A/N: Four dozen cookies baked. Three bags of groceries purchased. One pint of blood donated. One appointment I'm rushing out the door to make. O ne new chapter posted first. Yeah, I'm done for the day as soon as I get home. Hee hee.

Don't Judge a Book
Chapter Six

Dean felt kind of bad when he saw the look on Cecilia's face even though he'd told her the truth. Dad was going to kill these guys, or at least beat them up. Sometimes hearing the truth hurt. He knew that. Someone old like Cecilia had to know that too. He turned so he faced the back of the sofa. He didn't want to look at these strangers anymore, plus it was easier to spy that way. He pretended to go to sleep fast, almost accidentally doing it. His stomach was full of cookies and milk, the taste of chocolate still in his mouth, and he was nearly as tired as he was angry. He shouldn't have eaten them or had the milk. Dad would never have made that kind of mistake. Dad wouldn't have panicked and hidden in the wrong place, either.

Dean swore he would do better next time if this ever happened again, that was all.

He heard the grownups leave the room, and soon after that heard them arguing. Dean couldn't hear what they were saying, but the sound of their voices was enough for him to know they weren't happy. He had also been telling the truth when he'd told Cecilia she was nice. Unlike Rick and AJ, he had gotten a good feeling about her the second he saw her. She looked safe, somehow. So he really did feel bad about making her upset, but not that bad. Her sons were the ones who wanted to take him and Sammy away from Dad, and that made them bad and him mad. Maybe almost as mad as Dad was going to be when he found out.

Sammy made a soft smacking noise and shifted on the sofa, like he was dreaming. He always moved around when he dreamed, sometimes hitting Dean with his small fists and kicking him in the belly, sometimes throwing a chubby arm across Dean's neck. It usually woke Dean up, but he didn't mind. Tonight he didn't want to worry about what his brother might be dreaming or that he might roll off the couch or something. He didn't want to worry about Sammy waking up and being sad or confused.

Dean was supposed to be pretending to sleep, but he decided it would be better if he did that next to his brother. He scooted to the other end of the sofa and took up a post on the outer edge of the cushion, keeping Sammy on the inside where he'd be safest. Sam's hair tickled. Instead of pulling away, Dean pushed his nose against his brother's head to keep him still and to keep the tickling from getting too bad. He should have known better, as Sam started wriggling more right away. Sammy always fussed when he felt like he was being held in place, trapped. Dean didn't let up, though. Just for a second, he hugged his brother.

"I won't let them keep us," Dean whispered in Sammy's ear. "I know where to go, Sammy. I just don't know how to get there yet. They can't keep us from Dad."

Somehow he had to get him and Sammy out of there. If he could get out of this house, they'd be okay. Dean understood what it meant to have no choices. He had no choice here. He couldn't stay. It didn't matter that they'd driven a long way away from the motel, from Dad, or that he had no idea what direction to go once they got away. Those were small things. He remembered how Rick had talked about Mom, his stomach started hurting. He already didn't have a mom. He couldn't let these people take them away from Dad too. Not happening. Sam's foot kicked, hit Dean in the leg. Dean let go of his brother, but stayed close.

"Don't worry," he said. "Don't worry, Sammy."

But Dean was worried. The voices outside the room got louder. He heard words he didn't like. Abuse. Sick. Foster. Prison. Hearing them, though, he knew he didn't have time to be mad or upset about Mom or anything else. Dad always told him to keep his head. Until now, he wasn't sure what that meant exactly. Now he knew and it made him feel worse, even though he tried to make himself strong. He heard footsteps coming closer, so he shut his eyes and tried to look fast asleep. He'd learned to fake it a long time ago, so he could get up and watch TV all by himself when Dad left for the night. He could fool these people, easy peasy mac and cheesy.

"Look at them," Cecilia said. "It about breaks my heart."

"Funny, what that one about broke on me is my nose, maybe a couple ribs."

"Rick, he's just a boy. He couldn't hurt you. You can't blame him for trying, either. He was probably terrified."

Cecilia had that mom-voice Dean remembered his own mom using with his dad sometimes, the one that was love and disappointment at the same time. He heard Rick snort like he didn't believe what his mom just said. Good. No one could ever know when Dean was scared. That was important. Dad said it was. It was easier to make men believe he was tough than women, and Dean didn't know why. He would have to learn that sometime. Right now, he didn't care. Right now, he had to believe that Rick was right, that he was not scared. He knew he could never really convince anyone else if he couldn't convince himself.

"Terrified, maybe, but he's really very capable for a little boy," AJ said. "Look at Rick's lip."

"You're not going to let that one go, are you?"

"Not for a long time."

"Hmm."

Dean smelled powder and something sweet a second before hands began touching his hair. He tried hard not to move, when that was all he wanted to do. It was Cecilia, and her hands moved from his hair to his shoulder and arm and all over. The touch wasn't bad, but it bothered him anyway. He didn't know what she was doing. Her hands left him and by the way Sam started wiggling, he knew she was touching Sammy too. It was even harder to pretend he was sleeping then, but he did it. The touching stopped, and he felt something soft and fuzzy pulled over him up to his shoulders. It was a blanket and it had the same powdery, sweet smell as Cecilia.

"Are you boys sure about this?" she murmured. "There doesn't seem to be a mark on them."

"Maybe not any physical ones," AJ said. He sounded softer than Rick, always. "That doesn't mean they haven't been hurt badly."

"Jesus," Rick said. "I don't want to talk about this anymore tonight. I'm not sure I want to talk about it, ever."

The grownups were quiet for a long time. Dean could tell they were staring at him and Sammy. He could hear them breathing. All he had to do was wait and they would go away or something. He could do it. Dad would watch him and Sam for an hour straight sometimes. He could wait and then he could figure out how to get out of there.

"Well, I doubt I'm going to get any sleep now," Cecilia said with a sigh. "You boys up for some coffee?"

"Sounds great, Mom," AJ said.

"We get cookies too, right?" Rick asked.

"I don't think you deserve any cookies, sweetheart." Cecilia's voice got quieter as they all moved from the room again. "You two have pulled some crazy stunts over the years, but I'm not letting you smile your way out of this one."

Dean knew he liked Cecilia for an actual reason, not just a feeling he had. It was because she was nice and smart. He was starting to think she was a pretty good mom. Moms weren't always supposed to let their kids have cookies, especially when they were naughty. Dean saw that on TV all the time. He knew his mom would have always had cookies for him, though, and for Sammy too. He scrunched his eyes tight, rubbing at them with a knuckle to make the tears go away. He didn't have time to be a big crybaby. Sometimes he just really, really missed his mom. Sometimes he hated it that other people got to be big and they still had their moms but he didn't.

Sammy wriggled, jostling the couch and Dean. He didn't mind the distraction. He settled in, ready to deal with his brother dreaming and kicking again, but it didn't happen. He opened his eyes a crack and found Sam had turned to face him, Dean's old teddy bear on his tummy, and his eyes were open too. Sammy was half-asleep and there was gross stuff in the corners of his eyes, but he smiled a little as he patted Dean on the arm. Then he squeezed the bear close and went back to sleep.

Dean reminded himself it wasn't just so they could get away that he had to be brave and strong. It was for Sam. It was for Dad, too, but mostly it was for Sam, and it was all the time not only tonight. He didn't know if it would be his job if his mom hadn't died, but it didn't matter because his mom did die and now he had to make sure Sammy always knew things were okay. Dad would do it instead of him, only Dean thought maybe his dad was too busy keeping them safe to do that too. That was Dad's way of showing them things were okay. Dean believed that. He had to.

The smell of coffee drifted into the room. Dean heard the clink of cups, slight thumping of cupboards closing, and the voices of the grownups were now like a soft buzzing noise. He wasn't sure if they were far enough away for him to get Sammy out of there without them noticing. Maybe if he hadn't tried so hard to run before, Rick and AJ wouldn't think he would try to get away now. They wouldn't think that maybe he could. He couldn't take it back now. Dad always said what was done was done. Dean decided the only way he could know for sure if the grownups were far enough away was to get up and see where they were. He could be sneaky and quiet, and he needed to know if there was another door or window that wouldn't be hard to get Sammy out of.

He turned onto his back, staring at the dark shapes in the room for a minute. There was a beam of light, not very bright, coming through the open doorway so Dean knew which way the kitchen was. He lifted the blanket off him and rolled off the couch. Sammy moved around the second Dean was gone, but didn't wake up again.

"I'll be right back, Sammy," he whispered.

Dean only made it to the door when he heard the grownups moving again. The footsteps were heavy, the men. He froze, heart beating fast. He was too far away from the couch to get back and pretend to be asleep again. All he could do was stand there and try not to panic. They might not notice him if he didn't move. The footsteps didn't come close, though. He heard a slight swoosh of a door opening, talking too quiet to understand, and the door shutting again. Then a minute later, the big truck starting and driving off. Even though he hadn't been caught, his heart kept beating fast. Someone had left. Rick or AJ or both of them. Dean smiled. They must be real big dummies leaving him and Sammy alone with an old lady.

With the house all quiet now, Dean could hear the shuffle of Cecilia walking. She was heading for him and Sam, but she was old so he thought he had a chance to make it to the sofa in time. He ran and slid back under the blanket next to Sammy, trying to slow his breathing so he sounded asleep. He could tell Cecilia was close, but she hadn't come in the room yet. He started to get nervous because she stayed at the door for a long time, not moving. She was just an old lady. That didn't mean he could save him and Sam if she stood at the door staring.

"You can stop pretending, young man," Cecilia said at last, her voice low. "I know very well that you're not sleeping."

Dean stiffened. He didn't move otherwise, hoping she was only guessing. She had to be guessing. If he could fool Dad, he had to have fooled these people. He waited. Cecilia moved into the room more. She wasn't going to leave them alone. Crappy crap crap, anyway. That bad feeling was in his stomach stronger than ever. What if he couldn't get them to the safe place? Dad didn't come back in time to save them before, what if he didn't this time either? That couldn't be possible. Dad was the greatest.

"Come on, sweetheart." Cecilia's voice was so close now. "It's okay."

It wasn't okay. Dean was very afraid it would never be okay again and that he had screwed up and lied to Sammy about that. He didn't think he liked Cecilia that much anymore, either.