Chapter Twelve
Monday morning found Dean standing on a doorstep somewhere in the Canadian suburbs of Ottawa, wearing a suit, working on no sleep and too much coffee. Yep, all in all this was shaping up to be an awesome day. 'Cause you know, he didn't really want to be unconscious in bed right now instead of somewhere in suburbia.
There were kids trickling down the street… the younger ones meeting on the corner to wait for the school bus and the older ones walking a little further to get to the high school he'd passed on the way in. Dogs pranced around in their yards yipping at anything that walked passed them and parents piled into family sedans and SUV's to head off to their nine to five jobs. Dean was in suburbian hell. The neighborhood just reeked of families and wholesomeness so that Dean found himself thankful that Sam wasn't with him for once. In the mood he was in there was just no way he'd have been able to deal with the inevitable wistful sighs and contented smiles.
Pressing a finger to the doorbell he waited to see what was behind door number one in Maggie Desjardins' twisted little life. He didn't wait long either. There was a shrill shout, muffled by the door coming from somewhere at the back of the house. A woman demanding that "Jason, would you get your butt out of bed and answer the door already?" and yeah, somehow Dean didn't think that this was the most wholesome of places for a kid to grow up. Still, from what he'd read of the Desjardins parents anyplace was probably better than where the kid had come from.
He pasted on his most convincing smile as the door opened…to a young boy with darkly rimmed, haunted eyes and a mop of hair so blonde it was almost white.
"Hey there, Jason is it? I'm Brian Johnson from Children's Aid…" and apparently that was the wrong thing to say because the kid's eyes went wide and he backed away from the door.
"Mona!" He shouted as he raced out of sight. "It's for you!"
"What?!? At this time of the morning? Well who is it, boy? My show is on and I don't want to get out of this chair if I don't have to!"
Dean rolled his eyes…able to tell already that this lady was going to be a piece of work. Patience was not exactly one of his strongest virtues right now either…especially now that he was getting a look at the inside of the place. Seriously, it looked like it belonged in one of those magazines on the racks of grocery stores everywhere. Huge open concept rooms where everything was perfectly color coordinated… and way cleaner than any house with kids ever was. He knew a front when he saw one. It did nothing to improve his mood.
There was a muted "What?!?" of surprise and Dean was pretty sure that was when the kid, Jason told his foster mother who was paying them a visit. Dean ginned evilly to himself…he was going to play this one up.
Mona came waltzing in less than a minute later, looking the perfect housewife in a little jogging outfit, as perfectly coordinated as the rest of the house and smiling one of those bright, phony smiles that didn't quite reach her suspicious eyes.
"Hello…Can I help you Mr…?" she was fishing for a name and he was glad to give it to her.
"Johnson ma'am. Brian Johnson. I'm from the Children's Aid...we're conducting an internal investigation on the disappearance of Margaret Desjardins." Insert charming, flirtatious smile here…
"Oh, is Margaret missing? The poor dear…" Bingo…worked every time. Mona was the very picture of motherly concern, laying it on thick as she looked him up and down as if sizing up a prime piece of meat. "You know, Jason begged us to take his sister in last year when we first took him in…Broke my heart to tell the poor boy that we couldn't. I mean, if only we'd had enough room for her…"
Yeah, 'cause that was sincere.
"Oh, I don't know Mona… sure looks like you've got plenty of room here. I'm sure if you'd really wanted to you could have found enough space for one more kid. You know, in the interest of keeping the family together."
It was a jab aimed at calling her on the act she was putting on for him and it worked. There was a quick flash of surprise that flitted across her features and then a cold, hardness that replaced the appreciative looks she'd been giving him.
"Anyway… that's not why I came today, is it? I'd like to have a word with Margaret's brother."
"Really?" she asked, suspicion back in full force. Apparently she didn't think it was such a great idea which could only mean that Jason knew something that Mona didn't want Children's Aid to know about. Well then, this was going to be interesting. So he fed her the usual kind of bull that social services fed people that was impossible to say no to…
"Yeah. Sometimes in cases like this kids with nowhere to go find some way to contact their siblings, if only to let them know they're okay. Jason might know something and I'm here to find out if he does and what that might be."
…and waited.
"I don't think that's a very good idea…I mean, poor Jason doesn't even know Margaret's missing…and he's been through so much already…" Oh yeah, she was definitely hiding something. Question was: did it have anything to do with the girl or was it just something about this Jason kid?
"Well that's why they sent a trained professional Mona, to minimize the trauma." He smiled the smile of a man who knew he was going to get his way. "So, where can I find Jason? The sooner he and I have our little chat the sooner he can get to school right?"
Mona looked shell-shocked at having been railroaded so thoroughly, but she gestured towards the back of the house. "He's in his bedroom at the back of the house."
He nodded his thanks and walked away from the woman without so much as a word. The social services thing might have just been an act but Dean was pretty sure he wouldn't like what he was going to find anyway.
It was late morning when she woke on a smile and a soft sigh. Less than two days since Sam and his brother had rescued her from Jake and already she was getting used to waking up in strange beds in unfamiliar places. Oh, but she wasn't complaining. Not at all…because this morning Sam wasn't sitting in a chair next to the bed. Nope, this morning Kate woke up with her head pillowed on his chest and his big muscled arms holding her safe and warm. The slow steady beat of his heart under her ear was the most comforting sound she'd ever heard.
She felt safe… like even the yellow-eyed demon thing they were so worried about couldn't touch her. Hell, it probably wouldn't even dare with her sasquatch around. The though alone was enough to put a big cheeky grin on her face.
There was a soft knock on the motel room door. John Winchester maybe? Or the pastor Jim? One of the two letting them know it was time to get up and hit the road again. Another reason to smile. It was time to wake the sleeping giant.
She was pretty sure she'd done this before, turning in his arms as he slept and slowly crawling up his body. It wasn't that far a stretch from the dreams she'd been having of the guy. In fact, she'd begun to believe that there was something to this memory loss theory. Like maybe the dreams were just her minds way of reminding her of what she'd forgotten… or maybe it had grabbed on to what she remembered of Sam as some sort of defense mechanism to keep her sane when Jack went nuts on her. Either way, she decided that stealing herself a good morning kiss and waking Sam in the process was an all-together perfect way to start the day.
On her stomach now, leaning on her elbows in the crook of his arm with her face inches from hers she took advantage of his sleeping state to take in the sight of him. Dark hair fell softly across his forehead and cheek that her fingers itched to brush aside. The markings of battle were still there. It hadn't been said, but she knew they'd come from Jack. There had been a fight between the two men once she'd gone. The fact that Jack was the one who'd lost that fight didn't need to be said either because Kate knew it too.
Sam hadn't shaved the beard…though he had taken the time to trim it and clean it up so that it was shorter than it had been in weeks. To her surprise she liked it, a lot. It gave him a bit of a rougher edge than she remembered him having. Not that she didn't enjoy him clean shaven…just that it was a pleasant change.
There was no smile on his face as he slept this morning. That was different too, and it was a change that Kate did not find welcome. Maybe there was a way to bring the smile back? She could certainly think of one…or two ways to do that.
Leaning in a little she let her lips brush against his lightly…oh so lightly. Just enough to say they'd touched, and then pulled away. Sam's arm tightened a little around her, as if he were assuring himself she really was still there. Sleep fogged eyes opened and adjusted themselves to the morning light finally settling on her face. She felt the fingers of the hand that wasn't holding her tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear and watched as a slow smile appeared in the depths of his beard.
"The sleeping giant wakes." She teased him lightly, making his dimples appear.
"Did you just…" and it was pretty obvious he was asking about the kiss. There was nothing for her to do but to nod that yes, she had.
He couldn't resist. Kate was more Fran this morning than she had been at all since they'd found her and it was just too tempting to tease her, even just a little bit. Needing to hear her laugh again like he needed air to breathe.
"So…I guess that probably counts as a first kiss then doesn't it?" he asked innocently.
He wasn't disappointed, her quiet laughter wrapped around him like a blanket generating the kind of warmth no cloth could ever provide…and then she surprised him again.
"Nah, nothing I can think of could possibly beat the first kiss I remember."
Because she did remember that first kiss, though it was a surprise to her as well. The vivid image of she and Sam on the couch of her hotel room in New York a year ago… but he didn't give her the time to think it over. Threading his free hand into her hair he pulled her in for another kiss instead.
Whoever was knocking at the door could wait. As far as they were both concerned this kiss was far more important than whatever was waiting for them on the other side of that door.
He was right and for once he wished he hadn't been. After the rest of the house that he'd seen so far Jason's room was…well it was pathetic was what it was. Everything in the room was bare bones simple. A wooden desk and dresser and a small bed tucked away in one corner…almost too small for the blond kid sitting on it. Other than a couple of school books on the desk there was nothing in the room. No toys, no pictures…nothing that said this room belonged to someone. Especially not a kid.
Actually, now that he thought about it, that seemed to be a recurring theme in the place. He hadn't seen a single thing that looked like it belonged to an eight year old. Not even a bike in the front yard.
So yeah, he'd been right. He really didn't like what he'd found.
The kid, Jason, was staring at him wide-eyed and…yeah that was fear alright. Well, that was something he could do something about at least.
Dean's eyes settled on the rock-band t-shirt the kid was wearing and smiled.
"Metallica fan eh?"
The kid scowled.
"Yeah. What's it to you?"
Obvious contempt for authority figures. Belligerent too. Dean was really starting to like this kid.
"I'm a pretty big fan myself actually." Jason just rolled his eyes, like he saw Dean's type all the time.
"Yeah, I'll bet you do." And damned if that wasn't the first time he'd had sarcasm thrown at him by an eight year old kid. Dean couldn't help the grin.
"All right tough guy…don't believe me? Ask me something. Anything you want. I bet you five bucks I can answer anything you throw at me."
Jason watched him carefully from under too long, messy blond bangs. "Anything huh?"
"Yeah. C'mon, give it your best shot."
The kid smiled, looking like he knew he was about to make an easy five bucks. "Okay then." and since when do eight year olds ooze smugness? "What instrument does John Bonham play for the band?"
Dean was impressed…and he had to wonder just how used to this he really was. The question was designed to fool a guy who didn't know any better. Too bad for the kid that Dean knew his stuff.
"Dude, that's just too easy."
"Oh yeah? Let's hear it then."
"He doesn't. John Bonham was the lead singer for Zeppelin until he died in 1980. Metallica didn't even exist 'til '81." He winked at the kid and handed him a five dollar bill, making him smile. "But I'll give this to you anyway 'cause it took guts to call my bluff like that."
Jason tried to hide the smile but he couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from curling up. "So… what was your name again?" he asked, looking as innocent as any kid Dean had ever seen. Something felt off though, like he was about to walk into something by answering the kid. Ridiculous right? He was eight for crying out loud.
"Brian Johnson."
"and you're from the Children's Aid Society?"
"Yup."
"Yeah right. That's a load of crap if I ever heard one."
Wait a second… was the kid calling him a liar? Was he actually getting caught out by a kid? Dude, he had to be loosing it if he was that obvious.
"You're good man… but Brian Johnson's the lead singer for AC/DC."
"Yeah…well, so he's not the only guy in the world with that name is he?"
"Nope."
"So who's to say I'm not who I say I am then?"
"I'm what they call a 'hard case' dude."
"And…?" where the heck was the kid going with this?
"and that means I'm the kid that nobody wants to deal with. So I've met all the social workers this side of Quebec, and a few from the other side too. Dude, you're not one of 'em."
Oh. Okay then. So…now what? The kid had that answer too, and he gave it to Dean without ever even having to be asked.
"You're here about Maggie aren't you?"
"Yeah Jason, I am."
"Why?" he asked wearily.
"Well, she and my girl met awhile back and they both ended up in…well I won't lie to you…they're both in a lot of trouble. I need to find Maggie so I can help them get out if it." It was as close to the truth as Dean could get without mentioning the fae creature, and he hoped the kid wouldn't see through this particular lie too.
"What kind of trouble?" Jason looked scared now. "Is it my dad? Did he find her? He came to my school yesterday…wanted me to tell him where she is. I wouldn't tell him though and he got really mad. Is Maggie okay?"
And where the hell was Sam when he needed him? Because seriously, those scared eyes were burning a hole straight through him and all Dean wanted to do was tell him everything was going to be okay…except that he couldn't, because he just didn't know if that was true. This kid had been through enough already. Dean was not going to lie to him about this one.
"Truth is I really don't know kiddo. She's been missing for the last few days…almost a week actually. I don't know if she's okay. That's why I need your help to find her."
Jason paled visibly, letting his head fall forward a little so he could stare at the fingers he was worrying the edge of his t-shirt with. "So…Dad might not've…" and then his head popped up again looking like he'd just realized something huge. "Wait, you said Maggie's been missing…but she hasn't. Not really."
The kid jumped off the bed and went straight for the dresser, pulling open the top drawer. When he turned around again he was holding a rolled up pair of bulky-looking socks and a look of triumph. Dean had to wonder if the kid had a screw loose or something…until he unrolled them and produced one of those little walkie-talkie type deals that look like cell phones.
"I talk to Maggie everyday…just for a minute or two. Enough so she doesn't have to worry if I'm okay. Said last night that she was heading over to this place…a bar she likes to hang out at."
"Wow. I'm impressed. I take it your foster parents don't know about this?"
"Nope…and if you tell 'em I'll tell Social Services and the cops that you're not really Brian Johnson."
Dean arched a brow. Well played dude. Not the first time the kid had surprised him today. He needed to feel like he had the upper hand and Dean wasn't about to take that away from him.
"What is your name anyway?"
"Tell you what…I'll give you my name and get you a day off school if you show me where this bar is."
It was tempting. He could tell just from looking at him that Jason was considering it. On one hand the kid wanted to see for himself that his sister was okay…on the other hand Dean was a complete stranger, who'd already lied to him once. Who's to say he wasn't dangerous?
"Look, dude...I know it's hard for you to believe but I'm here to help."
"You promise you won't hurt her?"
"I promise kiddo. Now how's about we take a ride and see if we can't find Maggie huh?" Maybe he could get some food into the kid while they were at it. Looked like he handn't had a good meal in…well, ever.
The kid crossed small, thin arms across his tiny chest. "Name?" 'cause of course he wasn't going to budge until Dean gave him what he'd asked for. Yeah, this kid was definitely growing on him.
"It's Winchester. Dean Winchester." And he knew he sounded like some sort of dorky James Bond wannabe. It made the kid smile though and that right there made it worth loosing the 'cool' for just a second.
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