Chapter Six: The Ties That Bind
"Where are you taking me?" Mouse asked the police officers who were driving him away from the cabin and his uncle.
The twelve-year old had no idea what was going to happen to him now that Josh had been arrested. As far as he knew, he had no other family.
"We're going to Child Protective Services," the cop with the handlebar moustache told him, "They'll give you a place to stay for the night."
The cruiser headed into the town of Whitefish but Mouse barely noticed. All he could think about was Josh, arrested for crimes he most certainly had not committed. Why was Josh being accused of kidnapping and unlawful confinement? And who had told the police?
W
The boy startled when the car stopped twenty minutes later in front of a two-story redbrick building that's only decoration was a white sign with blue text reading 'CHILD PROTECTIVE SERVICES, WHITEFISH'.
The cop without the handlebar moustache opened Mouse's door and uncuffed the boy's hands. Mouse stepped out and the two cops led him into the building.
The first area they entered looked like the waiting room of a dentist or doctor's office, with a receptionist's desk, chairs against the walls and generic prints of flowers on walls painted a mint green.
Mouse sat down in one of the plastic chairs as the cops talked to the woman behind the desk for what seemed like forever before they too took seats on either side of the boy to wait for whatever was going to happen next.
The sound of footsteps drew the twelve-year old's attention and a woman stepped out of the hallway beside the reception desk. She was wearing a dark blue pantsuit and low black heels. She smiled as she approached Mouse and the police officers.
Kneeling down so as to be eye-level with the boy, she introduced herself.
"Hello," she said in a soft voice, "My name is Chandra Patel but you can just call me Chandra."
Mouse didn't reply.
"I'm going to find you a family to stay with tonight, okay?" Chandra asked and held out a hand to the boy.
After a moment's hesitation, Mouse took her hand, surprised how soft and warm it was.
The boy followed her down the hallway and past offices. At the end of the hall was a bank of elevators. Chandra pressed the button to call one and waited, still holding Mouse's hand.
"Why did my uncle get arrested? He didn't do anything wrong," Mouse asked the woman.
Chandra peered down at the boy with dark brown eyes, "I'm sorry I don't know."
The elevator doors opened and woman and boy stepped into the lift.
"I don't want to go to some new family," Mouse told her, "I want to stay with Josh."
"It will just be for one night," Chandra told him as the elevator took them to the second floor of the building.
The elevator stopped and its doors opened to reveal a hallway that was much more child-friendly than the waiting area on the first floor.
The hallway was covered in a carpet of red, yellow and blue; the walls were lavender with child's drawings framed on them.
Mouse followed Chandra down the hallway and peered into a large room with an immense glass window showing an interior specifically designed with children in mind. The floor was durable hard wood with area rugs in bright colours strewn about; there were child-sized tables, chairs, and couches. A television set was playing cartoons in the corner and there were multiple shelves of books and boards games and toys.
There were also children inside, playing, or colouring or watching TV, seeming not to notice Chandra or Mouse standing outside.
The woman opened the glass door and led the boy into the room.
"You're welcome to stay here and play until I can find a family for you to stay with, okay?" Chandra asked but the boy didn't reply.
"I will be back later," she told him and left the room.
Almost instantly another adult, a woman with busy orange hair and large freckles covering every inch of exposed skin, approached the boy.
"Hi there," she greeted in a loud voice, "I'm Taylor. What's your name?"
Mouse didn't say anything.
"What would you like to do?" Taylor asked, "We have TV or books?"
Mouse shook his head.
"Or you could play a board game with another child?"
Again Mouse refused.
"Do you want to draw or paint?"
The twelve-year old didn't answer but walked away from the woman without speaking, ignoring everything around him and sitting down on a pink beanbag chair in a corner of the room.
SPN
Josh sat silently in his holding cell, thinking about Mouse.
It didn't take a genius to figure out who had called the Whitefish PD; John must have known they were heading to Rufus' cabin.
That meant Bobby or Rufus had told John about Mouse- er, Sam- still being alive. The thought that either one of those men could betray him made Josh's blood boil. He had trusted them! For years he had trusted him with the secret that John's youngest son was still alive and they had gone and stabbed him in the back!
He didn't really care about being in jail- no, he could handle that- but what he couldn't deal with was being separated from the boy he had raised as his own for eleven years.
With no relatives of his own, Josh wondered where Mouse was going to end up. Was he here at the police station or with CPS for the night? Or, god forbid, had John stepped up yet to claim the boy as his own by now?
Josh shuddered at that last thought. If John had Mouse, the boy didn't stand a chance, he may be dead already.
"Bobby, you bastard," Josh growled, "How could you? He's just a little boy."
The hunter leaned his head back against the cinderblock wall; it was going to be a long night.
SPN
Mouse looked up when he saw feet appear in his field of vision.
He had not moved from his spot on the beanbag chair for what felt like hours, legs drawn up and his cheek resting against one knee.
He ignored the other children and the adults, and they pretty much ignored him. Not that he cared, he didn't want to play or watch TV or draw a picture anyway.
"Luke," Chandra's voice said, "This is Peter and Kelly, they are going to give you a place to stay tonight."
Mouse looked up and stared into the foster parents' faces. They smiled at him but he didn't smile back.
The woman, though clearly middle-aged, had tanned skin, blonde hair, brown eyes but a kind face, crouched down in front of him.
"Hi Luke," she said, "It's nice to meet you."
"Mouse," Mouse replied.
"What's that?" Kelly asked, still smiling.
"I like Mouse," he told her, "Not Luke. No one calls me Luke."
"Okay, Mouse, if that's what you want," Peter said in a deep, gregarious voice.
"They are nice people, Luke," Chandra told the boy, "They've been working with us for many years."
"I don't want to go with them," Mouse told her, "I want to go be with Josh."
Peter and Kelly looked to Chandra.
"It will only be for one night," Chandra reminded him but Mouse wasn't stupid. If Josh had been arrested, he probably wasn't going to be let out of jail anytime soon. Mouse knew about bail and those kinds of things so he didn't think he'd just be living with Peter and Kelly for one night.
"C'mon Sport," Peter encouraged, "We don't bite."
The foster parents laughed as though it was some kind of joke but Mouse just sighed and stood, not wanting to get in trouble.
Kelly stepped back and smiled at him.
Mouse followed the adults as they left the room- Taylor called a 'goodbye' to him but he ignored her- and stepped out into the hall.
"Do you like pizza, Sport?" Pete asked Mouse and the boy shrugged.
"I guess," the twelve-year old answered.
"We can order a pizza for dinner," Pete told him, "How does that sound?"
"Fine," Mouse muttered.
Chandra followed them all the way down the hall and into the elevator. She smiled down at the boy but he turned away from her happy expression.
Why was all this happening? He hadn't done anything wrong and he didn't think Josh had either. Was he ever going to see his uncle again? Just the thought of never seeing the hunter again brought tears to Mouse's eyes and he used the back of his hand to wipe his eyes, hoping none of the adults saw.
The elevator doors opened and they stepped out.
"It was nice meeting you, Luke- er, Mouse," Chandra said, pausing as though she expected the boy to say that he thought it was nice to meet her too.
Although not generally rude- Josh had taught him better than that- Mouse didn't think it was nice to have met Chandra, considering the circumstances.
"We'd better get going," Kelly interrupted and took Mouse by the hand.
The twelve-year old pulled his hand from the woman's but said nothing.
He followed the two foster parents as they walked out of the building and to their car that was parked out front.
Mouse climbed into the back seat as Peter settled behind the wheel and Kelly rode shotgun.
"Don't forget your seat belt," Kelly told him from over her shoulder.
The drive was silent for the most part, punctuated by Kelly and Peter asking Mouse generic questions:
"What did he like on his pizza?"
He liked anchovies and mushrooms.
"Did he like soda?"
No, he didn't really drink soda.
"What TV shows did he like to watch?"
His uncle didn't have a television.
"Did he have a favourite movie?"
He liked the one he'd just gone to see with Josh a couple of days ago.
"What were his favourite subjects in school?"
He liked English and History.
"Where did he go to school?"
His uncle home-schooled him.
And on and on and on…
"Here we are!" Kelly announced cheerily as they pulled into the driveway of a beige-sandstone bungalow with a dark brown roof and matching shutters on the widows. Flourishing flower gardens added a splash of colour to the property.
Peter and Kelly got out of the car first and then Mouse, the boy eyeing the house somewhat skeptically.
Mouse followed the two adults as they walked up the driveway towards the cement porch of the house where two wicker chairs and a small table sat. A basketball net, worn and tattered by the elements, though still functional, hung above the garage doors.
"Do you have kids?" the twelve-year old finally asked a question of his own.
"We have a son," Peter answered, "And a daughter."
"Tiffany is away at college; her first year," Kelly continued, "But Austin is here."
Peter opened the front door and stepped inside, Mouse following and Kelly bringing up the rear.
"Hey Austin, we're back!" Peter called and Mouse heard the blare of music suddenly sound from deeper into the house before it was quieted and footsteps approached.
The boy was clearly a few years older than Mouse- in high school- and tall. He seemed to tower over the twelve-year old. He had pale blond hair and equally pale blue eyes. Wearing a basketball jersey and a pair of old jeans, he appeared casual but the younger boy could sense a tension in him.
"Hey," Austin greeted casually.
"Mouse is going to stay with us tonight," Kelly told him.
Austin smirked, "Mouse? That's your name?"
"Be nice," Peter cautioned and Kelly nodded, laying a hand on the twelve-year old's shoulder.
"It's just for tonight," Kelly repeated.
"Whatever," Austin sighed, "Just as long as he doesn't bother me."
With that, the teen turned and headed back into the rear of the house.
"He's really a nice boy," Kelly told Mouse, "It just takes him time to warm up to people."
Mouse didn't say anything. He didn't think Austin was going to be doing any 'warming up'; the older boy clearly did not like him.
"Why don't you go into the living room and watch some TV while we wait for the pizza to arrive?" Kelly offered and the boy hesitated.
"It's this way," Peter said and brought him to the living room.
Tentatively, Mouse sat down on the couch and stared around the room. Photographs of Austin holding various trophies and a girl who was most likely Tiffany, adorned the walls smiling down at the twelve-year old.
Mouse tore his gaze away from the pictures and shuddered. It seemed as though the pale blue eyes of Austin and his sister- who also had the same platinum hair as her brother, as well- were looking at him and disapproving of his intrusion into their home.
Peter and Kelly, clearly well off, had a big screen TV, a state-of-the art stereo system and what looked like a brand new VHS player all sitting on a wooden television stand. On either side of the stand was a collection of CDs on the left and videocassettes on the right.
Searching for the television remote, Mouse frowned when he peered into the basket sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch and sat five different remotes.
Sighing, the boy reached down to the low shelf attached to the bottom of the coffee table and picked up a magazine, flipping through the pages without really reading them.
SPN
John Winchester parked the Impala down the street from Peter and Kelly's house, making sure he had a clear view of the front lawn.
Dean, sitting beside him in the passenger's seat, frowned. He'd been in a mood ever since picking his father up from Bobby's house.
"What are we doing here, Dad?" the teen asked, eyeing the street ahead of him warily.
"The monster I was telling you about," John said, "Is in that house."
He pointed to a beige bungalow with a dark brown roof and basketball net above the garage door.
Dean leaned forward in order to get a better view of the dwelling.
"Why? Is it going to attack the people inside?"
John shook his head, "I don't think so. They probably don't even know there's a monster with them."
"Than why are we sitting here?" Dean asked. He was very confused about this whole thing and he hated it. He didn't like when his father chose to only hand him information in bits and pieces.
"I need to think," the older hunter replied.
Sighing, the sixteen-year old reached out to turn on the radio when his father smacked his hand away.
Eyeing John, Dean crossed his arms and stared out of the side window, irritated about his father's evasiveness.
SPN
"Pizza's here!" Mouse heard Pete shout from the front of the house and put the magazine he had been flipping through back onto the shelf beneath the coffee table.
As Mouse left the living room and made his way slowly towards the kitchen, Austin, barreling down the hallway from his bedroom waylaid the boy.
"Get out of my way!" the older teenager snapped, shoving the twelve-year old into the wall.
Not so much hurt as stunned, Mouse remained where he was for a long moment, his back pressed against the wall, breathing heavily.
"Mouse?" Kelly's voice called from the direction of the kitchen.
"Mouse? The pizza's here."
The boy didn't move.
"There you are!" Kelly exclaimed as she approached him, "Didn't you hear Pete calling?"
Mouse swallowed and shook his head.
Kelly frowned, her thin eyebrows drawn together in confusion.
"I must have had the TV on too loud," Mouse told her quickly.
His answer seemed to placate the woman and she smiled at him.
"Peter got you a pizza all to yourself, with anchovies and mushrooms," she told him and Mouse stared at her, surprised to be treated to a pizza all his own. Whenever his uncle ordered pizza, he usually just got an extra large, half his preferred toppings and half Mouse's.
The twelve-year old followed Kelly out into the kitchen, where her husband and son were already sitting at the table.
Peter looked up as Mouse took the seat to his right, not willing to sit beside Austin.
"We got you a bottle of Gatorade," he told the boy as his wife took a seat beside their son.
"We know you says you didn't like soda," Kelly added, taking a slice of vegetarian pizza as she did.
"Thanks," Mouse muttered, picking up the bottle of neon yellow lemon/lime flavoured sports drink.
"Have some pizza," Kelly said, "We bought you your own."
"Okay," the boy replied and took a piece of mushroom and anchovy pizza.
Although he wasn't really hungry, Mouse took a small bite, chewing slowly. He noticed that both Pete and Kelly were staring at him with expectant expressions.
"Oh…um," swallowing the pizza, the boy remembered his thanked the couple for the food.
Kelly and Pete continued to eat their pizza as though nothing had happened, talking with their son about his day.
Mouse sat his piece of pizza down on his plate. He was starting to feel sick to his stomach.
"Mouse, are you all right? You're not eating?" Kelly asked and the twelve-year old shook his head, "I'm not really feeling good. Sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry about," she simpered, "If you're not feeling good you're not feeling good."
"Why don't you head upstairs and call it an early night?" Peter suggested.
Before Mouse could speak, Kelly stood, "I'll show you where you'll sleep."
The boy followed Kelly out of the kitchen and down the hallway. Mouse was surprised when the woman turned the light on in a room to the right to reveal what was clearly Austin's bedroom. One side of the room was coated in posters of athletes, baseball and basketball players, soccer players and the teen's numerous trophies and medals. The far side of the room was untouched, with a single bed pushed up against a clean, white wall.
"This is your bed," Kelly stepped over a soiled basketball shirt to get to the far side of the room and turn down the blankets on the mattress.
"Okay," Mouse replied. He wasn't sure how he felt about sharing a room with Austin. Though he was used to living in close quarters with another person- the trailer he and his uncle lived in wasn't even as big as this bedroom- he knew the teenager didn't like him and probably wouldn't welcome him into his bedroom under normal circumstances.
"The bathroom is just down the hall on the same side and our room is on the left if you need anything," Kelly told him before making her way to the doorway and pausing, "Goodnight."
Mouse bade her a good night and watched as she slipped away from the doorframe and back down the hall. For a moment the boy remained where he was before crossing to the light switch, pushing it into the off position with his thumb and stepping carefully over Austin's clothes to the guest bed. Lying down on his back, the twelve-year old stared up at the ceiling, missing his uncle and listening to the sounds of conversation and laughter coming from the kitchen through the open doorway.
W
Mouse startled awake at the sound of the bedroom door closing with a loud snick sound. For a moment he blinked in the darkness, confused and disoriented, before he felt a sudden weight pressing down heavily on top of him and a warm, slightly moist hand clamped down on his mouth.
"Listen up, kid," Austin's voice hissed in his ear, the teen's breath hot on the side of his face, "Just because you're staying in my room doesn't mean we're friends. The only reason you're in here is because there's no other place for a bed in the house, get it?"
Mouse nodded his head as much as he could with Austin's hand plastered across his face.
"If you do anything to bug me," the teen continued, "Whimper or cry or even breathe too loudly, I will kill you."
The boy's eyes widened at the threat, not sure Austin was being serious and unable to believe he wasn't.
"Do you understand?" the teen pressed down with his hand, shoving the back of Mouse's head against the pillow.
Again, the boy nodded.
"Good," Austin growled and released his hold on the boy.
Mouse didn't move until he heard the teen move to the far side of the room. He was sure that if Austin really wante to hurt him, he'd be able to defend himself… but he knew that wouldn't go over well with Peter and Kelly and maybe get him into big trouble. Rolling over onto his side, he watched as Austin sat down at the desk beside his bed, turned on his computer, put on headphones and proceeded to begin playing a rather violent game.
The boy stared at the teenager's back, the light from the computer screen illuminating the room slightly as Austin shot enemy soldiers as calmly as if he were doing his chores.
Mouse couldn't help but shudder to himself and hoped that he wouldn't have to stay with this family for longer than the woman at the CPS building said he would.
W
Mouse felt as though he'd just closed his eyes when he was awoken by the sound of his roommate moving around the bedroom.
Sliding his eyes open, the twelve-year old watched as Austin stepped over the piles of clothing scattered across the floor before choosing a yellow basketball jersey with the name of a famous player printed in purple block letters across the back and a pair of jean shorts.
The teenager said nothing as he dressed and Mouse wasn't sure Austin knew he was awake. Once the older boy had left the room, leaving the door ajar, Mouse sat up and rubbed his hands with his eyes.
He had no day what lay for him in the day ahead. Kelly and Pete had told him he was only going to be staying with them for one night and he had no clue where he was going to end up by the evening.
Deciding that he should get up and see what the family was doing. Standing up and crossing the bedroom- careful not to step on Austin's clothes- Mouse ran his finger through his longish hair to get rid of the knots and went into the hallway.
At first he thought no one was awake but Austin and himself but then the dark, nutty scent of coffee wafted towards him and Mouse knew Peter and Kelly must be up.
Walking quietly into the kitchen, the twelve-year old did indeed find Kelly and Peter awake, reading newspapers, looking through flyers and drinking coffee.
"Where's Austin?" Mouse asked, not seeing the teen in the room.
"He's just outside in the driveway practicing his basketball skills," Kelly told the boy without looking up from her flyers.
"Okay," the boy muttered and sat down at the table with the couple.
The minutes ticked by, Mouse sitting quietly, watching Peter and Kelly reading and talking to one another.
The twelve-year old wasn't sure if he should say anything to the couple but he was rescued when Peter stood up and walked out of the kitchen and to the front door to call Austin in for breakfast.
Kelly put her flyers away and stood as well.
"What would you like for breakfast?" she asked Mouse.
"Do you have cereal?" he asked and the woman nodded, "We have granola."
"Okay," Mouse said and Kelly brought bowls, the box of cereal, milk and spoons.
Austin barged into the kitchen, sweating and breathing heavily as though he'd just run a marathon.
He sat down in his father's vacated seat, grabbed the box of cereal and poured a heaping pile of granola into his bowl.
Peter took a seat beside Mouse and poured himself a bowl of granola before passing the box of cereal to his wife. Mouse was last to get the cereal and when he poured the granola into his bowl, he ended up with the small crumbly, dusty bits at the bottom of the box.
Not one to complain, the boy added milk into his cereal and ate it quietly.
Just as the boy had had only three bites of cereal, the doorbell rang and Peter stood, walking out of the kitchen.
"They must be here already," Kelly said out loud, indicating someone from Child Protective Services to take Mouse to another foster family.
Mouse set his spoon in his bowl as Peter returned, "They're waiting for you."
The boy stood up and walked towards the front door. He didn't hurry; he didn't want to end up with another group of strangers, but knew he didn't have any choice.
Looking up at the figure standing in the doorway, however, Mouse began running forward in excitement.
"Josh!"
The boy's uncle smiled and reached out, catching Mouse as he wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug.
"Why are you here? How are you here?" the boy asked, catching sight of a police officer standing at the end of the driveway.
"They didn't have enough evidence to keep me," the hunter told the little boy, unable to keep from grinning.
"So we can go back home?" Mouse asked.
"Yeah, kiddo, we can go back home," the hunter replied, his smile still on his face but now not as wide as before.
"C'mon, Officer Higgins is going to take us back to the cabin," Josh told him and Mouse followed his uncle to the police cruiser.
The officer opened the rear door for hunter and the boy and Mouse climbed into the vehicle, Josh sliding in after him.
The boy smiled, exceptionally happy and relieved. He had thought he wouldn't see his uncle again and now Josh was saying the police couldn't keep him. Of course they couldn't find evidence against Josh; he hadn't done anything wrong.
"Were those people nice to you?" the hunter asked and Mouse nodded.
"Oh good," Josh said, "I was worried about that."
They didn't talk much more while they were driven to the cabin. Mouse didn't want to talk about Austin and Josh didn't want to talk about his night in jail. The silence wasn't awkward, both boy and man were happy and relieved to be reunited and that was all that they needed at the moment.
SPN
"Thanks," Josh muttered to Officer Higgins as the policeman opened the door of his car to let them out, the cabin sitting before them in welcoming golden light.
The officer nodded, closing the door when both his passengers were out and sat down behind the wheel, backing up in the long, narrow driveway.
"C'mon Mouse," Josh said, turning away from the police car, reaching out to place a hand on the boy's shoulder, "Let's get our stuff and head out."
The twelve-year old followed obediently as the hunter walked up the porch steps and unlocked the door. Before the door was fully open, Mouse slipped inside and ran to his bedroom to gather his belongings.
As Josh grabbed his duffel bag and waited for the boy to get his own, his thoughts turned to what would happen in the next few hours. Even though he had been released from police custody, he knew that he was still on someone else's radar. John Winchester was likely aware that he'd collected Mouse and returned to the cabin. Josh knew that John was not going to give up and leave them alone, that he'd follow them until he caught up. Deciding that he didn't want to be on the run anymore- that was no life for Mouse- the hunter made up his mind to return to Ohio, to return home and meet John Winchester on his own terms.
"I got my stuff," Mouse said as he stepped into the cabin's living room, "Are we really going home?"
Josh smiled and nodded, "Yeah, kiddo, we're going to go home."
Mouse grinned and ran out the door.
The hunter followed and opened the door to his pickup truck, dumping the luggage into the back before climbing into the driver's seat while the boy took the passenger's.
SPN
Since leaving the cabin, Mouse hadn't spoken much so Josh turned on the radio to cut through the silence. Now the boy fidgeted uncomfortably on his seat. A thought had been pestering him for a few hours.
"Um… Josh?" the boy began, wondering how to begin.
The hunter turned off the radio and glanced at the boy quickly before returning his attention to the road.
"Yeah?"
"I was just thinking," Mouse continued, "Those police officers arrested you for kidnapping and well… who did they think you kidnapped?"
For a moment Josh said nothing, he simply focused on driving before he turned to the child, "Don't worry about it, Mouse."
Now, just telling Mouse not to worry about something may have worked when he was younger and wouldn't understand the answer to his question anyway, but he was twelve-years old! Not a baby, and besides, what if someone else accused Josh of kidnapping again? This didn't just affect Josh; it affected his nephew as well.
"No," Mouse said, "I want to know who they thought you'd kidnapped."
"Mouse-" Josh began but the boy interrupted.
"No! Tell me!"
"Fine," the hunter pulled the truck onto the gravel shoulder of the road and put on his hazards. He turned in his seat to face the boy.
"I'll tell you," Josh told him, "But you have to promise to listen to the whole story and not interrupt me, okay?"
Mouse turned to face his uncle, crossing his legs underneath him, "I promise."
Josh didn't speak for a long moment. Instead he peered out the windshield. It was late in the afternoon and he knew they would have to stop for the night soon. He just hoped that telling Mouse the truth wouldn't be a mistake. He knew that one day he may have to tell the boy the truth about his origins but he had hoped that it wouldn't be this day.
Sighing heavily, the hunter ran a hand through his hair before peering at the child with a grim look on his face. He could tell by the way Mouse mirrored his expression and fidgeted that he was anxious.
"You've heard of John Winchester, right?" Josh asked and the twelve-year old nodded.
Of course he had heard of John Winchester, he was nearly a legend in the hunting community. And despite the fact that Josh had never hunted with him again after the man asked him to commit infanticide, he was sure he'd spoken the name in passing or that Mouse had heard of the man from Bobby Singer or Rufus Turner or any other partner Josh had had in the past.
The boy nodded but said nothing, keeping true to his word and not interrupting the story.
"I don't know how to say this… so I'm just going to say it," Josh gritted his teeth, struggling with the decision to tell Mouse who he really was.
"He's your father," the hunter told him and waited for the boy to react.
The twelve-year old frowned, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion and Josh could almost see the questions blossoming in the child's mind:
Why had Josh not told him this before?
Why was he not with his father?
Did John know where he was?
"Wha-" Mouse began but Josh held up a hand, "You said you wouldn't interrupt. I'll tell you what happened."
The boy bit his lip and nodded, his look of confusion breaking Josh's heart.
"When you were just a baby," the hunter began, "Not even a year old yet, there was a fire in your nursery. No one knows exactly how it started- the official report said it was faulty electrical wiring- but the only thing that matters is that your mother was killed in that fire and something… something snapped in John, your father, that night, or so I imagine. Accidents like that weren't supposed to happen. Not to someone you knew, especially not to you or your family. I guess John couldn't cope with what had happened and from what I've heard, he changed that night."
Mouse stared at Josh, his mouth slightly open in shock.
"Your father took you and your brother to live with a man he worked with for a while," Josh continued, offering the common knowledge most hunters knew of John Winchester's story, "But he didn't stay long. After a few months he moved away, renting motel rooms for you and your brother and him to stay in."
"I have a brother…" the boy whispered but did so quietly enough that it didn't really disrupt the story.
"I got a call from John one day," Josh started up again, his voice thick, "And he told me he needed help killing a monster."
Mouse's expression was more neutral now. He was familiar with Josh taking calls from other hunters who needed help with things that went bump in the night.
"I agreed," Josh told him, "Reluctantly."
"So I drove to Bannock," the hunter continued, "And went into the convenience store where John was. Then, when no one was looking, I kidnapped his youngest son."
The look of bewilderment had returned to Mouse's face and the boy frowned.
"John had called me to help get rid of a 'monster'," Josh felt tears well up in his eyes at the memory, "But the monster he wanted me to kill was just a little boy, a baby, really."
"He told me that the baby had started the fire and killed his wife," Josh said, his voice cracking, "That the child was evil."
"We had planned that I would abduct the baby, kill him and hide his body so no one would ever find it," Josh struggled to hold himself together, "But I couldn't murder a child. So I kept the baby and raised him as my own."
Mouse's eyes were now as wide as saucers as realization dawned on him.
"Me? That was me?"
Josh nodded and wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand, "I couldn't go through with what John wanted. So I made up a story, telling everyone you were my nephew and that your folks had died in a car accident."
"But… the pictures…" Mouse stammered.
"They're photos of my wife and my son before I became a hunter, when I was younger," Josh explained.
"And my name?" Mouse asked, his breathing becoming quick, "Is Luke even my real name?"
Josh shook his head; "I couldn't risk calling you your name so I chose Luke, after my boy."
"Why… why did John think I was a monster? I was just a baby! I'm not a monster!" Mouse exclaimed.
"I know! I know," Josh agreed, "I told you, something snapped in him. I don't know what. I guess he needed someone to blame."
"He tried to kill me!" Mouse almost shouted.
You don't know the half of it, Josh thought.
"You lied to me!" the twelve-year old snapped, "Why didn't you tell me the truth?"
"I wanted to wait until you were older," Josh explained, "I didn't think you would understand."
The boy scowled, clearly upset that the hunter didn't think he was old enough to learn the truth about his past, but nodded, calming down and asked another question.
"Is that… Did John call the police to the cabin?" Mouse asked, fidgeting once again.
Josh nodded.
"How did he find out?"
"I was careful," the hunter muttered, "No one knew the truth except for Bobby and Rufus. I guess one or both of them let the beans spill and John found out."
"What does John want now?"
Josh looked into Mouse's eyes, the gravity of the situation clear on his face.
"He wants to kill you."
SPN
Mouse sat silently in the passenger's seat as Josh drove, thoughts racing through his mind as the boy worked to make sense of what the hunter had just told him.
It seemed unbelievable, incomprehensible; that the man he'd known for as long as he could remember had no blood ties to him at all and had actually only ended up with him because he couldn't kill a baby. Would another hunter have been so softhearted? Perhaps it was best not to dwell on that train of thought.
From the corner of his eye, Mouse peered at Josh and felt himself loving the man even more, knowing what he'd done- what he'd risked- in taking him in and raising him as his own.
Blood may be thicker than water, but Mouse's own father had tried to have him killed as a baby for something he couldn't possibly have done.
No, John Winchester was not his father. Josh, who had fed, clothed, taught and protected him for eleven and a half years was his real family.
Smiling to himself, Mouse closed his eyes and felt asleep, secure in the fact that Josh was with him and wouldn't let anything bad happen.
SPN
The sun was just a red sliver on the horizon as Josh pulled his truck into the gas station. They were the only customers, the only other cars in the lot belonged to those of the employees.
Hours had gone by since they'd left Rufus' cabin in Whitefish and they still had a long way to go before they arrived home.
A sense of urgency had overcome Josh and he had forgone eating lunch and dinner in diners to use the drive-through windows of fast-food joints. Not that Mouse complained much. The kid liked the treat of having chicken nuggets, fries and soda for dinner instead of something healthy.
Now that the sun had almost disappeared though, Josh knew he couldn't drive all night and would need to stop to get a few hours of shuteye before continuing on.
"Damn it," the hunter growled to himself as he turned the pickup's engine off and opened his door.
Mouse, who had been asleep in the seat beside him, stirred and blinked blearily.
"Wher'we?" he muttered, reaching up to rub his eyes.
"Just at a gas station," Josh told him, "Are you hungry? Do you want a snack?"
"Yeah!" Mouse exclaimed eagerly and opened his door, jumping out of the truck and walking over to Josh's side.
"We'll stop at the next town we see and get a motel room for the night," the hunter said as he opened the lid on the gas tank and put the end of the nozzle inside, watching the numbers increase on the yellow screen of the pump idly.
"Okay," the twelve-year old replied, looking around and stepping from foot to foot.
"Hopefully we'll get home tomorrow night," Josh told him.
"Then what do we-" Mouse began to ask but stopped when a large black car screeched into the parking lot, coming to a halt right alongside Josh's pickup truck.
"Mouse-" the hunter began but he was interrupted as the driver's side door of the Chevy Impala flew open and a large figure rushed them.
The boy, startled and scared, backed up against the gas pump, frozen with terror as the stranger pulled out a gun and shot Josh in the abdomen twice while still advancing towards them.
The injured hunter released his hold on the gas hose and the nozzle slid out of the gas tank of his pickup, hitting the concrete and spraying gasoline everywhere.
"JOSH!" Mouse screamed as the hunter collapsed, his head striking the gas pump as he went down.
The boy dropped to his knees beside the injured man and tried to place his hands over the bullet wounds.
"Run," Josh whispered, his face pale and his eyes glassy, "Run."
"No!" Mouse shook his head and then cried out as a strong, calloused hand grabbed him by the back of the neck and drew him upwards.
"Let me go!" the boy cried, striking wildly at the large, bearish figure hold him.
The lights of the gas station had yet to turn on in the gathering gloom and the figure was only a dark silhouette to the boy's frightened eyes.
"Josh!" Mouse called, letting out a yelp of pain as the man slammed his back against the door of the pickup truck.
Fear and adrenaline raced through the child's veins and his wide eyes took in the man holding him trapped. John Winchester was tall and broad-shouldered, barrel-chested. He was wearing blue jeans, military-style boots, a dark blue plaid shirt and dark coat hanging open. The lower half of his face was covered in a black beard flecked with grey, his dark hair hanging in his face.
The hunter's dark eyes smoldered with a hate unlike anything Mouse had ever seen. Although the boy had never encountered a crazy person before, the look in the man's eyes told him that John Winchester was indeed crazy.
Holding the twelve-year old still with one strong hand on the back of his neck, John raised the gun in his other hand to press it hard against the base of Mouse's throat.
"Now I can finish what I started all those years ago," the man snarled and Mouse closed his eyes, terrified, and waited for the killing shot.
It didn't come.
The sound of a car door slamming shut sounded in the nearly empty parking lot and a second voice spoke up.
"Let him go, Dad, or I'll shoot you."
For a moment Mouse continued to keep his eyes shut, tears welling up beneath the closed lids, but then the muzzle of the gun digging into his throat disappeared.
"Now, drop him," the voice spoke again, cracking.
John Winchester did exactly as his eldest son ordered and abruptly released his hold on Mouse, the boy falling to the concrete beside the truck in a shivering heap.
"You don't know what you're doing," the father snarled, still facing the pickup truck, Dean's gun pressed tight to his back.
"Oh yes I do," Dean commented, "Saving a kid."
"You'll regret this," John warned him and turned suddenly.
Dean, pulled his hand away as fast as a snake striking, certain his father was going for the gun but instead John shoved him away and took of sprinting across the parking lot and into the wooded area behind the gas station, the sound of approaching sirens egging him on.
"Josh," Mouse cried, crawling on hands and knees towards the injured hunter, ignoring the large puddle of gasoline.
Reaching his uncle, the boy pressed both hands down onto the bullet wounds, begging the man not to die.
Dean Winchester shoved his gun into the waistband of his jeans and knelt beside Josh.
"He'll be okay," he told the boy, "The police are coming."
Mouse barely heard the older boy. The tears that had been welling up while John Winchester had threatened him were now overflowing and he was crying in earnest, frightened Josh was going to die.
"Please, Josh," he begged, "Please don't leave me. Stay. Stay with me."
SPN
Dean Winchester peered down sadly at the little boy crouched over the hunter's body before turning to the police cars just pulling into the parking lot.
As two officers ran towards Mouse and Josh, a third one approached Dean.
"What happened here?"
"They were getting gas, I guess," he told the officer, "And I saw this guy driving that car pull in beside them. The driver pulled a gun out and I said he wanted money. The man on the ground didn't want to give him anything so he got shot."
The policeman listened to Dean's fabricated story, having no reason to doubt him.
"The guy was gonna shoot the kid but I saw him and told him to leave because the employees had called the police," Dean explained.
"And he left, just like that?" the policeman asked, somewhat skeptically.
Dean nodded, "He was just a coward. He ran into the trees over there."
The hunter pointed to the wooded area behind the gas station.
The police officer nodded and spoke into the radio resting on his shoulder, confirming that an ambulance was on its way and requesting backup so they could do a search of the woods for the man.
"And who are you?" the office asked Dean.
"Just a Good Samaritan," the sixteen-year old told him and smiled.
W
Dean waited out of the way as an ambulance arrived and Josh was loaded into the back, Mouse climbing into the vehicle with him, unwilling to leave the hunter's side.
Once Josh and Mouse were on their way to the hospital and the police no longer needed to question him- he was sure that the guys in the gas station's little store hadn't seen him exit the Impala after John- he started walking, planning on stealing a car and getting himself to the hospital as soon as he was far enough away from the local law enforcement.
SPN
Mouse looked up as someone sat down in the seat beside him and was surprised to see the teenager who had saved him from John.
Josh had been in surgery for hours- at least that's how it felt to Mouse- and the boy hadn't moved from his spot in the waiting room since, even refusing to be looked at by a nurse until he knew the hunter was all right.
He received strange looks from the other people in the waiting room, no doubt because of his red-rimmed eyes, puffy face and the strong scent of gasoline wafting off his clothes.
"How're you holding up?" the teen asked and Mouse shrugged one shoulder before looking up at him, his eyes widening.
"You… You're…" Mouse stammered.
"Just a Good Samaritan," the older boy gave a charming smile that made his green eyes crinkle.
"…My brother," the child finished, sounding shocked and awed.
The teen frowned, "Yeah, I guess I am."
Then he smiled again, "Dean Winchester."
The boy held out his hand and Mouse took it, shaking.
"Luke," the twelve-year old replied, "But everyone calls me Mouse."
Dean smiled but there was sadness in his smile.
Releasing the teen's hand, Mouse swallowed, wincing as it hurt his throat and asked a question that he was a bit afraid of asking.
"Why did you save me?"
A line appeared between Dean's eyebrows for a moment before he answered, "Because I couldn't let my Dad kill you."
Mouse looked at the floor, "So, you don't think I'm a monster too?"
Dean frowned though the younger boy couldn't see it, "No way! You're just a regular kid. My Dad… Our Dad… I guess he unhinged a bit after Mom died and… well… he needed someone to blame for her death, I guess. Hey, if the fire had started in my room, we'd probably have our places reversed."
Mouse didn't reply. He scuffed his sneakers against the tile floor.
"Did you think I was dead?"
He heard Dean let out a long breath, "Yeah, I did. After you vanished from that convenience store and no one could find you, everyone gave up and said you were dead. That you must be dead. And I believed it. I was just a kid though, and didn't have any reason to doubt Dad when he told me you weren't coming back."
Mouse heard Dean's voice crack as he spoke and lifted his head.
"Josh told me he was my uncle," he told the teen, "That my Mom and Dad had died in a car accident."
"I believed Josh too," Mouse concluded.
Both boys lapsed into silence again. After a short time, Mouse spoke up again.
"Are you going to leave?"
"What do you mean?" Dean asked, confusion tingeing his voice.
"After Josh is out of surgery," Mouse explained, "And you know that we'll be all right. Are you going to go away?"
Dean sighed and ran a hand through his short-cropped hair.
"I don't know," he answered, "I'm not going back to Dad, if that's what you mean."
Mouse bit his lip, "Maybe you could stay with us."
Dean looked at him, "I don't know…"
"Please, you're… you're my big brother," the twelve-year old begged, "You have to!"
Mouse peered pleadingly at Dean and the older boy chuckled.
"Damn," he said, "You don't know how much I've missed those 'puppy-dog eyes' of yours."
"So you'll stay with us, Dean?" Mouse asked, trying out his big brother's name for himself and feeling it easy and comfortably familiar on his tongue.
"If Josh is cool with it," Dean told him.
"I'm sure he'll say yes!" Mouse exclaimed and reached forward, unabashedly hugging his brother tightly.
Dean didn't react for a moment, then, slowly he wrapped his arms around his little brother and squeezed as tightly as he dared, smiling despite the lump in his throat.
Author's Note:
Chapter title comes from a Bruce Springsteen song.
Thanks to whimsicalbarwench, jensensgirl3, Ruby, maxandkiz, battlemaiden518, Sallyannerenee, reannablue, StyxxsOmega, SPN Mum, samgirl19, BranchSuper, SamDeanLover28, brihun2388, SUPERNATANGEL67, Souless666, Trucklady53, tigerman73, Nalana88, and Kas3y for reviewing.
I don't know what the inside of the CPS buildings look like so I am using my imagination and limited knowledge from television/movies and books. If I've made any glaring errors, I apologize.
Please take a moment to review and I'll post the next chapter ASAP!