Chapter 8
(Revised)
Even though Sam had a weekend off, he helped Dean continue looking for a job. The eldest Winchester did not understand why he was having the most trouble. He wanted to work, fixing cars but the garages he was applying to wanted workers with educational experience. Dean felt he could fix cars better than any college kid. No one wanted to see it.
Thankfully, Monday morning came and Dean finally landed a job in construction. Which meant he had to get into the habit of drinking water. Nevada was a desert and even with it being the middle of February, it was still a little warm out in the afternoon. At least the guy had a job, finally. The downside was, Sam and Dean had to get up extra early to get Sam to work, then Dean had to drive all the way to Las Vegas. Which would be great once they could start visiting Taylor, except Dean would have to drive back to Paradise to pick Sam up, first. Another downside was that the Vegas site was only temporary. Once those houses were finished, no telling what city was next.
Wednesday morning, while Dean was working on an upstairs drywall, helping a few of his coworkers, his phone rang. It was Mindy calling with the results. Of course, Taylor was their sister. No one really doubted it. It was protocol, though, and this confirmed what they already knew.
Dean was still really excited. When he was able to go on break, he called Sam, to let him know. Not only that, but when they both got off work that afternoon, they could finally have their first contact with their sister since she was taken from them. Things were actually going right for the Winchesters.
Time seemed to move slow as the Winchesters counted down each passing second until they got back to the motel. Of course, of all days to run late, it had to be that day. Sam got off at his normal time, but Dean had an extra hour so his team could finish the day's work. It wasn't until 4:30, was when he able to leave. If things couldn't get any worse, Dean ran into rush hour traffic on the way to pick up Sam, and the line was barely moving.
"Come on," Dean moaned to himself, wanting to get home as soon as possible. If only Sam was with him, already. They could call while sitting there. But Dean wasn't about to make the first call to his sister without their brother, there. As much as he wanted to talk to Taylor, he knew he had to wait until after both of them got back to the motel. He and Sam also had to start looking for apartments that evening since both of them had jobs. Dean was hoping to afford a three-bedroom, but he would take a pull-out couch, out in the living room if he had to.
Finally, at the next turn, Dean turned right and took another route. It went a little faster than the first route, and pulled up to Sam's work around 5:30. Sam slid in, in the passenger seat, holding food from the fast food place across the street. Neither one could eat, though. Dean headed straight for the motel, pulling up in front of their room. He hurried up to the door, carrying the drinks, fidgeting with the keys. His hand was shaking with excitement as Dean tried to get the key inside the lock.
Once he was able to unlock the door, him and Sam headed inside and set the food on the dresser before sitting down on their beds. The brothers faced each other as Dean pulled out his phone, calling Taylor's group home, putting it on speaker. They heard it, ring three times before a woman answered.
"Sunset Crossing group home. This is Diane."
Sam and Dean stared at each other, trying to decide who would say something first.
"Hello? Is someone there?"
Sam was the first to speak. "Uh, hi. My name is Sam Winchester," he said, as well as Dean's name who also said hello, acknowledging his presence. "Could we speak to Taylor Winchester, please?"
"She's in the middle of dinner, right now. Can I take a message and I can have her call you right back as soon as dinner and chores are done," she told them.
Dean spoke up at that time. "Can you let Taylor know, her brothers, Dean and Sam called." He was watching the floor, disappointment in his voice.
"I sure can. It'll be around 7:30, eight o'clock when she can call you back. Does she have your number?"
"I can leave it, if not," he told her.
"Okay, give me a few…" there was a slight pause before she said she was ready.
"It's 785-555-4999."
The woman on the other line repeated the number as she wrote it down. "Okay, I will have her call you back in a little while. Okay?"
"Thank you," Sam thanked the woman.
"It's no problem. Bye bye." The line hung up.
After all that time, spent, trying to hurry home and the brothers had to wait a little while longer. So, Sam and Dean took the time, waiting, to eat their dinner while watching some TV. It was only basic cable but they were able to find a basketball game on one of the sports channels.
While they lounged there, on their beds, relaxing from their day, the brothers' eyes would occasionally switch over to where Dean had his phone on the nightstand. Neither one had felt this anxious since they were kids, waiting for their father to come home from a hunt.
Minutes seemed like hours and Dean had even started to doze off. The digital alarm clock had struck 7:43 when Dean's phone started to ring. Dean leapt up, wide awake and alert, placing his socked feet on the floor. Sam sat up from where he was still watching the game, facing his brother.
Dean grabbed his phone. The screen said, Taylor. He answered it right away, putting it immediately on speaker. "Taylor?"
No answer.
"Breathe into the phone if it's you, kiddo," he told her. Some breathing came through, forming some static. It was Taylor. "Hey, kiddo. We've missed ya. Things sure haven't been the same without you."
Of course, still no answer.
"Hey, Taylor," Sam greeted, next. "It's me, Sam."
A tiny whimper escaped through the phone.
"You all right, kiddo?" Dean asked, full-on protective, big brother mode on high. "They treating you right, over there?"
Silence, except for her breathing.
"We wanted to let you know, we've moved here to Nevada for you, kiddo. Sam and I already got jobs, and we're about to start looking for an apartment." Him and Sam exchanged looks. It was easier to talk to Taylor, in person. At least they had body language to go by. Over a phone, neither one could tell how she was feeling.
"But," Sam added, "once our background checks go through, we can come see you. Hopefully, in the next couple of weeks."
"I brought you, your clothes we got you, and your sketchbook," Dean told her, "and I made sure to grab that photo, Dad left you. Are those nightmares still bothering you?" They could hear sniffles coming from the other line. Dean shared a look with Sam.
Sam looked back at the phone in Dean's hand. "Hey, uh, Taylor… Look, I never got to apologize for what happened that day we got split up. I wasn't trying to hurt you, I promise. I didn't think you would freak out. I figured letting you decide where the drawing you gave me, would go, was your choice since you made it. I'm sorry, I really am."
There was more silence.
"I still love you, Taylor. No matter how old you get, you're always gonna be my baby sis."
Still silence.
When it seemed like Sam was done, Dean spoke again. "I also want to say, I'm sorry, Kiddo." It seemed like every time he talked to his sister, Dean was calling her, kiddo. So, the word was becoming Taylor's nickname. "Back at the jail, I was probably scaring ya, huh?" He paused. Why the brothers kept pausing, neither one knew. Maybe they figured, eventually she'll say something. "Listen, I wasn't trying to scare you. Or, yell at you, for that matter. I was scared out of my mind that we were going to lose you, and you would end up in another bad foster home where I couldn't protect you like I promised I would." Dean would have liked to let Taylor know him and Sam had Castiel watching out for her, but wasn't sure if someone else was listening or how much the group home could hear of their conversation. "I'm still holding fast to that promise, Kiddo. No matter what time it is. If someone hurts you, get to a phone as fast as you can and call me. Don't ever hesitate. I will be there to kick someone's butt. That's not gonna fly, this time. Not with Sam and I." In retrospect, he probably shouldn't have said that, either, but Dean wanted Taylor to know he was the overprotective, big brother, ready to kick anyone's ass if they tried anything. If they were of legal age, of course, which Dean quickly added.
In the background, they heard a faint knock and someone asking to use the phone. When they heard Diane's voice from earlier tell the person, Taylor was using it, their voice got louder, in annoyance.
"How is she using the phone? It ain't like she talks or nothing."
Sam and Dean exchanged looks between each other. "Does the other kids bully you, Taylor?" Sam felt the need to ask.
No response.
"If they are, just ignore them, Kiddo. We're trying as fast as we can to speed through this whole process and get you back," Dean assured her. "We're family and family needs to be together."
Sam added, "Do you want to come live with us, Taylor?"
Dean gave their brother a hard glare. What kind of question was that?
He noticed but continued. "If you don't, that's okay. But we've been doing everything we can so you can come back and live with us. Now that Dean and I know we have a sister, things haven't been the same without you. We miss you."
Dean had been staring at the floor as he held the phone up. His elbow was sitting on his knee, with his other arm draped across the other. "I can't say I haven't lost sleep, worrying if you're okay, and we have to be up early for work. I can't stop thinking about you. Every second you're away, is, like, torture for me. Wondering if you're safe, or where you are. If someone is hurting you, or upsetting you. And I know you've probably been scared out of your mind, yourself, huh?"
The brothers heard a whimper that just about broke their hearts.
"Hang in there, Kiddo," Dean told her. "The only thing left that we have to get is an apartment, like Sam said. Then the sooner we move in and your caseworker approves it, you'll be back with us before any of us knows it." He tried to smile even though Taylor couldn't see it. It was mostly for him, then her. A song popped into his head from his own childhood just as he heard Diane tell Taylor, it was time to wrap things up. Dean started singing it, out loud to her. He sang the parts his mother would sing to him when she would tuck him in. His eyes closed as Dean sang the words softly to Taylor. When he finished, neither him or Sam was expecting what happened next.
"D-Dean." Hearing his name made Dean open his eyes, in surprise. But before one of them could speak, the sound of the landline phone dropping onto leather was heard.
"Taylor?" Dean asked. "Taylor?"
Shortly after, Diane came on. "Hello?"
Sam was on the edge of his seat as Dean asked, "What happened to Taylor?"
"I don't know. I was sitting at my desk while you talked when I noticed Taylor crying, just now. Then her speaking caught me off guard and before I knew it, she was dashing out of the office and upstairs. What did you say to her?"
"I was, uh. The song my mom used to sing to me came to mind, and I just started singing it to Taylor," he shrugged, "I don't know why. Just felt like it, I guess."
"What song was it?" she asked.
"Hey, Jude."
"That Beatles' song?"
Dean nodded, once. "Yep."
"Huh, it must have gotten emotional for her. I'll go up and check on her in a little while. You can call back, tomorrow, if you like."
"Yeah, sure. Thank you."
"No problem. Bye bye." The call ended.
Sam was sitting there, bewildered. "What was all that about?" he asked.
Dean looked from the floor, over to the side. "I have no freakin' clue," he said, sitting up, straight and tossed the phone over onto the bed. "I'm just worried that may have triggered a bad memory or something." Dean dropped his head again at the thought of Taylor upset or scared, and rubbed his hand along his hair.
"Do you think Taylor will be okay?"
"She's a Winchester, ain't she?" he pointed out for Sam's sake and his. "We always are. Especially since I consider her hell a whole lot worse than when I was down in actual hell. Taylor's made it this far. She'll make it." Once said, Dean stood up and headed for the bathroom to take a shower. When he returned, freshly showered and dressed for bed, Sam was leaning against his headboard, watching a movie on Lifetime. The movie was about ten minutes in, as photos were shown on the screen, of a boy, shirtless, covered in bruises.
"What are you watching?" Dean asked of his brother as he heard the detective on TV ask, "These polaroids were in their room?"
"Uh, some Lifetime movie, I guess," he replied. "For the Love of a Child I think it said at the beginning. The game ended so I started channel surfing until I found the end of an Unsolved Mysteries rerun and this came on, afterwards. It seems like it could help us with Taylor."
Dean watched the next scene of two women talking about the boy inside a room they were looking in. Two years behind in school, bruises, not talking. That reminded the eldest sibling of his sister, all right. He decided to peel himself away, heading over to the mini fridge, to grab a beer. He took it over to his bed. Dean turned on Sam's laptop, opening up Netflix. But his eyes couldn't help drift back to the movie. He tried to start the next episode of the show Dean had been watching through, but found he couldn't focus on it. He tried to turn the volume up. That didn't stop his eyes from wandering back to the movie, especially while the little boy was onscreen.
Finally, Dean gave in, closing the laptop. He sank lower against his pillow as Dean watched the Lifetime movie with his brother.
As the movie progressed, Sam couldn't help wonder, out loud, "Do you think there's more Taylor's holding back?"
"I don't know, Sammy," Dean admitted. He wondered the same thing, though. But kept it to himself.
Sam ended up crying through some parts of the movie. Dean, on the other hand, felt angry. Angry that the characters had let that happen, especially at one particular part about the little boy's roommate. When the little boy finally revealed his secret at the end, Sam practically wanted to barf and Dean wanted to put a bullet in the kid's parents' skulls. Or, at least the father's, anyway. The movie did not help in any way. If anything, it made Dean worry more for his sister, and wished he could call her back. It was around ten at night and Taylor was probably in bed, by now. Thankfully, there was a happy ending for the little boy.
Sam read the words that scrolled up over the last scene. "In 2005, Sarah O'Meara and Yvonne Fedderson were nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize. Childhelp USA is now the largest non-governmental, non-profit organization in the U.S. for the treatment and prevention of child abuse. It has directly provided help and hope to over three million children and adults, whose lives have been traumatized by child abuse. In June 2006, Childhelp USA helped to achieve a major victory with the passage of national legislation that created a centralized database, to track child abuse perpetrators across state lines. Because of this law, countless more children will lead safer, happier lives."
"Wow, so there is hope out there for these kids," said Dean, once Sam was finished reading.
Sam looked over at his brother. "And there's hope for Taylor, too."
He looked over at Sam. The room grew quiet until the announcer on the TV killed the sentimental moment when he announced what was coming on next. "Okay, well, I'm hitting the sack." Dean got up, long enough to toss the covers, back and got in, underneath. "It's your turn to turn off the lights."
"What? Why me?"
Dean moved his pillow down from where he had it, leaning against the headboard. "Uh, when I started my job." He looked over at Sam. "All you do is sit at a desk and ask people if they tried turning off and on their computers. I, on the other hand, have been on my feet, all day, plastering drywall."
Sam couldn't say anything to that one. Dean had him backed into a corner. So he agreed, and stood up to walk over to the light switch. Making sure the door was locked, all three times before Sam switched off the lights and headed back to his bed. He shut off the TV before lying down and headed off to sleep.
