This chapter is longer than I thought it was but still not super long. Here we have the beginning of a plot unfold. Much excitement to get your thoughts.

Enjoy!

~TH~

The building was old, Caleb would have called it vintage. Then again, Caleb wasn't there. If he was, then there was no way Dean would have gotten anywhere near the building that housed some form of unknown cult. And there was definitely no way that he'd be knocking on the door.

It had been a week since he'd left his dad, five days since he'd visited the bar. The temperature continued to drop and Dean thought he might have the start of a cold. Hopefully it would be nothing more than that. Either way. He was hungry and cold and as much as he wanted to just lay there and die, the Winchester spirit kept him from carrying out his fatalistic plan. Mr. Whiteman opened on the first knock.

"Dean!"

"Uh, hey Mr. Whiteman. I'm starting to think the Westside bridge would have been the better option."

The older man frowned, turning to let the boy in. "Actually, the Eastside bridge offers more protection from the wind."

"Good to know."

"Have you been there this whole time?"

Dean shrugged, the warm building causing his bones to ache. It wasn't the coldest weather he'd been out in, but without any of the proper gear, it might as well have been subzero. The warmth gave him the sudden desire to burst into tears.

"Well, come in, come in, I can give you the tour later. For now, sit down in front of the fire while I get you something to eat."

"Yeah." The small hallway led to a room with a large, brick fireplace. A couch sat across from the burning hearth with several other chairs around the room. A large rug took up most of the floor, adding a homey feel that reminded him of the Kansas house that was the only home he'd ever had.

Mr. Whiteman reappeared, carrying a tray with a mug and a plate. Dean took the mug, enjoying the rich hot chocolate but even more the warmth it brought. It had been cold. Especially at night. It was better during the days and he'd done his best to stay indoors when possible. And he'd managed to eat some, but hadn't had much of an appetite. He didn't know if he was sick or if he had just tapped into that part of his brain that used to survive for two weeks on four twenties and a "only call if someone's bleeding" order.

He stared at the sandwich for a second, knowing he should probably eat it, but just not… wanting to. He was so very very tired.

"Are you alright son?"

Dean jerked, nearly splashing some of the hot chocolate on himself.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to scare you. You just seemed far away."

"I'm fine." He answered quietly.

The man nodded, "What exactly are you looking for Dean?"

The question caught him off guard. "Looking for?"

"Do you just want a place to stay? Or are you looking for something to make you better. Something to make you happier."

"Look man," Dean stood, trying to keep from shivering and looking more weak than he already felt. "I don't want any part of your cult, or family, or whatever you call it. I just… I just need a place to not freeze to death at but if there are some sort of strings attached to staying here I can find somewhere else."

"Dean, please stay." Whiteman laid a gentle hand on his arm. "I promise you there are no strings attached. If you simply want to stay until it's warmer or you have somewhere else to go, I'd rather you be here than out there. You're nearly frozen as it is. And you've lost weight in the few days since I've seen you. Please stay."

Dean glanced towards the door, before slowly nodding and sitting down.

"Good." The man smiled.

~SPN~

"This is your room, Dean." Whiteman pushed open one of many doors in a long hallway.

The room was small but cleaner than most of the motels they stayed at. There were two single beds, shoved against the wall on opposite sides of the room. It kind of reminded him of Sonny's. He quickly pushed that thought away.

"Carlos will be your roommate. He'll be in shortly. If you have any questions you can ask him or you can come find me." Whiteman motioned towards one of the beds. "The bed is ready but don't feel embarrassed if you need to ask for more sheets or blankets or anything."

"I'll be fine. Thanks." Dean said shortly. He knew he shouldn't be rude. This man was trying to help him. He should… he should be grateful. But he didn't. All he felt was anger and embarrassment. He'd come here out of self preservation. A decision he was trying very hard not to regret. Whiteman had promised him no strings. There was no reason to feel so… wrong about this. Maybe they weren't a cult. There didn't seem to be anything supernatural or demonic. Caleb would know.

But Caleb wasn't here.

Caleb hadn't even answered his phone calls.

Not even when he had begged.

Caleb had picked a side, the same side everyone always chose. And it was never his.

"Dean?"

Dean's head snapped up to look at the old man's eyes. He saw pity there. He hated that he saw pity there. He didn't ask for it. He didn't want it or need it. He didn't need anyone. He just needed a place to sleep until he figured out what he was going to do.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

Whiteman sighed, "Dean I won't ask anything of you, but if you ever need to talk I am here."

"Noted."

"I'll… I'll leave you to get settled. Dinner is at six."

"Thanks."

Another sigh and glance of pity, then the man was gone.

Get settled?

What did he have to settle?

He dropped his duffle beside the bed and sat down. The mattress was soft. Like the beds at Mac's, or maybe closer to Jim's. Better than motels and much better than the ground.

There he went, thinking about the Brotherhood again. How could he not? He was still a member, though his ring was shoved into the bottom of his duffle at the moment. He was still a hunter. At least he was supposed to be. He hadn't even looked into a hunt but he was just… so tired. So very, very tired.

"Hey."

Dean stood, spinning around and coming face to face with someone he didn't know.

"Oh, sorry," The man, boy? Laughed awkwardly, running a hand through his curly black hair. "I'm Carlos."

The hunter blinked at him, waiting for every nerve in his body to stop screaming at him to grab his bag and get out of there. "Dean." He finally said.

"Nice to meet you. Looks like we're roommates."

Dean nodded. Carlos walked towards his own bed, but Dean still remained standing.

"So," Carlos began, "How old are you?"

Was this just small talk or was there some kind of reason for the question? If so, what did it matter anyway? "Twenty."

"Ah, nice. You got a few months on me then. I'll hit the big two-o next month."

Dean didn't answer, but finally sat back down on his bed.

"Been here almost a year though." Carlos continued, clearly ignoring his new roommates mood. "It's the best thing that ever happened to me. Hot food, clean clothes," His eyes roamed to Dean's face and the older boy glanced away. "No one hits you."

"I got in a fight." Dean finally spoke. He wasn't sure why he was still defending his father. Why would he care what people thought of him? Maybe because deep down Dean knew that his dad had been right. About everything. He'd only gotten what he deserved and he was lucky it had taken this long. He'd screwed up one too many times and now-

"Yeah and let me guess, his name starts with D and ends with ad." Carlos said with an exaggerated eye roll.

Dean started to make another protest but he was cut off.

"You don't have to hide it dude. No one here is gonna care. Pretty much everyone has been abused in some form. Some worse than others. But no one is here because their life before was all sunshine and rainbows."

"Whatever."

"Yeah," Carlos rolled his eyes again, digging through the dresser next to his bed. "Whatever." He pulled out a container of pills, quickly popping one in his mouth. He noticed Dean watching him. "You want some?"

Oh great. He was roomed with a drug addict just what he needed. "Aren't you going to get kicked out if you're caught with those? Isn't that one of the most universal shelter rules?" Dean moved back on the bed so that he could rest his head up against the wall.

"Dude, first off, this isn't a shelter. Second, these are not only allowed, but endorsed by Mr. Whiteman." His voice softened a little and Dean thought he might have seen just a hint of the pity sneaking in his eyes before it was quickly covered. "And they help. A lot. It'll help you get through your first night better."

And for a second Dean really thought about it. Who would know? Who would care? His dad wouldn't. His dad had never even discussed drugs with him. He was pretty sure that Bobby did something. Smoked marijuana at the very least. But he could never get the man to fess up to it. Probably because Jim would not have approved. Then there was Mac who probably had a full presentation ready about the danger of drugs. He'd definitely heard speeches about not getting hooked on opioids after a particularly bad scrape up.

Then, of course, there was Caleb. Caleb who had given him the "don't do drugs" spiel. But what had his reasoning been at the time?

Don't experiment with drugs because I said so. Sammy needs you. Who will take care of Sammy if you get lost to drugs?

Well Caleb wasn't here. And Sammy certainly didn't need him now. That had been made very clear to him.

What was he thinking? A guy he literally just met who Dean was ninety percent sure was part of a cult, just offered him drugs and he was even considering it? Maybe he truly had lost it.

"No, I'm- uh, I'm good."

"Suit yourself." The boy shrugged, "But if it gets to be too much, just let me know."

"Yeah, whatever."

Carlos raised his hands. "Hey, I'm only offering."

Dean sighed, rubbing at the ache that had settled behind his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'll let you know."

~TH~

Some new characters and old :)

I don't plan on posting again until next Friday so hopefully the double shot this week will hold you off until then lol.

So what are we thinking? Who do we like, we do we not like? Is Dean okay? Is more going on or is this just a place to rest?

Next chapter is a good one (in my oh so humble opinion) so I hope you enjoyed the build up.

Please, please, please let me know what you think!

Much love and God bless,

Jamie