Sammy

2. The Hunter's House

Dean stayed with Benny and his apprentice for two months after the Georgia hunt.  Together, the three of them exorcised, killed, and burned mass amounts of dangerous creatures.  That kid, given the nickname Anakin by Benny,  was pretty helpful too.  Dean did have doubts about him at first, but he soon proved himself worthy of hunting with two infamous hunters.  He could do research like no one else and had a real knack for shooting as well.  "Anakin" started to grow on Benny and Dean a little bit as well, which was why no one was looking forward to when the "loan" was up and they had to return their young partner back to Iowa.

Dean and Benny had just wrapped up a case in New Jersey when Benny got the call saying "Anakin" was due back in a week for a group hunt in Seattle.  The three boys, much to their disappointment, set off a few days later for the corn-riddled state of Iowa.  They enjoyed cheap, greasy food, countless memories from hunts, and music dustier than the photograph of Sam that Dean kept in the corner of his sun visor.  

At first sight, the "Hunter's House" was a large and somewhat promising place.  It had the appearance of a small hotel and had a very friendly atmosphere to it.  If it wan't for the way "Anakin" was trembling, Dean might have questioned why his father didn't take him and Sam here when their mother died.  "You ready?" he asked.

"Not really," Anakin replied.  Dean killed the engine and the three of them stepped out of the car.  Benny went inside to talk to the owner about keeping him a little while longer, but neither he or Dean were too optimistic about that.

Dean pulled Anakin's bags from the trunk and carried them inside for him.  Dean was surprised to see the inside of the establishment matched the outside, but he still doubted the friendly air to it.  There was just an odd feeling to it, like it had something of his.  He shook off the feeling and gave Benny Anakin's belongings while he went to go look around.

There were many chair and table sets, but most of them were empty.  A few young girls sat at one near the back, talking about something in hushed tones.  Across from them, a boy about eight years old was cleaning a gun.  Dean nodded and went up to one of the service desks in the foyer.  It wouldn't hurt to check out another kid, right?  He and Benny could use the help on hunts and he was not ready to leave a bunch of most likely abused kids in a place that they wouldn't be safe.  He let his brother get kidnapped and killed; he wasn't about to give the same fate to who knows who else.

The man at the desk looked uninterested and preoccupied with something on his computer, but Dean asked nonetheless.  "Excuse me, would you happen to know where I can find a kid?"  

"For?" he replied without looking up.

"Bait."  Dean swallowed as he said this.  He didn't want people to think he used innocent children as bait, but it was the only way to ensure he saved at least one life.  Assistants are in danger, but they are expected to be returned in one piece.  Bait, on the other hand, can be replaced at a moment's notice.

"First door on the left," replied the man who still hadn't even looked up.  How many people did it take to ask for bait before he became immune to the question and what it insinuated.  How could he feel secure in the fact that he could be sending multiple children to their deaths every day?

Dean was so lost in thought that he didn't even consider the atrocity inside the room as he entered.  Emaciated girls sat on cots, whispering quietly to another as the ran their fingers through their dull, thin hair.  Some of the girls sat alone reading, and some looked like they could hardly move at all.  All of the light colored girls had skin the color and consistency of paper, like they hadn't seen the light of day in years.  The darker skinned girls looked slightly healthier, but not by much. 

 He walked further into the room, noticing the girls got even more quiet with every step he took.  Dean stared at all of them, wondering what horrors lay behind those dull, yet very slightly hopeful eyes.  All of them looked like they could use an escape, but there was one girl that stood out to him.

At the very end of the row of cots, there was a very small girl who sat completely still, not even batting a long, dark eyelash when Dean continued to stare at her.  "Hello, can I sit here?" She nodded stoically and Dean gently sat down next to her. 

She had pale hands that shone with blue from the slight chill of the room and the thick, raised veins that would have been just barely visible had she been properly cared for.  Her hair was a dark and dull shade of brown that would have probably been envied by every girl in a five mile radius.  Her curls were matted together in a rat's nest and obviously hadn't been brushed for some time.  

"So, what's your name?" Dean asked as an attempt to make conversation.  She still said nothing.  He sighed and got up.  As he walked to the door, the whispers started up again.  He heard brief bursts of gossip about the silent girl and himself right before he left the room.

Dean forced back tears as he made his way to the front desk again.  The man was still typing and uninterested when he came up to do, in his mind, the unthinkable.

"I'd like to buy one of the bait girls."