A/N: Dean's safe at the men's refuge, but for how long? What do the Harvelles think about that?
Bought And Sold (Chapter 5: No Place Like Home) by frostygossamer
Dean soon discovered that the other boys and men resident at the refuge all had their own sob stories. Some had been sold into prostitution. Many had been forced into marriage, often to abusive missuses, as he had. A few other unfortunates had been sexually assaulted by gangs of drunken women and then shunned by their families.
There was one young guy, named Adam, whose own mother had slashed his face with a knife when she discovered he was planning to elope with a liberal girl. He had needed stitches, and there was still the pale ghost of a scar across his left cheek, from eye to chin. His incensed mother had wanted to disfigure him, but quick-thinking medics had managed to save his looks. Sneaking out of hospital, he had fled straight to the refuge.
Adam and Dean became friends, Adam helping Dean out by watching little Samuel while Dean was doing his share of the household chores.
Dean found that life at the men's refuge wasn't too hard. Anything was better than the way he had been treated by the Harvelles. He got used to living there and he soon settled into its regular routine. Samuel thrived and even put on a little weight. He and his daddy began to bond. There, in the safety of the small enclosed yard behind the refuge, Samuel took his first steps into Dean's arms, and said his first word.
"Dada!"
After several quiet months, Dean stopped worrying about the Harvelles and began to think about his home back in Lawren, with his father and brother. He hadn't heard from them in so long and he missed them both so much. He wished he could see them again and introduce them to his little Samuel.
"Reckon you could get this letter to my dad, Bobby?" Dean asked one day, as they were hanging out communal washing in the refuge's backyard.
He pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to the older man, who took it a little reluctantly.
"Guess we could maybe manage that," Bobby said. "You thinking about going home?"
"Yeah, Bobby, I am," Dean confessed. "I'd love for Dad to see his grandson. And Sam. Little Samuel oughta meet his namesake."
Bobby smiled. Dean talked about his little brother all the time. It was evident he was proud of the youngster and that he missed him more then he would admit. The older guy had noticed the amulet Dean wore around his neck, and had overheard him talking to it more than once.
Bobby could understand that Dean had to feel isolated, with no contact from his nearest and dearest. But he knew, from experience, that such contact could be dangerous for someone in Dean's position.
"That could be a problem, son," he said. "May not be safe to take the tiddler back home. His mom could organize a snatch."
Dean's mouth dropped open. "Bobby, Jo never wanted Samuel. Why would she wanna snatch him?"
He had been living at the refuge for long enough that he had assumed the hue and cry had to be over. If the Harvelles had given up on him, why would they want a useless baby boy they didn't value, let alone love?
"It happens, boy," Bobby replied sadly. "Just 'cause the mom don't want the youngster don't mean she's gonna let YOU keep him. Heck, she's the boss. We mere men don't get to call the shots."
Dean was horrified. He had never considered that his missus would want her rejected baby back, even to spite him. But, then again, OLD Missus Harvelle WAS a goddamned spiteful woman. He could believe Missus Ellen would rather see Samuel dead than out of her control.
"All the same, Bobby, I'd really like for Dad to know where we are," he pleaded.
Bobby nodded. "See what I can do."
He pocketed Dean's letter, but he doubted he would really send it. He had been in his line of work for a long time, and he had seen danger brought to a refuge's door that way before.
Bobby had learned the hard way to trust no one. Even the USC Mail.
~o~
Back once again in Appalachia, Bela stepped from her black sedan, parked out in front of the Harvelle house. She was admitted by a waiting houseman and guided to the sitting room, where she was joined by the august presence of Missus Harvelle Sr.
"You do know why I sent for you?" asked Ellen Harvelle, sitting down ponderously.
"Er, yes, ma'am," Bela agreed. "I'm told your daughter's spouse has run away... again."
Missus Harvelle snorted. "That good-for-nothing peabrain your agency saddled us with. This time he's not only absconded. He's taken a CHILD with him."
"He's taken a child?" Bela repeated, a little alarmed. Kidnap was a serious charge.
The older woman heaved a put-upon sigh, clearly more irritated than distressed.
"Only a boy," she admitted, sourly.
"Oh," responded Bela, relaxing somewhat. Only a boy. No one important. "Is that all?"
Missus Harvelle rolled her eyes skyward and drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair, waiting for Bela to catch her drift.
"You want them returned?" Bela asked, uncertainly. "Of course. We have operatives who can do that."
Missus Harvelle frowned, smoothing her skirt deliberately for a few seconds.
"No. Not that," she eventually replied. "I want the association... severed. I'd be grateful if you could make it so."
Bela considered the implications of that word 'severed'. Divorce WAS legal in Appalachia, but it was rare and, frankly, scandalous if prompted by the male's misbehaviour. A wealthy family like the Harvelles wouldn't want a blot of that kind on the family name. The only other way to 'sever' a marriage was by the demise of one of the parties. It didn't take much brainwork to decipher what Missus Harvelle was getting at. Someplace at the back of Bela's mind a cash register chimed.
"We have operatives who can do that also," Bela responded, adding, "for a very reasonable fee."
Ellen Harvelle nodded her assent. She was prepared to throw money at the problem to avoid appearing in the society columns. Bela stood to shake hands on the deal.
"Now, ma'am," she said, half turning toward the door. "If someone can show me to his sleeping quarters? I'd like to take a little look."
Bela left the Harvelle residence with no uncertainty about what fate the Harvelles intended for Dean. She considered it unfortunate that their contract should have turned out such a failure. But, as far as she was concerned, it was a financial arrangement, nothing more. It wasn't her business to worry about the personal side. Compassion didn't bring home the bucks.
She glanced at the crumpled flyer she had rescued from under that creaky floorboard in Dean's room. The young man wasn't going to be hard to find this time.
"Sorry, Dean," she murmured to herself as she climbed into her sedan. "Even the pretty ones need to know their place."
~o~
Bela stood on the doorstep of the men's refuge, checking her fingernails. Some five minutes after her authoritative knock, the door opened a crack and Bobby Singer looked out.
"Can I help you, missus?" he inquired politely, but with the faintest hint of sarcasm behind his words.
"You have a young man here. Dean Campbell?" Bela asked, raising an immaculate eyebrow.
Bobby gave the woman a leery look. "And what would you want with him?" he demanded. "...missus."
Bela chose to ignore the older man's less than wholly respectful tone.
"Nothing but good, uncle," she replied smilingly. "I've come straight from his matrimonial home with some EXCELLENT news. Something he will be VERY glad to hear, I'm sure."
"Oh yeah?" responded Bobby, suspiciously.
"May I come in and speak to him?" she asked, pushing forward a little.
Bobby frowned. The men's refuge was strictly male-only territory. No woman was ever allowed to set foot on the premises. Bobby was all too aware that some of his most traumatized charges could be deeply alarmed if they should run into a female in their little sanctuary.
"You can go round to the yard," he allowed. "I'll send him out back. Ifn he's willing to talk to ya, that is."
Bela nodded and Bobby shut the door in her face, disappearing inside. Stepping slowly to the back of the building, Bela entered the walled backyard through its rusty-hinged gate. She sat herself down on an old kitchen chair that the refuge's children had left out in the sun. After a couple minutes, Dean emerged from the back door, drying his hands on a dish towel tied around his waist, and approached her.
"Missus Bela," he addressed her warily, recognizing the woman immediately.
Bela looked up and smiled warmly. "Don't look like that, Dean. I come bearing good news."
Dean didn't look convinced. "What kinda news?" he demanded.
Bela laughed lightly. "You'll be glad to know that the Harvelles have agreed to dissolve your marriage contract, Dean," she explained. "They've decided they don't need you back. You're free to go where you will."
"Free?" Dean repeated uncertainly. "You mean... they're not gonna make trouble?"
"Trouble? No," Bela replied. "You can go your own way from now on. You can even go home to your father, Dean. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
Dean was amazed. Was it all over so easily? "I can go home?" he murmured.
"Yes indeed," confirmed Bela. "If you want, I can take you home right now."
Dean could hardly believe it. This was the best news he could have gotten. Overjoyed, he ran straight back inside to tell Bobby.
"I'm going home, Bobby," he gabbled. "The Harvelles have given up on me. I can go home to Dad, and my little brother Sam. I can see them again."
"Now, now, son," Bobby grumbled. "Tell me slowly. What is this?"
Dean was so excited he could hardly speak coherently. He took a deep breath and tried to explain more clearly.
"This woman, Bela, she's from the marriage agency that hooked me up with Jo Harvelle," he said quickly, words tumbling out in his excitement. "She says the Harvelles have DISSOLVED the marriage. Been FREED from the contract. It's safe to go home. Bobby, I'm gonna go get Samuel and take him see his grandpa."
Bobby narrowed his old eyes. Many years running the refuge had made him somewhat sceptical of the supposed goodness of news brought by women.
"Now wait a minute, boy," he interrupted, anxious to calm Dean down. "Is it a good idea to take the kid? You don't know how things are with your dad. Maybe you should leave the youngster here a while, until you're settled. Then you can send for him."
Dean stopped jumping around and punching the air a moment to consider Bobby's words.
"Yeah, I guess you're right, Bobby," he agreed after a second. "Maybe I SHOULD leave Samuel with you. But only till I've gotten things ready for him back home. Then I'll come get him." He gave Bobby a quick hug. "Samuel'll be fine here. You're like his big old uncle."
The old guy nodded, and Dean hurried off to collect his few things and share a touching goodbye with his cute little boy.
"Now Samuel, Daddy's gonna go see Grandpa. Uncle Bobby'll take care of ya till Daddy gets back. OK?" he told him, hunkered down at the little one's level.
His son beamed at him cheekily. "Dada," he chirped, grabbing his daddy for a hug.
Dean squeezed him tight one last time, dropping a kiss on the top of his head, then he affectionately ruffled the mite's sandy hair. Samuel was so much like his dad.
"Now you be a good boy, huh? Mind what Uncle Bobby says. Remember, Daddy loves ya."
It hurt Dean to leave his Samuel behind, even for a short time. It reminded him so much of the day he left Lawren and his dad and brother, never to see them again. Well, until that day. Finally, they were all going to be reunited. He was going to see his dad and his brother Sam again.
Dean fingered the amulet under his shirt. Sam was going to be so thrilled that he still had it. He would give it back to him the moment they met up again.
Whenever that might be.
TBC
A/N: Will Dean get to see Lawren and Sam again? What's Bela planning? More soon.