A/N: What say you, my faithful and highly appreciated few, to a new chapter every other day?

Don't Judge a Book
Chapter Five

Rick wasn't sure they were doing the right thing. He also wasn't sure he knew what the right thing was. That wasn't unusual for him, but in this case it seemed like a bigger deal. It was the kids. He and AJ had dealt with kids before, sure, but somehow these two were different. He didn't know how or why, but his gut was telling him so and his gut wasn't wrong often.

Mom was going to have a major conniption fit when they showed up at her house with two ragamuffin, scrappy kids; she was usually calm about everything, but that feeling in Rick's gut told him, among many things, that this was going to be different. This was the straw that'd break Mom's back. Still, he didn't disagree that carting them off to the cops wasn't a particularly good idea either. At least he knew Mom was a good … mom. Yeah, he was rattled. He couldn't let it show. He had a feeling the older boy would be all over him if he let any sign of indecision slip.

"Well," Rick said quietly to AJ, while he kept a wary eye and hand on the boy, Dean, "do you think we oughta grab their stuff? Maybe the baby's got a security blanket or somethin'."

"You might be hanging onto his security blanket right now," AJ said, with a nod of his head.

The baby snuggled against AJ like he could snooze anywhere, but Rick would lay money down on the fact the kid was sleeping only because his brother was right there. He was too young to be as fierce about it as Dean was, but the pair of them had an obvious, tight connection; they had to, in their situation. Rick frowned at his own baby brother and wished he could say the same for them. Most days, he thought AJ had been switched at birth or something and he wasn't so dense he didn't get that AJ thought the exact same thing about him. Didn't mean he didn't love the guy. Didn't mean he wouldn't do anything for AJ.

"I think you're right about that, AJ." Rick squinted at the truck for a second, thinking. "They'll need fresh clothes. Diapers."

"He only wears 'em at night now," Dean said. He glowered when Rick and AJ gaped down at him. He spoke slower, like they were idiots. "He's already mostly potty trained. It doesn't matter, we won't be here tomorrow anyway."

If the kid weren't anything but a kid, Rick might have considered that a threat of some kind. He didn't exactly know what the threat was, but it was there in the kid's tone and body language. It practically radiated off him. Rick shot a look at AJ, who stared at Dean as if the kid were going to punch one of them in the nose. The boy just might, and his attention was more keenly on AJ. Now that would be a nice change of pace on this crazy night, and he had to admit some small part of him would enjoy seeing someone else get popped by the junior prizefighter. Even AJ.

"You're right," Rick said. "You'll be somewhere else."

Tomorrow at this hour this poor kid and his poor baby brother would be in the custody of a social worker, probably a foster family. Rick wasn't sure which, and he tried to pretend the details didn't really matter, tried to pretend these kids were likely going to go from a rotten situation to an only slightly less rotten one. He knew one thing for sure, and that was he was going to enjoy putting this pervo bastard away for good. Getting their mystery man was going to be so gratifying. It was all he could do, except give the boys one night of peace before their lives turned into that different brand of chaos. Well, maybe he could also talk Mom into making fresh waffles in the morning. Dean looked like a waffle man, and he thought he might need the comfort food himself by seven AM.

"I'll get them to the truck. You go in and grab whatever looks like it's theirs," AJ said. He shifted between his feet and scoped out the dim parking lot. "We should get out of here sooner rather than later, if you know what I mean."

Twofold. Their perp could come back in the middle of this rescue attempt, or some lowlife could come out of the shadows and make things all kinds of messy for them. They'd been lucky so far, but in this neighborhood luck wasn't something to be counted on for long. He nodded at AJ and returned to the room. Giving a frown to the abandoned shotgun, Rick kicked it aside and picked up the raggedy, one-eyed teddy bear that had been lying next to it. One of its legs was stitched onto its body with coarse, black thread, and that was somehow one of the saddest things he'd ever seen. Rick hadn't thought it possible to become any angrier about this mess. He'd been wrong.

"Looks like you've seen some hard times, Mr. Bear. It's time for a better home," Rick said to the toy, whose head tilted to the side as if it were sentient and pondering the idea.

He reconsidered the plan. Taking them to Mom's might be the nice thing to do, but they should run like hell to the cops. He and AJ were not equipped to deal with a kidnapper/pedophile/child pornographer/whatever this guy was, and they both knew it. He just had to figure out a way to bring his change of heart up with AJ, because little Dean was sharp as a tack and would scream bloody murder at the mere hint of a cop shop. He wouldn't doubt the kid was even now concocting stories about him and AJ, in case they reneged on their no-police verbal agreement.

If they weren't going to handle the kids tonight, he thought he'd phone in a tip about suspicious activity at the Dolphin Motel. He didn't want this chump to make a break for it, though, he thought with a cringe, chances were he wouldn't leave without trying to get the children.

All of a sudden, Rick itched to get out of there. He found a duffel bag filled with child-sized clothing and a few old comic books. Not wanting to spend any more time in the room, Rick shoved the bear into the bag and left. He glanced back one last time, then clicked the door shut. Whether they took the kids to the authorities or to Mom's, he felt good about getting them away from this place.

As he approached the truck, he couldn't help but notice two things: the uncomfortable expression on AJ's face which remained firmly in place, and the I'm-not-interested-in-this-but-I-am expression on Dean's as the boy studied the interior of the Power Wagon. Rick smiled. He was actually starting to think he could like this boy. He had good taste. He was feisty. He seemed resilient given the situation.

"Got your things, kid," Rick said when he opened the door. He tossed the duffel on the floor near AJ's feet and looked at Dean. "Like the truck?"

Dean snapped to attention, fixing his gaze on the windshield. He clamped his mouth closed and kept his back ramrod straight as Rick started the truck and got them on the road.

Shit, Rick thought, what kind of life has this kid lived? He caught a worried frown from AJ. Rick raised his eyebrows and mouthed "Town" at his brother, who at least had the courtesy of pausing a second before pursing his lips and shaking his head. One look at the rosy-cheeked sleeper snuggled against AJ had Rick hedging again. That baby didn't need exposure to whatever the drunks and prostitutes were carrying.

"Mom's probably going to kill us," he muttered.

"I'll handle Mom," AJ said just as quietly. "It's only for the night, until we can get them some real help."

"We don't need your stupid help," Dean said, seeming angrier, tougher and more panicked than ever. "We don't need your m-mom's help."

Rick frowned at the slight stutter. Instinctively, he knew something was there, something more than a kid trying to find his way out of a scary spot. He had no idea why he cared, but at the same time he couldn't not.

"Speaking of moms, where exactly is yours, Dean?" he asked. He heard Dean gasp, a small sound the boy wasn't able to keep from escaping. Rick didn't look down. He didn't want to, because he knew what he was doing was shitty. He pressed the issue, though. "Where is she in all this mess? I can't believe she'd like you holed up in a motel with your little brother like that. Did the bad man take you from her?"

"You shut up about my mom. You don't know anything." Dean punctuated the order with a sharp, expertly placed jab to Rick's ribcage. Then another. "You shut up about my dad too."

Rick struggled to keep the truck under control, stunned by the strength of the punch but also at the confirmation that their perp was the kids' father. He'd like to be relieved they weren't standard kidnap victims. He wasn't, not even a little.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I won't mention it again," Rick said. He really was very sorry he'd gone there. He more than suspected the kid's mother was either across the globe, or was more likely dead. These kids probably had a dead mother and a screwed up fuck of a father. Jesus. "You're loud and clear, buster."

The rest of the ride was made in silence, though Rick could feel both AJ and Dean looking at him off and on. He could also feel how the boy shook like was about ready to fly apart with anger and fear. Rick abandoned all thoughts of taking the boys to the police, a surge of what he supposed might be paternal instinct overpowering logic. Town would understand and help them out tomorrow. Well, no. Town wouldn't understand at all, but he would help them.

Mom's house was dark and quiet. It looked like a refuge to Rick, as it almost always did. Tonight, more than ever the familiar angles and planes were more like welcoming arms than walls and roof. He was under no illusion that a plate of waffles in the morning was going to make anything better, not really, but Mom would still give these boys some tiny amount of comfort before they were tossed to the foster system. That option was looking better and better. But if that guy actually was their father, he and AJ could be in some serious trouble and be bona fide kidnappers. Even if the guy was an abusive son of a bitch. This world was too screwed up to think about most of the time.

To his great surprise, Dean didn't make any aggressive moves when he leaned to retrieve the duffel bag before Rick slid out of the truck, ushering the kid to follow out the driver's side while AJ struggled with the sleeping baby and his door. He knew the boy wouldn't run, but he expected to have his eye blackened by a well placed kick or two. It almost looked like the fight had gone out of Dean, save for the sullen, clenched jaw and stormy eyes. Had he said lately how much Mom was going to kill them? He wasn't sure the magic of Cecilia Simon was strong enough to enchant Dean. He clamped a hand on Dean's shoulder, a bit of overkill, but he didn't want to risk anything. By the time he and the boy made it to the sidewalk, he could see lights turning on in answer to AJ's knocking.

"I don't even want to kn…" Cecilia started to say. The bored, almost put-upon expression on her face changed to one of astonishment. "Boys! Who on earth are these little darlings?"

"Hi, Mom," AJ said, trying the sunny approach with a smile.

It looked like AJ banking on his charm winning any favors was a bad bet. Cecilia Simon's reaction to her sons showing up on her doorstep with two kids was icy.

"Don't you 'Hi Mom' me, young man." She tightened the belt of her robe, eyeing the toddler in AJ's arms first and then Dean. "I expect you two have a good explanation for this, and I can't wait to hear it."

"It's only for the night, Mom," Rick said.

Cecilia raised a hand in the air, silencing any further attempts they might make to explain before they even started. Her expression softened as she leaned down to Dean.

Rick was afraid his mother was going to end up with a fist to the nose. He gripped Dean's shoulder a little more tightly, earning a frown from his mother. Well, too bad. His ribs still ached and he was pretty sure his lower lip had swollen to twice its normal size. He was not taking any chances.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" Cecilia asked.

"Dean," Dean said, in that same gruff voice but which now seemed so much nicer.

"I'm Cecilia." She pointed to Sam. "Who's this little one?"

"M'brother." Still nice as pie. "His name's Sam. I call him Sammy."

"I don't know what's been going on, but if Rick and AJ think you should be here, they must have a good reason. And you must be almost as tired as your brother. What do you say we find you someplace to go get some sleep?"

"Okay, that would be good," Dean said. He even smiled. "Sometimes milk helps make me sleepier faster."

"I have just the thing," she said.

Cecilia straightened and looked at Rick, eyebrow arched. Hell to pay was putting it mildly. She pursed her lips as she led them to the kitchen, where she made quick work of getting Dean a heaping plate of cookies to go with his glass of milk. While the boy ate in silence, guarded by him and AJ, she put linens on the sofa as she glared repeatedly at them. The couch was plenty big enough for both of the boys. By the time she was done and back in the kitchen, Dean had polished off half the cookies and gulped his milk as if it might be taken away at any moment.

They all trooped to the sitting room, where Cecilia helped detach Sammy from AJ's arms. Her face softened further still at the sleepy noises the little one made when she set him down and at how compliantly Dean clambered onto the other end of the makeshift bed. The boy smiled sweetly when Cecilia rooted through the duffel bag, pulling out the ragged teddy bear and tucking it next to Sam.

Rick was confused yet again. It was like the kid had undergone a complete personality change in the span of a few minutes. Mom's cookies were good, but they couldn't perform miracles. He had no idea which kid was the real one. Maybe Dean was a real angel.

"Cecilia?" Dean murmured.

"Yes, dear?"

"You seem like a nice lady." He blinked, shaking his head. He looked grave. "So, for you, I'm really sorry my dad is going to kill your sons."

But then again, maybe not.