When the Cradle Falls
Chapter Two: In the Yellow House
In a yellow house on a street named after a tree, a girl sat at the kitchen table, head bowed lowly over a plate of stale scrambled eggs. The other occupant at the table ruffled the newspaper loudly, fork aiming and missing the plate in front of him.
Gathering up some courage, she spoke. "Dad, I don't think I'll be home for dinner tonight. I'm tutoring and I promised some of the kids I tutored I'd stay and watch their band concert."
He shrugged from behind the paper. "Well, talk to your mother."
"Okay. I'll do that before I leave." Quickly, she stood and deposited the eggs down the garbage disposal.
Alice tromped up the old stairs and knocked on the doorframe of the parents' room. "Mom?" she asked. "I just wanted to let you know I'm not gonna be home for dinner."
"Why not, Alice? I was planning on making that roast you love so much."
"School stuff. Tutoring."
"That late?"
"Well, I'm also watching a band concert for some of the kids I tutor. They'd be crushed if I didn't go."
With a tired sigh, the older woman shoved another pillow underneath her head. "That's fine, honey. There's a lunch for you in the fridge. Tell your father his is in there as well."
Alice's hands curled around the frame. She peered further into the darkened room, spotting the outline of her mother underneath a thin sheet. One veined hand moved slowly through the air, grasping for something Alice couldn't see.
Stepping away slowly, Alice returned to the kitchen and relayed the older woman's words. She reached into the fridge to grab a brown paper bag.
"Are you sure that one's yours?" Her father asked.
"They're the same, aren't they?" Alice squinted her eyes at the bag in disdain.
"I know you like turkey and I don't. Why don't you go ask your mother which one is which?"
Setting the crumpled bag back into the fridge, Alice slammed it shut and grabbed her backpack. "It's fine; I'll just buy something at school."
Still behind the newspaper, he said, "Alice, your mother stayed up late to make that for you."
Why don't you eat it then, she thought bitterly, but quietly stole away out the front door before he could finish the lecture he wasn't even paying attention to.
By the time she got to the end of the block, Alice was trying very hard not to blush. She looked down and composed herself, so there was only a hint of a smirk.
There, leaning against the street sign was Dean Winchester. His smirk was a little more pronounced. He tried to smother his pride, but it was hard when he had a girl who looked like this. "Hey, Allie-cat," he greeted her, swinging from the street sign, planting a lingering kiss on her lips.
"Dean," she returned, voice low.
Still charming as ever, he reached forward and lightly tugged on the end of a shiny ringlet. "Your hair looks nice."
Self-conscious for a moment, Alice patted her freshly curled hair and smiled shyly at Dean. It was so absurd she let herself get taken with this boy. For starters, he was two years younger than her. And as soon as she spotted him in the hall, she knew this wayward bad boy was trouble. But it hadn't mattered at first because, why would he pay any mind to her?
"We've got the whole night," she said, still looking at her hair. "I told my parents I was tutoring and then staying to watch a middle school band concert."
"They buy it?"
"Of course they did," Alice scoffed at the thought of her parents, staring back at the house, feeling guilty for a moment. "I can't wait till I'm out of there. They're so...set in their ways. I feel like I can't even breathe wrong without one of them saying something." The words always seemed to tumble out of her mouth. Whether it was the fact Dean had the effect, or simply because he was the first person who really seemed to listen, she didn't know and didn't care.
"Not too much longer," he assured. "What did you want to do tonight?"
Alice smiled at him, and winked as she walked by. "Find me after school."
Dean whistled lowly, and followed after her, unashamedly admiring her backside.
Dean walked a petulant Sam back to the motel room, with orders to lock the door and not let anyone in.
Sam crossed his arms and sat down on the bed. "Why? Where are you going?"
"Out."
"Where?" Sam demanded.
"None of your business," Dean shot back, resalting the window.
A sudden idea came to Sam and he stood up. "If you don't tell me where you're going, I'll tell Dad."
Almost shocked, Dean stepped back and appraised his brother. "You wouldn't." But after observing the younger boy's face defiant face, he ultimately decided Sam would. "Fine. I'm going out with Alice. I'm meeting her once she gets out of school. Happy?"
Sam just shrugged.
Moving forward, Dean ruffled a protesting younger brother's hair. "Don't worry, Sammy. In a few years you'll understand. There's so many beautiful girls in the world that need to be shown a good time."
"Sure, Dean."
Dean grabbed his leather jacket and turned to Sam before leaving. "Remember, don't answer the door. Salt it after I leave. Call Bobby if-"
"Dean, I know the drill."
"I know kid. Just checking."
"Not a kid," Sam grumbled, rolling on his side away from Dean.
"Course not," Dean responded as he shut the door. The kid needed to loosen up a little bit. He took everything too seriously and things too personally. He wanted to be treated like an adult but didn't want to hunt, but then would complain when he got left behind on a hunt. There was no pleasing an eleven-year-old Sam Winchester.
Whatever, Dean thought, shaking off Sam's behavior.
There was a pretty girl waiting for him.
By the time he returned to the high school, everyone was gone, and for a moment he thought Alice had left as well. As he drew closer, he could see a lone figure sitting on the steps of the school. The long hair draped across her face and the book on her lap.
He walked up to her slowly, making heavier steps so she would notice him sooner. She did and slowly looked up, blinking several times, as if to check that he wasn't just a mirage.
"Sorry I'm late. I just had to make sure Sammy was alright."
Nodding graciously, Alice stowed the book in her bag. "That's fine." They stared in awkward silence for a moment.
"Are you okay?" Dean asked.
Coming down from the steps, Alice nodded, but walked right past him. "I'm fine."
"I wasn't gonna ditch you, if that's what you were thinking."
"No, I didn't think that. I just had a long day. Now, are you coming or not?" Her tone was brusque, so Dean quickly walked after her.
"Do you have somewhere in mind?" he asked, after awhile. Alice stared straight ahead, seemingly not enjoying Dean's company. He knew he had to tread carefully with this girl-she was a lot smarter than the ones he normally went for. Definitely more of a good girl. The church-going types were like a big catch, and it wasn't common that Dean could snag one, let alone such a good one. Still as smart as she was, she was all the more innocent.
"I did, actually." Words clipped, Alice powered ahead, glancing once at Dean, as if to make sure he was still there. Dean shook his head. Wasn't it the dude's job to act cold and distant after hooking up? This morning she was perfectly happy to see him. Now, she seemed like she was barely tolerating his presence. If it was a ploy, it definitely intrigued him.
"You gonna tell me where?"
She gave him the side-eye. "Don't think so." It was more out of annoyance than flirtatiousness.
The two walked for quite awhile, past the edge of town, and into a sort of industrial yard. Maybe this Alice chick wasn't as innocent as she let on.
They walked across a gravel lot as the cloudy sky had darkened a bit. There wasn't any sense where the sun was, but Dean guessed it was hidden behind the brick chimneys billowing smoke.
"Here," Alice said. She had stopped and Dean had to stare long enough to figure out exactly what he was looking at. Eventually, he realized.
A junkyard.
"A junkyard?" he asked, almost disbelievingly.
She shrugged. "My youth group cleaned up this spot as a service project. I know: cleaning up a dump in an industrial park, no less." She chuckled a bit. "Bet a girl never took you on a date here."
Dean mentally noted he didn't do dates. Even at a dump. "Nope," he popped the 'p'. "Never."
She glanced at him. "Well then, lucky you. Try and keep up, yeah?" She literally began to scale a pile of garbage, and Dean kind of stared at her for a second, just to make sure she was real.
Dean quickly followed behind her, the climb a nice and easy conditioning exercise.
Alice climbed over a piece of twisted metal and settled over the edge of some grimy porcelain. Confused for a moment, Dean once again tried to figure out what he was looking at. After inspecting the oblong shape, he determined Alice was sitting in a claw footed bath tub.
She stared at him, lips appearing they could either smirk or frown. Her nails tapped the edge of the tub.
Muttering something, Dean hoisted himself over the edge and submerged himself, knees pressed right up against Alice's. "Cozy," she noted.
Settling for his lady-killer smile, Dean tried to move his face closer to hers but found difficulty in the confined tub. Alice reveled a bit in his struggle. He eventually sat back, pretending he'd meant to do every movement.
"You should know, I had every intention of fucking you tonight, but not anymore." Alice tapped her chin contemplatively, tone crass.
Absolutely floored, Dean tried to hide his surprise, and then disappointment. Of course the thought had crossed his mind, and he was pretty optimistic with enough charm, Alice would actually hear him out. And also, he'd never heard her use such vulgar language. "Was it because I was late?"
She shrugged. "I don't really know. I just don't feel like it anymore." Her eyes flicked up to him. "Am I worth still hanging around?"
"Is this a test?"
She tilted her head, eyebrows raised. "Am I being played? You could accuse me of being a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them."
Dean crossed his arms. "Then why are we here? You don't normally seem to fall for the type like me."
"You're not wrong."
"Then what?"
Alice looked down. "I felt like I threw myself off a cliff when I slept with you."
He shrugged. "Yeah well you're the one who jumped. Could've just said no," he huffed. "I promise I wouldn't have busted out crying or anything embarrassing like that."
Alice acknowledged this with a nod. She leaned forward, knees pressing more into Dean's. "You would've brushed it off like it was nothing, and just moved on to the next girl. I think that's partially what makes you so damn interesting. You've really got nothing to lose, huh?"
He shrugged. "Not in this town. Except maybe you."
She scoffed. "We're not gonna do that. It's obvious you're not here to get attached to me-you said it yourself your father travels a lot. And I'm not in the business to get involved with someone younger than me, especially when college is so close."
"Then what the hell are we doing?"
Alice shrugged. "I have no idea. I feel like that entire conversation was completely asinine."
"Just see where it goes?" Dean offered.
"Well we both know it's going nowhere, but may as well make the road interesting." She glanced at him shyly, eyelids drooping low. It was that one simple thing that always sucked some air out of Dean's lungs.
"Are you saying…?"
She laughed. "There's more than one way to have fun, Dean."
It was a long night. They sat in an old bathtub, pressed knee to knee, and talked to the stars, and then pressed against each other even further, clothes strewn about. When it was done, Dean walked Alice back and kissed her in front of the yellow house.
He waited until Alice was safely inside before walking away. And she watched him behind a pulled back curtain until he turned the corner, and wondered what the hell she was doing.
"Alice?"
Spinning around, she caught a glimpse of her mother, bent in half on a floral arm chair. She had a glass tumbler in one hand with something particular in it. Sherry Mercer wore a thin pink bathrobe over plaid house pants.
"How was the concert?" Sherry's eyes tracked Alice's movement loosely.
"Oh, really good. The flute section is really strong this year. I'm gonna head to bed; you should too."
"I will," Sherry assured.
Alice walked forward to take the glass from her mother. "Here, I can put that in the dishwasher."
Sherry moved her hand away. "I'll do it. Get some sleep. Don't worry, I won't be up too late."
"Good night, Mom."
"You know I'm proud of you, don't you, Alice?"
Alice nodded. "Thanks.
"Sure, sure," she heard while climbing up the stairs. Alice quickly peeked into her parents' room and saw her father snoring, sprawled across the expanse of the bed. She knew he had an alarm set early for the next morning.
After shutting herself in her room, Alice tucked the white, lacy covers under her chin and stared at the slightly crooked crucifix directly opposite the bed. The room was predominantly white, with dark wood furniture, the walls decorated sparsely.
The clock ticked several times as Alice threw the covers back and scraped across the floor. She grabbed the crucifix and wrenched it down from the wall, and laid it gently on the top of the dresser.
She slept a little easier that night. Alice always tended to toss at odd hours, turning at other ones.
By the next morning, when she woke, and there was an unsettling feeling, deep within herself, much heavier than the pit she usually felt.
But the damage was already done. There was no way to stop it.
Thank you for all of those who have reviewed or showed interest in my story. I was thinking about my story and feel like I didn't really give you guys a whole of information. As you could maybe guess by the title, this is a multi-generational fic, starting with Dean and Alice. The series will mostly be canon, but obviously with a deeper family dimension to it. That's a huge part that I feel like I should tell you. So if that's a type of thing that turns you off, then I'm sorry if you were looking for something else in the story. If not, then I hope you'll stick around and review and enjoy.