Mason City? Either the city's small enough to be a town, or we haven't gotten close enough for us to really look around. Dean drove passed the sign inviting us into town, ahead I could see a traffic light, and a bunch of buildings. Then he made a sharp turn, passing in front oncoming traffic, and down a gravel road. Not even a mile later, Dean turned left again. For a second, I thought we were going to be living on a ranch, but it's way too cold for that, I think. It had a board above the drive way and a wire fence in the front; what was I to think?
Moving on; as Dean drove down the gravel driveway, I saw a nice, one level house similar to a ranch style. The house was painted a deep burgundy red, the deck was pretty small while the front yard was huge, behind it was a bunch of beat up cars. On the other side of the drive way was nothing but another unkempt yard just begging for a trim and the barb wire fence be removed. Basically the dream teenage barn party.
"Is this home?" I whispered as Dean parked the car.
We didn't bother grabbing our bags, except Sam who grabbed his laptop bag, and the four of us went 'home'. Although the dark, red oak door and small deck was inviting, the inside was a whole different story. Stepping in through the door, I was not surprised to see the house was filthy and in the process of renovation. Granted, it's not a whole lot of renovations, but it's not what you would want to see when walking into a new house. The entry way was divided into three hallways; two were sitting rooms and the other was a narrow, seemingly endless hallway. Sam turned left down the hall, Dean turned right into the first sitting room, and I followed Bobby down the stairs into the second sitting room. Of course, it's not just a sitting room.
What house is complete without a kitchen and a dining room? Especially if both of these rooms had carpet while the sitting room had concrete. Could be sub-flooring too, don't hold me accountable. This house looks more awkward then I'm letting on. I mean, who has, like, two or more large sitting rooms with an even smaller kitchen and dining room at separate ends? Oh, and a sliding door that leads into an enclosed deck. On top of that, besides the walls, three small flights of stairs separated the rooms where Dean and Sam were.
Man, this is a lot of space for the four of us.
I glanced over at Bobby, wondering how he was taking this. However, he was sitting on one of the white cloth covered couches, staring at the floor blankly. Don't ask me how again, but I had a feeling he was missing something like Dean. A part of me wanted to ask what was up, then another part of me wanted to keep my distance.
"Man, another sitting room? This is, what, the third one I've seen?" Dean mentioned, walking down the stairs. "Got a good size basement, and a bathroom near the back door. I don't get with all the stairs, but that never hurt anybody."
"I found three bedrooms and another bathroom up there." Sam informed, walking in from the dining room. "Looks like everything's there; bed, books, clothes. Is there food in the fridge?"
Three bedrooms? A fully refurbished home? And now a well stocked cupboard. Man, I think we're set for a new life here. I just hope they will eventually trust me.
"I checked all the rooms, clean as a whistle. No hex bags, no sulfur, not even a drop of blood." Sam continued, grabbing a few beers from the fridge. Glancing at me, he went back to the fridge and brought out two cans of soda.
Clean? What kind of dimension is Sam living in? There were nothing but unopened boxes, dust bunnies in the corner, cob webs in another. I wouldn't doubt if the last tenant forgot to flush before leaving.
"What'd you two think?" Dean asked, handing me a can of purple soda and Bobby a beer. Popping the tab up, I watched the two stare each other down, the beer bottle dangling from Dean's hand between them. I could sense the tensity between the two. I expected Bobby to slap the bottle away and start an argument. Which would give me the chance to claim a room. Of course that didn't happen, instead Bobby took the bottle and gulped half of it.
"It's… nice." I answered uncertainly. Trust me, there was a lot more I wanted to say.
"It'll do." Bobby answered in a dark tone, standing up with his beer, he walked over to me. I felt my back tense, my breathing stop, and my toes clenched up as if to run. His blue eyes glaring into mine, just like he did when we first met, only I expected him to take a swing at me.
"I get the master." He said in a deep voice. I bit down on my tongue, resisting the urge to belly-ache laugh. Bobby was seriously going to fight with me over who get's what room. And why tell me this? I'm not the only one in the room here. "You get the basement."
I knew what Bobby was doing; he doesn't trust me enough to sleep on the same floor as him, Dean and Sam. I could see Dean and Sam were looking at him with concerned glances; there were two more rooms he could put me in. But I'm not complaining, I wouldn't want to be sleep on the same floor as him either. I'll wake up one morning with a gun to my head. This way, I'll hear his drunk ass fall and give me a running start.
"What about you two?" I asked, looking over at Dean and Sam, feeling Bobby's glare burning into my head.
"We live on the road, kiddo." Dean answered, patting my shoulder.
"On the road?" I asked, swallowing the disappointment in my voice.
Deep breath, focus on something else, I instructed myself before continuing.
On the road? Dean and Sam live on the road? I know there are those who prefer to live life on the go, but these two didn't seem the type. Didn't they have jobs? Don't they go to school? Sam certainly seems the type to be going to school, and Dean would be the one to take a job fixing cars.
"Yeah, it's part of our job." Sam said, I could tell he was feeding me half truths. But I don't trust him either, so no big deal.
"Like traveling salesmen?"
"Not really, more like terminators." Dean grunted after Sam stomped on his foot.
"Ok, John Connor. Aren't you guys hanging around?" I was hoping at least Dean would be staying. It would make living here more bearable. I don't have a grudge towards Sam or Bobby, but at least Dean doesn't give me pissed off, malevolent glances. Is this how foster parents and siblings treat each other?
"Wait, you've seen that movie?"
"Yes, I think."
"Well, don't worry, we'll be here for a few days." Dean said with a reassuring smile. "We'll look around town tomorrow, find your school, maybe get you a bike and maybe a cellphone. How's that sound?"
I felt slightly lit up inside, not only do I get to see a actual town, but I get to get away from Bobby and Sam.
"Sounds great."
"You guys wanna order some pizza or somethin'? I'm starving." Sam asked, pulling out his laptop and sitting on the couch. Now that I actually get a look at the furniture, I was pleasantly surprised that the furniture looked as good as they do. The couch Sam was sitting on was made of red leather, the other two were dark brown and light red picnic stripped design.
"Come on, let's check out your room."
I have to admit, Dean sucks at describing things. The basement was a good size, but it reeked of musty clothes and it looked pretty dingy. I wouldn't be surprised if there were black bars behind the wall.
"Ah, it's not that bad."
I looked at him with a 'really?' expression.
"Hey, I lived in a hotel where asshole's with kids didn't throw the diapers away, they shoved them under the mattress."
"Talk about unsanitary." I really wish he didn't say that. Not only did I lose my appetite, now I'll never go to another hotel as long as I live. And to think these two live in hotels and have had worse things happen to them. Talk about nauseating.
Dropping the topic, I looked around the room. A futon laid in one corner under the only small window in the room, a tv set across from it, two large bookshelf's next to the tv, boxes covered the floor and a decent sized dresser. I could tell I had a few long days ahead of me. To be honest, for the first time since I woke, I'm actually excited.
"Um, want help unpacking?"
"Thanks, but I think I got it." Actually, I wanted Dean to stick around. I had so many questions I hope he had answers to. But, I'm more in the mood to personalize the first room I'll ever remember having.
"You sure?"
"Yeah, thanks."
"Oh and hey, don't let Sam and Bobby get to ya." I looked at Dean, looking for any sign he was being naive or if he was in denial. I know they're not bad guys, but they're acting like dicks. "They're good guys, they would take a bullet for you in a heart beat."
"Actually it looks like they would be pulling the trigger." Why the hell did I say that? Dean's eyes turned cold and hard, and his lips pinched together so tight they turned white.
"Cas, come on." Dean's voice grew dark and defensive. I guess he's been in the family longer, so it would make sense that he's defensive over them. "They're just exhausted, gotta give them time."
"Sorry, I just….."
"Yeah, it's alright." As he turned and headed out, I suddenly felt guilty. I didn't mean to upset him, nor did I mean what I said. Ok, I did, but it was the truth. I would hope Dean would expect that out of me. "Just take it easy, come on up when you're done."
"What kind of drunk is he?" I asked before Dean could disappear up the stairs.
"What?" He asked, laughing like I pulled a joke. Sad part is, I wish it was a joke.
"What kind of drunk is Bobby? You know, so I know what to do when he's been drinking too much."
"You got nothin' to worry about." Dean smiled again. "Bobby does drink a lot, but he isn't really the violent type. His ol'man was an abusive drunk. He would rather die than turn into him."