If I had a nickel for the amount of times I don't own these characters, I would be probably fifty dollars richer (or more, I've never been good at math)…
Supernatural
Dean closed Max's office door seconds before he heard the old man ascending the stairs. He retreated down the hall, to what he hoped was Alex's room. It wasn't hard to find the kid's room; there was a handwritten sign that said, 'Alex's room: Keep out Mom.' Dean opened the door, getting his first glimpse at the kid's lifestyle.
The first thing Dean noticed was the view. It looked out into a backyard, a huge lake shining in the sunlight. The next thing he noticed was the mess; the kid obviously wasn't a neat freak. Dean had a new respect for the kid; neatness was for girls and geeks like Sam. He figured he should be glad that Sam was so neat, they'd never find anything if it wasn't for him, but he really wasn't at that time.
He walked across the kid's clutter-clothes, games, shoes, and a few toys-and plopped down on the kid's bed. He laid back, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't believe that Sam could let something so important slip his mind. How could he not check the history of all the victims, how could he assume something after two cases, how could he be turning into Dean. I am a bad influence. Jeez, that creepy principal was right. He was thinking of a principal they had, Mrs. Bitz, or Mrs. Bitch according to Dean. She saw Dean and Sam at recess once; Dean was in the fifth grade, Sam in the first. Two third graders were picking on Sam, so Dean stepped in and beat the hell out of the kids. Bitz had the gym teacher pull Dean off the kids.
Dean had found himself in the Bitz's office, staring at the old crown. She was pale, with a beak like nose and orange-ish eyes. Dean wished she was a demon so he could blow her away, but she wasn't. The batty old woman started lecturing him, "Fighting is not tolerated" "You could end up expelled" Dean remembered thinking, Expel me; I won't be her long enough anyway. Then the woman got in his face and said, "You are a bad influence on your brother. Sam has potential to do whatever he wants, but with you always with him he'll end up a low-life like you. Do you want that?" to which Dean replied, "There are a lot of things I want, but I can't always get them." "I won't tolerate this attitude from you, Winchester. You are nothing but another unintelligent student and I won't watch you corrupt your brother." She never did watch him corrupt Sam, they moved on from that school a day later. Dean always wondered if Bitz died or if she was still kicking. He sometimes still wanted to hunt the bitch down and put a bullet between her eyes. But that would be unethical and he would be in more trouble with the cops. Just thinking of the cops made him realize he was still screwed. That they were still after him; that St. Louis wasn't going to magically go away.
"Alex," he heard a voice say, causing him to jump. Heather knocked on the door. She opened the door before Dean could say anything. She was carrying a basket of laundry, the fresh smell of clean clothes filling the room.
"When are you planning on cleaning this room?" Heather deposited the basket on Alex's bed, looking around the mess.
"I was thinking between now and never," Dean replied sarcastically sitting up. He saw Heather roll her eyes, she didn't look annoyed just tired. "You know, "she said softly, sitting next to Dean, "you did scare me when you passed out like that."
"I'm sorry for that," Dean replied just telling the woman what she wanted to hear. He knew it wasn't Alex's fault, that blond "Thing" putting the whammy on him and the kid, but he also knew that Heather wouldn't believe that.
"Don't apologize, sweetie, this is not your fault. I just wish I knew who's it was." she put her arm around Dean, pulling him into a hug. He hadn't had a hug like that since he was four, from his own mother. He wished it would last, he missed the closeness him and his mother had, but it couldn't. Heather merely kissed the top of his head, let him go, and got to her feet.
"Do you want lunch?" Heather asked crossing the room to the door.
"I'm pretty full from the sandwiches," Dean replied softly averting his eyes from the woman's face.
"Okay, if you need anything just ask." And she was gone, the door closing behind her with a click. Dean leaned back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. He heard a knock on the door, a tad louder than Heather's, and a familiar voice said, "Al, you want to learn to shoot or what?"
Dean checked the Pokémon wall clock on the kid's wall, it read eleven-forty. He vaguely remembered Max saying 'Come to my office, eleven-thirty, I'll teach you to shoot.' Dean figured he meant at night, but apparently he was wrong. He got to his feet, crossing the room. He opened the door to see the older man, holding a colt, smiling at him.
"Sure, Grandpa," Dean said softly and walked out of the room. He closed the door as Max said, "We need to take the back stairway; your mother is in the kitchen and will see us the moment we reach the bottom."
"There's a back stairway?" Dean asked not recalling seeing one when he entered the house.
"Leads to the library, which is more like your grandma's lair." CG's got a lair, that's convenient, Dean thought but still followed Max down the hall to a rickety set of stairs. They reached the library, the darkest library Dean had ever seen.
"Please watch your step, Maggie is not one to keep her area clean." Sure enough, not even seven steps into the room Dean tripped over something. With reflexes he never thought an old geezer like Max could have, reflexes that were vaguely familiar to him, Max spun around and caught him before he face planted.
"Like I said," Max commented lightly, setting Dean back on his feet, "watch your step." They made it outside without another incident, the sun nearly blinding Dean. He squinted, trying to take in the view. There were trees, a ton of trees, scattered across the yard. A path was straight ahead, leading into the heart of the mini forest.
"We follow that path, your mom won't hear a shot," Max said and headed toward the path. Dean took a deep breath, took one more look at their surroundings, and quickly followed the old man. He couldn't help feeling mildly excited, he was about to do something he actually enjoyed. This is going to be awesome, Dean thought and sped up. For once in his life, even with time hanging over his head, he might actually enjoy a hunt.
SUPERNATURAL
Sam exited the police station, a folder tucked under his arm, and headed toward the Impala. Alex was sitting in the passenger, wearing Dean's sunglasses, feet resting on the dash, asleep. Sam couldn't help but smirk, Dean really had to be here to see how much abuse the kid was putting the Impala through.
"Hey, Alex," Sam said softly as he got into the car. He shook the kid, gently, and he jerked awake with an audible grunt. "What, what," Alex said taking the sunglasses off putting his feet back on the floor.
"Have a nice nap?" Sam asked putting the folder on the seat. It was stifling in the suit he was wearing, so he loosened the tie.
"Yeah, what did you get?" Alex sounded so much like Dean that Sam had to keep reminding himself it wasn't his brother.
"Death reports from the past thirty years. I never realized how easy Dean's job is, just flirting with the receptionist to get what we need. He's always bitching about how much work…"
"Sam," Alex said cutting the hunter's rant off.
"Sorry, so there are pictures of all the dead attached to the records. You just tell me if you recognize any of them, okay?"
"Then what?"
"You'll see." Sam wasn't sure how the kid would take it, if he found out they had to unbury the body, salt the remains, and burn them. At eight, he'd either find it awesome-Dean did-or disgusting.
"Okay," Alex murmured not entirely satisfied with the answer. He picked up the folder as Sam started the Impala. They started driving down the street, Alex opening the folder. He looked at all the pictures. He immediately dismissed the men-the blonde was definitely a girl-sticking them on the seat next to him.
Sam watched the kid flip through all the girls, sitting the rejects in the male pile. Sam felt a sinking feeling in his stomach when Alex came down to the last two. If neither of those two were who attacked him then they were back at square one. Luck must have been on his side
-First time in a freaking long time-because when Alex reached the last photo he said, "This is her." He handed Sam the picture and death report. Sam's eyes briefly left the road as he looked at the woman. Even in the copied black and white photo he could tell she had blond hair. She was wearing her hair up in the picture, her eyes were light.
"Amelia Nethers," Sam mumbled looking at her name. She was buried in the local cemetery. "It says she was beaten to death."
"Why?" Alex asked taking the pages back from Sam.
"People are sick, that's why," Sam replied as he pulled into the motel parking lot. He checked his watch before getting out of the car. "So, it's like six hours until sunset, you want to get something to eat."
"Sure, but why does it matter how many hours 'til sunset?" Alex was eyeing Sam cautiously.
"I'll explain while we eat. Just let me change and we'll go," Sam replied evasively and headed into the motel room, leaving Alex looking slightly more uneasy than before. He was changed and ready in a few minutes, heading back toward the parking lot. He made sure the door was locked and headed toward the car. Alex still looked unsure whether to trust Sam or not-Sam didn't blame him, it'd scare him too if some stranger wasn't exactly honest with him. Better to live in blissful ignorance than fearful truths, he thought as he got in the car.
They drove to the diner in silence, Alex looking out the window. When they reached a small place called Rona's Eatery, they got out and entered the establishment. Sam led Alex to a booth in the back, away from everyone.
A portly woman of fifty walked up to them carrying two menus. She handed both Sam and Alex one and said, "Welcome to Rona's do y'all want something to drink?" she pulled an order book from her apron and a pen from behind her ear.
"Can I have a chocolate milk, ma'am," Alex asked glancing at Sam as if asking permission. Sam rolled his eyes, but still nodded. Apparently, his mother runs his life a little too much.
"Sure thing, Sweetie," the woman said. Sam caught sight of her nametag as Fern turned to him and said, "What would you like, Sugar?"
"Uh, coffee please," Sam replied as he opened his menu.
"Okay, one chocolate milk and one coffee." Fern wrote the beverages down and waddled away from them. When she was out of earshot, Sam put his menu down and bent over the table to say, "Alex, we've had this discussion. You are technically twenty-seven-years old; you don't need my permission to do things."
"Yeah but my mom says…"
"Is your mom here?" Sam asked looking around. Alex mimicked him and then shook his head. "What are you thinking about ordering?"
"Um…" Alex looked over the menu his eyes landing on the desserts. "Ice cream." He grinned, a smile Sam was used to seeing from his brother-when he saw a girl he liked.
"Okay, but why not order something else and then ice cream," Sam suggested trying to sound less like a parent and more like a negotiator.
"You said I didn't need your permission to do things. So, wouldn't me ordering ice cream result in my decision, not yours?" Damn, he backed me into that one, Sam thought, but came back with, "Yes, but wouldn't a…" Sam looked over the menu and said, "…a burger be better and then ice cream?"
"I guess," Alex replied and then added, "but just ice cream would be better."
Before Sam could respond Fern was back with their drinks. She set Alex's chocolate milk and Sam's coffee onto the table and took out her order book again. "What can I get you, Sweetie Pie?" she asked looking at Alex first. Alex looked at the menu. Before he could order ice cream, Sam knew the shifty look from when Dean pulled it, Sam said, "He'll have a hamburger and fries. I'll have the grilled chicken sandwich." He pulled the menu out of Alex's grasp and handed both of them to Fern.
"Okay, Honey," Fern said looking curiously at Sam then at Alex. She then shuffled away from them, to the cook's window.
"I thought…" Alex began to whine.
"I said you could have ice cream later, not now," Sam snapped. "Keep up this attitude and you may not get ice cream at all."
"You're mean," Alex mumbled crossing his arms across his chest. He glared at the table tears forming in his eyes. Sam rolled his eyes but otherwise stayed quiet. When their food arrived Alex just picked at his burger stuffing some of it in his napkin when he thought Sam wasn't looking.
"Do you want to know why sunset is important?" Sam asked finally tired of Alex's sulking.
"Is it important?" Alex grumbled.
"It might be, but you have to eat before I tell you," Sam said slowly. It had always worked for him and Dean. When they were younger and didn't want to eat John would ask them if they wanted to hear about the latest hunt. Dean being Dean would say, "Yeah, please tell me." while Sam would nod and John would say, "Okay, but you have to eat first." John rarely had to pull the trick on Dean, though, who eats pretty much anything, but it always worked. Sam just hoped it worked on Alex.
"You promise to tell me," Alex sniffed looking up at Sam.
"I promise," Sam replied.
"Cross your heart," Alex said softly.
"Cross my heart," Sam replied and ran a finger across his chest in an X to show the kid he meant it. Alex smirked and said, "Okay." and after that the kid ate every bite of his lunch. When he was done eating he put his hands on the table, fingers intertwined, and said, "Why?"
"You can't tell anyone, do you understand me," Sam said looking around for eavesdroppers.
"I won't tell anyone," Alex said and faked zipping his mouth shut.
"Okay, well we need to go to the cemetery tonight," Sam replied in a lower voice. Alex paled slightly and said in a scared whisper, "Why?"
"The woman who did this to you, well she's a ghost."
"A ghost?" Dean's voice went up three octaves. Sam was actually convinced he'd never hear his brother sound like that. Alex brought out a new side to Dean Winchester.
"Yes, and in order to fix this problem I have to unbury that Amelia Nethers person, salt her body, and then burn it." Alex was so pale now that Dean's freckles were the most prominent feature on his face. His green eyes were swimming in tears of fear and he was shaking.
"Are you okay?" Sam asked curiously suddenly worried for the kid's sanity.
"C…can I get b…back on that," Alex said in a hoarse whisper. Sam nodded and finished off his sandwich. He signaled for the check, Alex not even asking about ice cream.
When the check came Sam got to his feet and walked over to the cashier. He paid and walked back over to Alex. The kid hadn't moved, still pale as could be, staring at the table.
"Come on, Alex," Sam said and the kid automatically stood up. He started walking toward the door, leaving Dean's jacket in the booth. Sam grabbed both his jacket and Dean's and hurriedly ran after the kid.
Alex was sitting in the Impala, face in his hands, shoulders shaking, crying. Sam bit his lip suddenly realizing that he had done the same thing Dean did to him when he was younger. He had taken what the kid believed was fake, all the reassurances that the monsters under his bed were all in his head, and stomped on them. He had essentially broken the little kid's innocent spirit. Alex Lawrence would probably never be the same again.
Sam got in the car throwing both jackets in the backseat. He wasn't sure if he should comfort the kid or not-Alex was probably more afraid of the messenger than the message. So, instead of having-what Dean would call-a "chick-flick moment," Sam started the Impala and drove down the street.
By the time they reached the motel, Alex had calmed down. He was still scared, Sam could tell, but he wasn't crying anymore. His eyes were locked straight ahead, staring out the window.
"Are you okay?" Sam asked again. He was worried the kid would go into shock or something that would result in his brother's body shutting down. Alex replied by puking all over the Impala. His lunch and his meager breakfast covering the floor, the leather seats, and Dean's clothes.
"I'll take that as a no," Sam mumbled opening the door. Alex stepped out of the car, slightly less pale, and said, "I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. Just go get cleaned up and I'll clean this up." Alex disappeared into motel. Sam looked at the mess and sighed. Dean would be pissed if he could see this; he couldn't help thinking as he went in search of a bucket. He had a lot of work ahead of him.