Lambs for Slaughter Part 2

Chapter 8

The drive to New York was brutal enough that Dean didn't even complain when Sam offered to take over. After his grip on the wheel began trembling, he reluctantly pulled over to the shoulder and slid across the seat wordlessly while his brother walked around to the driver's side. It was a quiet trip while Dean rested, trying to build up enough energy to survive the next few days. They didn't know much about SHIELD other than the fact that they were a clean up crew, and Hotch wasn't able to give them any information either. It felt wrong to be going into something so important blind, but they didn't have a lot of options to choose from.

A little under forty hours later, they pulled up to the circle drive of the hotel Hotch sent them to. The first thing they noticed was the damn fountain sitting in the center of a cobblestone courtyard, a feature that screamed expensive and way out of their price range. Dean's brow furrowed as he exchanged a confused glance with Sam before climbing out of the car. A kid, who couldn't have been older than twenty-one, dressed in a deep red uniform rushed out to meet them with a gleam of appreciation in his eye when he got a look at the Impala.

"Good evening, Gentlemen. Welcome to the Four Seasons, may I take your bags while you check in? I can give you a valet ticket while I take care of your car."

"There's no way in hell-" Dean started angrily, his hackles raising at the thought of anyone besides Cas or Sammy touching his Baby, but Sam cut him off with a light touch to his arm.

"Just a moment," he told the valet goodnaturedly. "We just need to talk to our friend to make sure we're in the right place."

Judging by the not-so-subtle glance of distaste for their love of flannel, the kid must have been skeptical as well. Part of Dean wanted to sweep the kid's leg out from under him to teach him a lesson in respect, but the more mature, rational part of him wanted to just find Hotch.

As if his thoughts summoned him, Hotch strolled out from behind the automatic double doors wearing his usual black suit and a small smile tugging at his lips. "Dean, Sam, it's good to see you." All of the tension drained from Dean's shoulders as he crashed into his friend, holding on as tight as he could and shoving down the sudden wave of emotion that had his eyes burning. Hotch clapped him on the back before pulling away to hug Sam. Behind him, a familiar face grinned with barely restrained excitement.

"Reid!" Dean gushed, reeling the young doctor in. "I wasn't sure who was coming to the rescue, but I'm glad it was you, buddy."

The tips of Reid's ears burned as he stepped away from Dean to embrace Sam quickly. "I could say the same thing, but..." he hesitated, taking in Dean's appearance. "You look awful."

"Thanks for that," Dean muttered before turning back to the valet who was watching the interaction with a glimmer of interest. "You, I don't want to see so much as a fucking scratch on this Baby, do you hear me? I'll skin you alive if she's in less than perfect condition when I see her next."

"Dean!" Sam chastised, pulling a few dollars out of his wallet and placating the kid who had turned beet red, the coloring matching his uniform quite well.

They decided to take their bags with them instead of leaving them in the car, but Hotch shouldered Dean's own when he moved to pick it up. "I've got it. We'll show you both to your room and then we can meet back in ours to catch up." Dean felt a little embarrassed, but ultimately decided not to argue with Hotch trying to take care of him.

Inside was grander than Dean had ever imagined, and he had to force his jaw back up off the gold-plated tile. The three crystal chandeliers hung low from the ceiling, reflecting off the sleek redwood lining the high walls.