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Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Snippets One Hundred Twenty: 1995 IV

        Castiel’s head turned as he heard a commotion at the front door.   The door closed and someone was running towards the bedrooms. 

        “Dean!”  Sam’s head peeked into the bedroom.  He saw his brother sleeping, grinned, ran and jumped on the bed.  Dean jumped, a look of surprise on his face.

        “Sam?”  He looked beyond his brother to see if his father had followed.  The sound of the Impala’s engine entered his clouded mind.  “Where’s Dad going?”

        “He said he had a hunt to finish,” Sam answered, staring his his brother.  “What happened to you?”

        Cas walked over to the bed he had deserted when the younger Winchester entered the room.  Dean stared at his brother.

        “He didn’t need to talk to me?”

        “No, Dean.  He said you knew what he wanted.”

        “Oh,” was all the older brother said.

        Sam punched his brother’s shoulder.  “What happened to you?”

        “I had an accident.  I tripped and fell into something.”

        “Are you okay?”

        “Yeah, Sam.  I’m always okay. Right?”

        “You would have liked Flagstaff, Dean.”

        “I don’t want to talk about it, Sammy,” the older boy whispered softly.

        “Okay.  Can we eat?  I’m starved,” Sam grinned as he spoke.

        “Yeah.  Give me a few minutes.”

        Castiel, listening to the conversation thought that Sam’s next walk would bring him in contact with poison ivy or poison oak.    He was still contemplating John Winchester.

        Dean entered the kitchen and found some can spaghetti and put the food into a pan and turned on the stove.  He set a bowl for Sam, and passed out on the kitchen floor. 

        Sam ran into the kitchen and turned off the stove.  He  ran next door and got the elderly lady who lived there. 

        The woman knelt beside the boy and checked him.  She looked up at the darker of the two.

        “He’s been injured.  When was the last time he had a meal?”

        “I…I don’t know.  I was in Arizona.”

        “Where’s your Dad?  I saw him drive up.”

        “He had to finish a job.  I can get our Uncle.”

        “Get him.  If that pasta is for you, finish heating it and eat.  I’ll revive this one and fix him some soup.  I had no idea he was here alone all this time; and injured, too.”

        The woman was a retired nurse.  She managed to waken Dean with unexpected help from an angel.  The boy managed to rise and apologized. 

        “You don’t owe me one.  Let’s get you into bed.  You look exhausted.  I’ll bring you some soup. When was your last meal?

        Dean turned red, “The afternoon Dad left to find Sam.  He ran away.”

        “He beat you?”

        “I fell.”

        “Of course you did.  I’ll make your soup.”

        The nurse called the number Sam gave her.  She made soup and brought it to the older boy.  After he ate, Sam entered the bedroom, a look of concern on his face.  He had not realized that Dean was in such a bad shape.  Guilt showed in his eyes.

        Dean ate the soup and laid down on the bed and slept.  Late in the evening, Bobby arrived.  He entered the house without knocking.  He stared at the nurse who returned his gaze.

        Sam was reading a book in the kitchen and walked into the living room.  Bobby stared at him and cut him off before the boy could speak.

        “How’s Dean?”

        He had the first meal he has eaten in a week.  I think his brother’s arrival woke him from the first sleep he’s had.”


        “The boy was beaten, Mr. Singer.  I am obligated to report this.”

        “The boys will end up in the system.  Let me take them.   Believe me, his Father will pay for this.”

        “I shouldn’t,  but the system isn’t a good one and he’s older.  All right.  I am going to head home, Mr. Singer.  Get those boys out of here.”

        Bobby entered the bedroom with a quiet Sam behind him.

        “Well, boy, what have you gotten into this time?”

        “I fell, Uncle Bobby.”

        “Idjit.  I’m no more stupid than the nurse.  Sam, pack everything you boys have.  No, Dean, stay put.  You’re healing well, but you look like you did a round with a prizefighter.”

        Within an hour, Bobby had the boys in his car.  Sam rode shotgun, and Dean slept in the back seat with an angel watching over him.

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