned to his car after having eaten his own hot breakfast, he'd stare in disbelief at the four flat tires and horrific key mark that stretched bumper to bumper across the side of the car that faced away from the restaurant.
But Dean would know nothing about that.