Heroes

By: Maygin

Summary: "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."

- Edmund Burke (1729-1797)

It's a short chapter, but I'll be uploading chapter 7 on Saturday so you won't have a long wait. Thank you all again for your reviews!!!

Chapter 6

Dean flipped the newspaper over, glancing up every once in a while to peruse the other occupants in the diner. He'd come early and sat his butt down in the furthest booth from the diner's entryway. Mable had already forced him to eat an entire buffet of breakfast foods and had made it clear to the head waitress that she was to keep a close eye on him… keep his water filled and his tummy happy. He sometimes wondered if this was what it was like to have a mother.

He sighed and turned the page on the paper; he'd read through the entire thing twice already. He'd been sitting in the same booth for the last three and a half hours, with the exception of a few very short bathroom breaks. He knew it was a long shot; Denise had said he only came a few times a month anyways. But he was betting his money on the necklace the kid had left behind.

Sure enough, the annoying little bell suddenly announced the presence of the tall, brown haired kid who stepped to the side and held the door open for an elderly woman who was leaving. Dean's eyes followed him to the counter where he slid onto one of the red, sparkly bar stools and waited for someone to notice him.

Mable walked out of the kitchen and spied the young man instantly. She smiled widely and reached forward to squeeze his hands that rested on the countertop. "Matthew, honey! I haven't seen you in forever!"

Matt laughed quietly, looking down bashfully. "I was just here a few days ago Mable."

"You were?" She questioned in her boisterous voice, though it was obvious she knew perfectly well he had been. He nodded anyways, simply to appease her. "Well it feels like forever. You hungry? Marcus has been tryin his hand at Crepe's this morning. They're not too bad if you smother em in strawberries."

Matt shook his head politely with a smile, "Actually I just stopped by to pick up the necklace I left here. Denise said she'd put it behind the counter?"

"Oh yeah, she did mention that." Mable started rifling through the many containers behind the counter. "Here it is," she triumphantly held up the necklace and dropped it in his waiting hand.

"Thanks Mable." He stuffed the object into his raggedy jacket pocket for safekeeping. "Can I please also get a coffee to go?"

"Of course you can," she gushed, happy to offer him something. She grabbed a to-go cup and the pot of coffee from behind her and filled it to the brim. She topped it off and set it on the counter. "Here you go sweetie."

"Thanks," Matt pulled an old, torn wallet from his back pocket and started to pull out a couple dollars.

"I got it." Dean slapped a five dollar bill on the counter and sat down next to the surprised kid with a smile.

Mable grinned at the other man knowingly, "You be good Winchester," she pointed at him.

"I'm always good," he assured. She huffed good-naturedly and then disappeared back into the kitchen.

"Name's Dean." Dean held out his hand to which the other man stared at warily for a moment before his senses kicked back in.

"Matt," the young man offered, shaking his hand while he put his wallet away. "Thanks."

"I've seen you in here a few times, thought I'd introduce myself," he explained. Matt nodded his head in acceptance, though it was obvious he was still incredibly leery of him. "You go to college around here?"

Matt licked his lips, considering his answer. He shook his head. "No, I uh… I travel around a lot."

"Oh yeah? For work?"

The other man tilted his head slightly, "Yeah sort of."

"Sort of?"

Matt shrugged, picking at his fingernails. "It's kind of a long story."

"Sounds like it." Dean watched the other man fidget under his stare. "So where'ya from?"

"Around here."

"Yeah? Were you born here?"

Matt started scratching the grooves in the counter with his thumb nail. "I don't know, I uh… I was abandoned as a kid."

Dean started chewing on his bottom lip, wondering how much he could get out of the kid before he just up and ran. "Your last name wouldn't happen to be Brayman would it?"

Matt froze, looking much to like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. The pathetically guarded look on the kids face almost made Dean want to take him home himself as if he were some kind of stray puppy. He suddenly understood Mable's need to spoil the boy.

He figured the lack of answer was all the affirmation he needed. "You know the little church on Eighth Street? I'm willing to bet you spent a lot of time there growin up huh?" Dean jerked his head a little, "Probably know Father Jim?"

Matt still didn't answer him; he just stared at him with wide eyes, looking ready to bolt out the front door. Dean stared hard, demanding some kind of response. "What were you doing on Delmar the other night Matt?"

Matt turned back to his coffee, gripping it tightly; wide green eyes begging for an escape route. Dean saw it and knew it the moment it flashed in the kid's eyes; but he'd still been unable to prevent it.

Ricky, the bus-boy, had just been passing behind them with a big, tub-full of dishes when Matthew decided to make a run for it. He had to give the kid credit; it had been perfectly timed. Dean had turned to make a grab at him and ran smack into Ricky; an entire symphony of smashing dishes filled the unusually quiet diner. He grabbed the bus-boy's arm to prevent him from falling into the shards of glass and porcelain that now littered the floor.

The once-quiet diner erupted into cheers and clapping at their misfortune. Dean ignored it all as he watched Matthew Brayman sprinting down the street, disappearing behind a building.

TBC…

I know, I know… short. But like I said, I'll upload chap 7 on Saturday. Thank you again for reading!