People Are Strange

Chapter Five

Both John and Dean had heard all the details of Sam's little encounter with Dr. Dave Harold. Every last thing the boy had said and done was now an open book - a vividly detailed story- for his brother and father. Who were both currently in Dean's hospital room sans any doctor.

"Hell," John sighed, running a hand over his face tiredly, "At least we know Sam listens to us."

Dean snorted, but there was no feeling behind it; it sounded wrong too -tainted- coming from an eleven-year-old. "What if something happens to him, dad?"

His son's voice was soft and scared and John realized that he'd forgotten, as he so often did, that Dean was still just a child.

"Your brother's strong," John spoke reassuringly. Because he was the parent-the grown-up- and for some reason that meant that was his job. "He's a fighter, he-"

"He's seven." Dean's inarguable truth broke through John's helpful platitudes. "He's seven."

It didn't matter how many knives they'd wielded or that they knew how to fire a gun; that they were conversational in Latin and had heard stories of death and destruction for… well, Sam his whole life, and Dean since he'd watched his normal life go up in flames at age four.

It didn't matter that they were more mature than they should be, knew and accepted more than many grown men would ever dream of. Had seen things that only existed in the nightmares of the normal.

They were still his boys. And by God, John would put them back together.

He left Dean's bedside minutes later, assuring his son that he would fix it. That he would find Sam and make this horrible, horrible night okay again. Dean just smiled trustingly and nodded - because for some reason that boy always had faith in him.

John strode down the hospital corridor quickly and with purpose. He would search every nook and cranny of this building- he knew his son better than any of these brain dead employees. He knew where Sam would hide, where he would go if he got scared.

At least, he hoped he did. But there was no room for doubt now. So he was confident and sure.

He would find Sam.

At least, that's what he thought until he reached the very end of the hallway; where a tall woman in a gray, pinned-striped suit stopped him in his tracks. She looked official.

"John Winchester?" She spoke officially.

The eldest Winchester could only nod, knowing that whatever was to come of this wouldn't be good.

"My name id Cynthia Myers, I'm a social worker from DCF." She held up an small ID badge she wore around her neck as proof.

John's mind could form only one fully coherent thought.

Oh, crap.

"Where-"

Three simultaneous "Shhh!" sounds cut Sam off before he could even think about finishing the question.

The seven-year-old just rolled his eyes and continued to follow them down the hallway quietly. They're behavior reminded him of road trips with Dean and his dad, when they would get annoyed with him for asking 'Are we there yet?'

Thinking of long rides in the Impala just made Sam miss his family even more than he'd already been; and he decided right then- sneaking through a deserted hospital hallway with three kind-of strangers - that he would never leave his brother of his dad for any extended amount of time ever again.

At least, not both of them at the same time like this. If dad had to go on a hunting trip, he'd stay with Dean. And if Dean…well, really, Sam couldn't think of a good reason to ever leave his brother's side again.

So good, that was settled.

Now he just had to put up with Cal's stupid adventure for a little while longer.

"Okay," Dee-Dee whispered a few minutes later as they all stopped in unison in front of a door labeled with large numbers. 938, Sam read them. "This is it. Every one ready?"

"Just open the damn door." Annie demanded impatiently, and Sam rolled his eyes again. She reminded him of some of the girls he went to school with.

For once, Dee-Dee didn't snap back. She just let out a deep breath and took the card Sam had stolen from her pocket, she looked at it for a long moment before turning around and swiping through the gray metal box on the wall next to the door that seemed to be there for that purpose alone.

Both Cal and Annie looked like they were holding their breaths and Sam wondered absently what they were so nervous about.

After a second or two the tiny dots on the box changed from red to green - just like a traffic light, Sam noticed - and the door beeped.

Smiles broke out on everyone's faces as Cal did the honors and pulled the door open.

Sam thought, finally.

"Yes?" John answered stiffly. This was not what he needed right now.

"I need to talk to you about your sons."

"Did you find Sammy?" He couldn't help but question hopefully, knowing that the tiny frown that broke out on her thin lips probably wasn't a good sign.

"No," she answered expectantly. "But the police called me when they got the report of a missing child."

"Why?" Best to know what your in trouble for, before you go trying to defend yourself.

"It's standard procedure." She said it just a little too casually.

"Okay," the eldest hunter accepted grudgingly. "So what do you want to talk about?"

"Mostly, Mr. Winchester," Her gray eyes locked with his and John saw all the suspicion and unguarded anger that she held there. "I want to know how it is both your sons ended up in the hospital tonight."

Lying had always been one of John's strong points -even before he'd delved into the supernatural side of the world - and words flowed from his mouth naturally, believingly. "Dean, my eldest son, fell down the stairs. Sammy happened to be standing at the bottom. Bless his little heart, he tried to catch his brother, when he saw him falling, but he's only seven and Dean knocked him right into the railing."

She made a 'hmm' sound silently took some notes on a pad of paper she was carrying. "How many stairs was it?" Her gaze didn't falter.

John pictured the staircase at the motel they were staying at, the one outside that lead to the second floor of rooms. "It was a full flight of stairs, but Dean only fell about halfway down. Tripped over his shoelaces."

"Where were you when all this happened?" As if to imply he was a bad parent because he couldn't keep tabs on his children twenty-four seven.

You try it, lady. John wanted to bite harsh words at her. You try raising two boys on your own.

"In our room," he wasn't hiding the location of where they'd been staying. He just wasn't advertising it.

"You let them out by themselves?" He glanced unconsciously to her left hand. She wasn't married. She probably had no experience on parenting; she'd just made her life duty about criticizing how others went about it.

"They're boys." John sighed, rubbing his eyes so hard that when he looked up again he saw bright spots dancing in his field of vision. "I set rules, and most of the time they follow them, but I can't be their watchdog."

"You sound like you don't really care your son is missing." Did he now? John's eyebrows shot up disbelievingly. "Do you believe this is no big deal? That boys will be boys?"

"I-"

But he never got the chance to finish. "Did you hurt your sons?"

"No." The ex-Marine barked harshly. In a way, he'd known it'd been coming, but the question still managed to throw him. Like he'd ever hurt Sam or Dean. His sons. Mary's sons. It was unfathomable. "Why would you even think that?"

"There was bruising on Dean's abdomen." She steeled her gaze, obviously thinking John's disbelief was an act. "Bruises in the shape of handprints."

Well damn it all to hell.

"Well?" Cal stood before Sam with a massive grin, the boy could only look at what was before them in a sort of awed trance.

"Is this a zoo?" The seven-year-old questioned. He knew that it wasn't, but it was the only thing that made sense.

Before Cal and Sam, who stood right in front of the now closed gray metal door of the infiltrated hospital room, sat dozens of cages, and in those cages were more animals than Sam had ever seen up close in his entire life.

He could scarcely tear his eyes away from them. He saw dogs, cats, rabbits, ferrets; everything he always saw in the pet stores when he could get Dean to take him into one. Yet there were also monkeys, small ones, but that didn't deter Sam's excitement, and birds and a couple other small, furry things he couldn't put a name to.

"No," Cal clasped a hand on his shoulder, but Sam barely even noticed. He watched as Dee-Dee and Annie went to two smaller cages and started cooing the animals – a bird and a large rabbit – to stay still and quiet. "This isn't a zoo."

They lifted the cages and started back out the door.

Sam could only watch. This wasn't what he'd been expecting. At all. The sheer unexpectedness of it made him forget about the pain in his side and his growing need find his family.

They had to move out of the way so the girls could get past him, Cal steering Sam's motionless body for him.

Annie just gave him a wide grin before sticking her head out the door, declaring, "All clear." And leaving again with the bunny quivering in the cage she held.

Annie stopped for longer, her bird flapping its wings incessantly, but not squawking like some of the others.

"We do good, Sam." She told him before leaving.

"These animals are here so doctors can do tests on them." Sam followed Cal farther into the room, there were aisles made of tables and cages, the one they were in had mostly cats. A few hissed at them.

The younger of the two absorbed these words. "Are they sick?"

"No," Cal sighed, and for the first time since Sam met him in that elevator- which seemed so long ago now – he sounded sad. "The doctors give them medicine, the stuff they give humans, before they can give it to the people. They test on them."

Sam's face must have betrayed his confusion.

"They hurt them." He said in a serious tone that reminded Sam of talks with his father.

He'd never like that tone.

"Why?"

"Because they can." Cal said simply, and it was unfamiliar; Sam had gotten used to never understanding what the older man was saying.

"But…bu-" he bit his lip then, feeling like he was about to cry. He like animals, had always wanted a pet. Why would people – people you're supposed to trust – hurt them for no reason? "That's not fair."

"That's life." He said it gently, with his hand still on his shoulder squeezing lightly like Dean did sometimes, and it made him feel a little better.

Of course, Sam already knew that life wasn't fair. Had learned that the first time he'd asked his brother why they didn't have a mommy like all the other kids. But still, this new level of people being mean… he didn't want to know about it.

"But we're getting them out of here." Cal's voice was more upbeat as he stuck his hand through the bars of a cage and stroked a purring, gray cat. "We're gonna take them someplace safe." Cal looked down at him calmly. "Wanna help?"

Sam met his eyes after only a moment of hesitation and nodded firmly, feeling like, for the first time this whole long, long night, he got to chose something for himself. "Yeah."