A/N: Another chapter, for those not Stateside (on a holiday weekend), or those Stateside with no plans (like me!). Enjoy!

Don't Judge a Book
Chapter Two

These were the people monsters Daddy warned him about.

People weren't supposed to be as scary as real monsters, but Dean Winchester had a hard time believing that at the moment. He wasn't gonna give up, though, not while Sammy was right there needing to be protected. He opened his mouth, ready to shout for help the way Dad said he should if he really, really had to, but then the yellow-haired guy kneeling down right next to Sammy and reaching a hand toward him.

"Don't you touch him! Don't you touch my brother!" he shouted instead, suddenly sure he could break out of the strong hold grownup hands had on him.

He was proud when he heard an oof from behind him as his elbow contacted the man's stomach, but upset when that was as far as he could get. He watched Sammy smile at the strange man wearing all black, the way he smiled at everyone these days.

"Nose," Sammy said, and pulled at the guy's nose.

"Ow, hey," the kneeling guy said as he pried Sam's fingers off his face. He held onto the small hand. "Hey there, little fella."

Dean shook with anger and the need to get his brother away from these bad men. He'd failed. He'd missed an easy shot, not realizing how heavy the gun would be when it counted, and now he couldn't break free. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest.

"We're really not going to hurt you, you know," the man holding him said, the rumble of words vibrating into Dean's back.

"People always say that," Dean said. He raised a leg up and brought his foot back, hoping to hurt the man enough for him to get free. It didn't work.

"You just do not give up, do you?" The man tightened his hold.

Sammy lost interest in yellow-hair at last, looking over at Dean. He got that look on his face he always did when he was trying to figure something out. He was only a baby still, but Dean knew he wasn't stupid. He could tell when Dean was mad or glad or sad. Or scared. Sammy's lower lip began to tremble. He'd figured out this wasn't part of some game they were playing. Really, Dean thought it was lucky the gun hadn't scared Sammy to tears before.

Yellow-hair gave the man holding onto Dean a scared look of his own when Sam began to wail. He picked Sammy up like he was a sack of potatoes, not a boy. It was obvious he didn't know what he was doing.

"You leave him alone," Dean said.

Sam cried even harder, so much his face turned red.

Dean wanted his dad to come through the door right now. He watched yellow-hair try to calm Sammy down, jostling him around a bit and saying words Dean couldn't hear. He was too focused on his brother sobbing his eyes out. Sammy reached his arms toward Dean, which made him again struggle against the strong grip that held him in place.

"Let me go."

"I would, kid, but I'm not sure you won't try to beat me to death," the guy said.

Dean could hear the smile in the man's voice, and it only made him mad. This wasn't funny. Dean did what he had to do. He butted his head back against the guy's face, so hard he saw a few stars himself. But the hands holding him loosened enough for him to slide free. There was no way he'd make it with Sam out the door and he knew it. He didn't really care. He marched up to yellow-hair.

"Give me my brother, mister," Dean demanded.

Sammy was really getting too big for him to carry around, but Dean didn't care about that either as his brother slid from the stranger's arms into his own. He was surprised how easily the man had handed over his brother. He didn't think any more about it. All that mattered was that he had Sammy again. His brother wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, and his legs around Dean's back. Dean felt better. They were still in trouble, but at least they were together. If Dad didn't get back soon, he knew he was going to have to figure out how to get away all by himself. He thought again about shouting for help, but he didn't want to make Sammy cry some more.

"It's okay now, Sammy."

Dean glared at the two men, now standing and staring down at him. The one that had grabbed him was wearing all black too, and had a moustache, but Dean could see blood on the bottom lip. He was proud of himself for that one. Dad would be too. Yellow-hair picked up the shotgun and the handguns they'd pointed at him and Sammy, a worried expression on his face. The grownups stood next to each other, between him and Sammy and the door. They kept staring.

"What do we do, Rick? We can't just leave them here," yellow-hair said softly. "Can we?"

"I don't know, AJ. I was expecting pictures, maybe a few stolen pairs of underwear. Not kids."

Rick and AJ. Dean filed the names away, in case he needed them. He shouldn't. Something inside was telling him to run for the door, even if he knew he wouldn't make it. He wasn't going down without a fight. Daddy, where are you?

"Look at this place. They're just children, for God's sake." Yellow-hair … AJ looked around the room, frowning. "I don't think I want to know what kind of person leaves children unattended in a flea-ridden motel room while he goes and plays voyeur."

"It's not like he's an upstanding citizen," Rick said, rubbing the blood off his lip with the back of his hand. "The guy is a pervert. Besides, we don't know these are his kids. He's a ghost in the system as far as we can tell."

"That's true. Oh, God." AJ's mouth opened and closed again, and his eyebrows went all funny for a second. "What if they're not his kids?"

"Then this just got a lot more interesting."

"I knew there was something off about this case."

"So did I."

"What? You did? Why didn't you say anything? This could be way bigger than we're prepared to handle. Kidnapping. Maybe child pornography."

"Oh, don't even say that," Rick said. "If that's what's going on, I will personally kick this guy's ass."

Grownups didn't believe kids could hear when they were being talked about and around. Dean heard everything, and he didn't like what they were saying one bit. He wanted to tell them they were both jackasses and that they didn't know anything about his dad or him or Sammy. He didn't know what po … por … he didn't know all the words they were using, but he recognized how they were saying them. Dad was a hero, and these men talked about him like he was a bad thing. A monster. They were the monsters. They were here to take him and Sam away. He could not let that happen.

Dean moved closer to the door instead, knowing the men had probably forgotten he and Sam were there. They didn't seem to know anything about kids in the first place. He didn't think these people monsters were so scary after all. Except they were. Sammy was still like an octopus around him, forehead on his shoulder. Hiding. It was better that way. He didn't want Sam to know when bad things happened. He wouldn't remember this. Dean had to be strong for him, and pretend that his heart wasn't beating just as fast as it was earlier. He took one more step toward the door.

He almost loosened his hold on Sammy when a hand slapped against the door, loud, right above his head.

"Anh-anh, junior," Rick said, staring down at him with a mean look on his face. "You're not going anywhere."

The moustache made him seem tough. Maybe not as tough as Dad, but tough.

"Rick, you're scaring them," AJ said and crouched down, with a smile on his face. His teeth were perfect and white.

Dean wanted to punch him. He couldn't do that and keep hanging onto Sammy. Taking care of Sammy won like it always did, but if the chance came up again he was going to knock that guy's teeth loose.

"I'm not scared of you," Dean said, jutting his jaw out. There was no escape. Dad wasn't going to get here in time to help them. He wanted to cry but knew he couldn't. "I'm no scaredy-cat."

"I can tell you're not." AJ smiled wider. "The way you beat up my brother, I can tell you're really brave. Nobody can beat up Rick. I've been trying since I was still in diapers, like your brother there."

Brothers. Dean glared, not liking that he almost felt better about the two men because they were kind of like him and Sam. No, he told himself. They were nothing like him and Sam.

"Hey, that's overstating things," Rick said. "He got in a few lucky jabs here and there, maybe."

"Ha. You've got a split lip. I'd say that's more than luck."

"He's probably in some mini boxing league or something."

Dad had told him about this game people played too. Dean knew they were trying to be nice and funny so he would relax. Their voices were louder than they had to be and sounded fake. It was a trick and he wasn't going to fall for it. Not ever. They weren't nice and they weren't funny. Sammy stirred against him, finally lifting up his head. His nose was snotty. Gross.

"Dean," he murmured, tugging at one of his ears. "Okay?"

Sammy liked the softness of his own earlobes. He played with one or both of them when he was scared or worried or tired, the way Dean used to have his special blanket before Mom … before it only ever smelled like smoke. Dean could usually figure out what his brother was feeling when he got to tugging on his ear. Tonight he was too mixed-up himself. His insides felt like they might come apart. The best he could do was tighten his hold on Sam and make sure the bad men didn't take him.

"Yeah. It's okay, Sammy, I gotcha," Dean said, lying. "You can go back to sleep."

"Okay. 'M tired."

Sammy put his head down, face pressed against Dean's neck. Dean could tell he fell asleep almost right away, getting heavier still to hold onto. He leaned against the wall next to the door, but didn't take his eyes off Rick and AJ. Dad always said not to relax around monsters of any kind.

"How old's your brother?" Rick asked, now talking quiet again but he was still standing with one hand pressed against the door.

"None of your business."

Rick and AJ looked at each other, not saying anything for a long time. AJ stood, giving up trying to talk to Dean. Good. Dean clenched his jaw tight the way he saw Dad do all the time, narrowing his eyes.

"Rick, whether the kids are his or not, this is at the very least flat-out neglect," AJ whispered, as if Dean wasn't right there. "We should call the police. Get them some real help."

At the "P" word, Dean took action. He didn't think about it. He slammed his right heel into Rick's instep. It hurt him too, since he was barefoot, but he heard the man yelp and saw him jump back. Dean opened the door and ran with Sammy out into the dark night.