Lambs for Slaughter

Chapter 1

As he watched the steam rise from the boiling water inside the cracked ceramic pot atop the rusted stove, Dean rubbed a hand across his face and chewed on the inside of his cheek to hold in a groan. The thin box of spongebob-shaped Kraft Macaroni and Cheese was the last of the food tucked away in their shitty motel room in Upstate New York. Their dad had promised he wouldn't be away for more than two weeks this time, but when he called half an hour ago and told Dean that his hunt of the Rugaru was more complicated than anticipated, Dean had the "audacity" to ask him about money for food.

Really, he should have known better than to question John's judgement.

According to his father, Dean was sixteen now and perfectly capable of finding a way to put food on the table for Sam until he returned. It wasn't that he disagreed with his father, he just wished he'd known about this before they ran out of money. Dean wasn't sure he would have been able to stretch the sparse cash his father gave them any more than he had in the past two and a half weeks, but he would have at least started searching for a job earlier. Even if he went out and got a job now, the paycheck wouldn't come in time, and sure, he could go hustle some pool, but there was a chance he wouldn't be able to get into the bars and he'd definitely be home too late to feed Sammy anyway.

He needed a quick solution. Dean poured the stiff noodles into the water before grabbing the last of the half-gallon of milk and small butter packets from the sparse fridge. While he waited for the macaroni to soften, Dean walked out of the small kitchen to check on his brother, who was laying across the stained grey carpet coloring on a plain sheet of grid paper. His small army men were strewn out around him.

"How's it going, Sammy?"

His brother shrugged and moved his hand to the side to show Dean his picture. "Fine. I'm just drawing out a board game we could maybe play later. Something like Chess, maybe."

"How about Checkers?" Dean shot back with a small grimace. Sam was only eleven and already so much smarter than Dean ever was. He wouldn't be able to pick up Chess even if he tried, John had said as much the one time he asked about the game.

Sam gave a slight roll of his eyes and continued his drawing. "Well we need something to keep us occupied, don't we? I heard you on the phone with Dad. He isn't coming back soon, is he?"

"Ah, no. The hunt isn't as easy as he thought, so..."

"But didn't we spend the last of the money he gave us on groceries? He was only supposed to be gone for two weeks!"

The frustration was evident in his brother's voice, and Dean shifted unsteadily on his feet. He was sixteen now, he was old enough to put food on the table. It was fine. He could handle this. "Don't worry, Sammy, I'll figure something out. The Mac & Cheese will be ready soon, and then I'll pick up something for dinner. What sounds good?"

Sam eyed him suspiciously. "I thought..."

Dean shook his head, "It's fine. What do you want?"

"I guess I'd like two peanut butter sandwiches for dinner. If you're sure."

"I'm sure," Dean lied, his jaw working anxiously while he tried to figure out what the hell he was going to do. He walked back into the kitchen and strained the macaroni the best he could, only slightly burning himself with the steaming water in the process, and stirred in the rest of the ingredients. Once lunch was finished, Dean divided it into two bowls, making sure to put more into Sam's. He was still growing after all.

They ate at the table that was barely big enough for the two of them and finished off their lunch relatively quickly. Sam was tired after their morning sparring practice, as dictated by their father, and decided to have a nap before their evening walk. Dean didn't want to keep his brother locked up inside the motel room, so he took Sam outside almost every day if the weather was nice. There was a decent park a few blocks away and a set of hiking trails that hadn't experienced anything unusual in the last few years (Dean checked).

"Okay, I'm going to pick up some food, alright?"

Sam grunted his agreement from where he was wriggling underneath the sheets.

"And you have your phone?"

"Yes, Dean."

"And your knife?"

"You know I do."

Dean sighed and tried to shake the uneasy feeling he had of leaving his brother alone. He hated being separated from Sammy. "Okay. Smell you later, bitch."

"Later, Jerk."

XX

Dean tugged his long sleeved flannel shirt tighter around his body against the chill and looked up at the flashing sign above. He didn't see any security cameras outside of the po-dunk supermarket, so he didn't think he could be caught that way. Just a quick in and out. Grab the peanut butter and bread for now, and then come up with a plan for the rest of the food after that. Easy peasy.

His plan would have worked, too, except on his way out, he bumped into a moustached deputy with a toothpick sticking out between his teeth. The shop owner's cries of distress were enough for him to stop Dean's retreat with a tight grip on his arm, but Dean's training had him twisting out of the way on instinct. The deputy was quicker than anticipated, however, and wrapped both arms around his waist to hold him still. Dean let out a growl and thrust his elbow backwards into the deputy's nose. The faint crack that echoed was simultaneously satisfying and nauseating as he sprinted down the street. His escape only lasted another minute or so before another cop came out of freakin nowhere and had him pinned down over the hood of the patrol car with an ooph. The deputy from before caught up with them and cursed loudly, keeping one hand around his broken nose as blood trickled down his face.

"You really, really shouldn't have done that, kid." He snarled at Dean with stained teeth. Dean rolled his eyes in response but kept his mouth shut as he attempted to figure out a way to escape. He needed to get the food back to Sammy. He raised his cheek to figure out what happened to the bread and felt his heart sink as he saw the crumpled up bag sitting in the middle of the road, already run over by a passing car.

The scene distracted him enough to be startled when handcuffs were brought across his wrist, the cool metal digging into the skin more than was probably necessary. He had a brief moment of panic of what his dad would say about him getting arrested.

Shit.

Whatever it was, it wouldn't be good, and Dean would most likely spend the next week hiding blossoming bruises from his brother.

"Sonny will take care of this punk, won't he?"

Who the hell was Sonny?

XX

Aaron jolted awake when the wheels of the plane touched down on the runway. It had been a quick flight, but he was pleased that he was able to get some rest for an uninterrupted hour. He was still exhausted, a week long trial spent in the courthouse in D.C. will do that to you. His first major win since graduating law school at George Washington and starting at the District Attorney's office. His superiors told him to go out and celebrate, which...was not Aaron's strong suit. His idea of a celebration was having dinner and a nice glass of wine at home with his wife, but as Haley was out visiting her mother, who was recovering from radiation for Colon cancer, Aaron decided to fly out to see Sonny for the week.

They'd grown up together from the time Sonny's family moved to Manassas when he was five and the two boys hit it off almost immediately when Aaron offered a turn on his scooter. The two of them were inseparable for nearly eleven years until Sonny got involved with a neighborhood gang and they grew apart, much to Aaron's dismay. It took a few arrests on his part and a stint in a correctional facility, but Sonny eventually separated himself from the gang by moving out of Virgina and standing on his own two feet again. He was Aaron's best man at his wedding after getting cleaned up and Aaron was the main investor when Sonny decided to buy a house in Upstate New York and renovate it into a Boy's Home to help troubled young men before they ended up in prison.

Aaron visited at least two or three times a year to check up on the home and see Sonny, so it wasn't completely out of the blue to call him after the jury found the defendant guilty and invited himself out to New York.  He was used to traveling, so Aaron never checked a bag, rather meticulously packing everything he needed for the week into his carry-on. He bypassed the luggage carousels and avoided hurrying passengers as he walked out the airport doors to the designated pick-up areas. As always, he offered to take a cab out to the house, but Sonny insisted on picking him up. So Aaron wasn't surprised to see his friend leaning against his beat-up black SUV, his dark eyes searching the crowd. When they met his own, Sonny's face broke out into a smile and he laughed heartily as he pulled Aaron into a hug and clapped him on the back.

"It's great to see you, Brother. Congrats on your first big win!"

Aaron pulled away with a matching grin and placed his bag into the trunk Sonny held open for him before sliding into the passenger seat. "It's good to see you too, and thank you. It was a long week, so I'm glad we were able to get the conviction."

Sonny nodded his head and pulled into traffic. "Serial killer, right? I followed a bit of it on the news."

"That's correct." He didn't want to go into many details due to the gruesome nature of the crimes. Alexander Stevens had kidnapped, raped, and tortured his victims to death over the course of an entire month. Altogether the prosecution was able to find evidence linking him to nine murdered women between the ages of nineteen and twenty one. Aaron hated the fact that he couldn't prevent the deaths, but at least he could get justice for their families. "He got what he deserved. Life in prison with no chance for parole. His psychopathy doesn't allow him to feel remorse for any of the lives he took."

He watched his friend shudder at the wheel. "At least he's off the streets and can't hurt anyone anymore."

"Exactly," Aaron agreed readily. "How are the kids?"

The smile was back on Sonny's face. "They're tough, but you know how much I like a challenge. They just need to see that they're in a safe environment."

They spent the next hour of the drive discussing the boys who were staying at the home and how much each of them had improved since arriving. Sonny followed a strict schedule to keep the boys busy either doing chores or homework, while still giving them plenty of time to stretch their legs and be kids without the pressure of judging eyes on them, which usually led to the deviant behavior in the first place. A need to fit in. At the home, Sonny ensured that everyone felt comfortable enough to be themselves.

It was one of the reasons why he was Aaron's best friend. Where Sonny was structured, but easy going where it mattered, Aaron was always extremely serious, focused, and determined. It was how he graduated at the top of his class in high school, college, and law school. However, he needed a balance. Haley tried, most of the time, but Sonny never let Aaron get away with the stick up his ass for more than a few hours when they were together.

When they finally arrived at their destination, a wooden two story pale blue house built in the sixties that the two of them renovated themselves, Aaron let go of a sigh of relief. He always felt more at home the moment he stepped foot on the property he helped bring to life. The summers between finishing law school and starting at the firm were spent in New York taking apart the rotted wood and replacing it with sturdier material. Aaron sweated heavier and gained more muscle definition while building the wrap-around white porch than he had since playing football in high school. The roof had taken some finagling, but they managed to replace the shingles without falling or breaking any bones.

"Looks good, doesn't it?" Sonny beamed with the honest pride he always wore when showing off the house.

Aaron hummed his agreement and noticed the property was suspiciously empty. Then he remembered the time of year. "The kids in school?"

"Yup. The bus should drop the boys off around four. They'll have their chores to finish and dinner to eat before they have a few hours to themselves."

Sonny led Aaron up the familiar porch steps and through the threshold. "The guest room is still the same," he gestured up the stairs. "As of right now we still have two empty beds in case more boys are brought to the house."

Aaron nodded and headed up the creaky stairs. He examined the pictures hanging off the wood frame with a light smile dusting his lips, remembering their many hikes through the surrounding woods to find the perfect nature shots for decoration for the Boy's Home. He wondered if he'd still be able to find the small waterfall they'd discovered with ease.

His room was largely the same as his last visit, though the corkboard included postcards of Aaron's most recent travels, along with the wedding photo of him and Haley. She looked beautiful in her dress and he decided to take a picture from his phone and send it to her. Aaron was disappointed that they couldn't celebrate together, but she promised to cook a nice meal for him when they were both home.

Before he could take the time to unpack, the doorbell rang downstairs. Aaron debated for a moment before deciding that Sonny could handle whoever was at the door. He folded the clothes from his small suitcase and tucked them into the homemade dresser, then took his toiletries into the private bathroom that he and Sonny would share. While mentoring teenage boys was fulfilling, enduring their bathroom habits was not. After that he unbuttoned his long-sleeved shirt in exchange for a simple black t-shirt. He allowed himself a moment of relief to not be forced to dress in a suit every day.

By the time Aaron made it downstairs, he followed the sound of voices into the living room. His eyebrows shot up in surprise to see a boy, probably around the age of sixteen, handcuffed to the armrest of the pale yellow couch. His patched up dirty jeans and torn flannel dimmed the light of his green eyes, and his brunette hair was in disarray. Judging by the coloring eye and bandaged nose of the deputy beside him, there was an altercation while bringing the boy in.

Sonny swept a hand towards Aaron when all three sets of eyes landed on him. The boy's glare was outwardly nonchalant with a hint of suspicion. He didn't seem threatened by the appearance of another man.

"Deputy Sanders, meet my good friend, Aaron Hotchner. Hotch is one of the best damn prosecutors on the Eastern Seaboard."

The boy's eyes widened in alarm.

Aaron rolled his eyes at the introduction and shook the Deputy's hand. "He's exaggerating. It's nice to meet you." He turned his gaze onto the boy who had straightened on the couch, leaning away from Aaron.  The movement slid the sleeves of his flannel up to expose the boy's forearms, which to Aaron's surprise were covered into small scratches and bites. "And who do we have here?"

The Deputy shot the boy a harsh glare before turning back to Aaron and Sonny. "Dean Winchester. I was just tellin' Sonny here that we caught him trying to steal from the market up the road. Gave us a hard time and fought back when we tried to bring him in. We filed the paperwork and let him make his phone call to his folks, but it went to voicemail so he left a message. Thought it best to bring him here until someone can come get him."

Aaron nodded and looked to Sonny expectantly. "That's fine. Thanks for bringing him in, Luke." He turned to give Dean the riot act. "This is a Boy's Home, a place that is meant to help troubled young men like yourself. A place where you can learn discipline and respect in lieu of being thrown in jail. We don't bring judgement here and we definitely don't make you talk when you don't want to. It's a safe place to stay while you work out your issues. You're free to roam the land, but the property is heavily gated so you can't simply run off without permission." He chuckled and glanced at Hotch. "Trust me, it's impossible to slip through our fingers, so you're better off taking our word for it. As the newcomer, you'll have the same responsibilities as the other boys but without the privileges. Those come with good behavior."

The boy didn't acknowledge any of the information Sonny presented him with, but the furrow between his brow told them that he was listening. The Deputy cleared his throat and stood up to move towards the armrest. "Well, it sounds like you've got it covered. Email me the report once everything is said and done." He unlocked the cuffs and tucked them into his pouch, then shook both of their hands once more before heading toward the door.

Once he was gone, Aaron leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "Dean, can you tell me where the cuts on your arms came from?" If the boy was being abused, then Aaron couldn't simply sit back and let it happen.

Dean shrugged, utterly unconcerned. "A werewolf."

Huh. Aaron would normally assume that Dean was joking or trying to play off the injuries, but Aaron had always been exceptional at reading people, and the boy didn't exhibit any behavior that indicated that he was lying. Dean's jaw was steady besides the loose shrug, his body was relaxed in an unconcerned fashion, and his hands were still. The boy might actually believe that a werewolf attacked him.

"Can I try my dad again?" He asked with a frown. His foot began tapping against the rug on the wooden floor anxiously, and his gaze darted towards the phone. Now that was the kind of behavior Aaron was familiar with.

Sonny nodded and pushed to his feet. "Be my guest, but Hotch will be here to supervise."

Dean rolled his eyes and rushed towards the rotary phone on the end table.  He shot a quick glance at Aaron, who had to admit he was curious, and entered a number after a few failed attempts. Aaron couldn't blame him. He was actually impressed Dean managed it at all.

As Dean held the receiver up to one ear, his other hand curled into a fist underneath his jaw. His eyes closed briefly as the ringer sounded and snapped open when someone must have answered on the other line.

"Dad! It's me, did you get my message?"

He chewed on the inside of his cheek while his father answered. Dean blew out a breath of relief at what Aaron assumed was a confirmation.

"Oh thank god, Bobby will take care of Sammy." Aaron was surprised, but he held his questions in as he watched Dean grow agitated and then drop his jaw. "But I'm not lost on a hunt!" His light green eyes found Aaron's dark ones before flickering towards the open window again. His voice lowered to a whisper, although Aaron was close enough to hear it. "You're just going to leave me here?"

Aaron's alarm grew when he heard that. Dean's father was going to abandon him? That was child endangerment and a very serious crime.

"How long will you be gone?" Dean's shoulders sagged and his entire demeanor changed from the confident, unbothered boy to a scared, devastated child. "I...I know I messed up, I'm sorry. But please, Dad!"

Dean winced at whatever his father said. Judging by the increased volume that was loud enough for Aaron to hear, he assumed the boy was being berated. If it was possible, Dean curled even further into himself. "You're right. I'm sorry sir. Yes sir. I understand."

He hung up the phone loosely and seemed to stay frozen and stiff for a few long moments. Before Aaron could ask him any questions, he watched the mental walls come up around Dean's mind and his face smooth out any outward emotion that was anything other than cockiness. Dean turned back towards him with a forced smirk that didn't reach his light eyes. "Guess I'm staying for a while."

In that moment, Aaron wanted to understand Dean Winchester. He wanted to learn about his past to determine how the boy grew to be so adept in the art of manipulation and self-control. What he just witnessed was beyond the skillset of a normal sixteen year old boy. However, in order to understand Dean, Aaron would need to get the boy to trust him.

And asking after him the moment he was just abandoned by his father was not the way to do it.

Aaron was careful to keep any pitying looks off of his face as he rose to his feet and nodded. "You might not believe it, Dean, but we are happy to have you. I know Sonny will take care of you." He jerked his chin towards the stairs, offering him an escape to come to terms with his new reality for the foreseeable future. "There is a free bedroom up the stairs and to the left. You're free to choose whichever bed you would like."

Dean stared at him for longer than was comfortable, eventually swallowing thickly and rushing past Aaron without so much as a word.

Aaron watched the boy hurry up the steps before heading into the kitchen to find Sonny. His friend clapped him on the shoulder and squeezed. "That one will be difficult."

His lips twitched upwards and he drew his focus towards the grocery list Sonny was writing down on a thin piece of paper. "You'll be great for him, just like all the others. Need any help?"

Since the rest of the boys would be dropped off from school within the hour, Aaron offered to drive to the grocery store. "It's the least I can do for you letting me stay here."

Sonny pointed the pen at him after marking off the last item on the list. "You're used to a two person household, Hotch. I don't know if you can handle the sheer amount of food it takes to feed seven teenage boys. They're black holes, I'm telling you."

Aaron couldn't hold back his snort. "Well, according to you, I'm 'one of the best damn prosecutors on the Eastern Seaboard.' I assure you, I can afford it."

"Can't argue with that logic," Sonny muttered with a smug grin, then fished his keys out of his jeans pocket before tossing them to Aaron. "Not a scratch."

"You mean besides the already chipped paint and dent on the passenger side door?" He teased, snatching the grocery list off the counter and ducking out of the kitchen as Sonny tossed the pen at him.

As he slid into behind the wheel, Aaron glanced up out of habit to examine his surroundings and caught a face in one of the upstairs windows. Dean looked to be sitting on the inside sill with his forehead pressed against the glass. His eyes were closed until Aaron started the ignition in the SUV, and then they flew open with sudden alertness.

His sensitivity to unexpected noises made Aaron pause for a moment before pulling away down the gravel road. On the ride to the market he outlined the symptoms to watch for in Dean that would point to abuse or neglect. Unexplained injuries, how he interacts with the other boys, if he chose to hide food for later. He didn't know what Dean's home situation was, but it was clear that his father wasn't as attentive as he should be if he refused to come pick up his son after getting arrested. It sounded like another man, Bobby, was sent to care for someone named Sammy, but Aaron wasn't sure how they tied together or why Bobby wouldn't help Dean as well.

As he gathered the groceries from the list Sonny provided, a thought occurred to him. The elderly man behind the counter was dressed in simple tan slacks and a green uniformed collared shirt with a monogrammed apron slung over his clothes. The name "Jack Shaw, Owner" was stitched into the left breast pocket.