Kingpin Motel (Supernatural G/T)

Chapter Four

Sam stared out the car window, watching trees, houses, and telephone poles whiz by as Dean drove. And the Borrower in his pocket was very quiet. It made him a little worried, and it was almost like she wasn't there. "Hey, Starla?" He whispered in a gentle tone, very carefully using his hand to nudge his plaid shirt pocket.

Starla looked up into the dark of the pocket, hearing her name called by Sam. Slowly, she grabbed onto the fabric of his soft shirt and lifted herself up until at least her head was poking out in the light. "Y-Yeah Sam?" She responded, staring up into his very large hazel eyes that looked right back, their usual gentle look in them.

"You were quiet, just checking to make sure you're okay." Sam turned his eyes back to the window, again watching the world whiz by. 

"Oh, well...I-I..." Starla's blue eyes looked toward Dean who was focused on the road, but also seemed to be listening in on her and Sam. "I'm okay. It's just that I'm not used to being forced to ride in a pocket. Even in the car, I thought I'd be able to be free but I guess not." 

"I'd rather you be safe than maybe you getting snatched up by some sicko or a demon." Dean cast a quick glance in her direction, forcing himself to push the guilt he began to feel away. 

Starla sadly lowered herself back into the soft pocket, not speaking another word to either of the brothers all the way to the closest diner, which was still a good twenty minutes away. 

Sam felt a little bad about what his brother was saying and doing, after all, she's just glad to see them. When they did pull into the diner's parking lot, he cast a glance at his older brother. "I want a salad, ranch dressing. You pick what you want, and Starla's egg, bacon, and cheese breakfast sandwich." 

Both boys heard a happy squeal from Sam's pocket, and they both chuckled under their breath. "Sure thing Sammy. But aren't you coming in?" Dean asked, taking his keys from the ignition and stuffing them into his old, brown leather jackets pocket. 

"I'm going to stay out here. It might be noisy, and her ears are sensitive. Remember when that truck went by when were outside a long time ago? It hurt her ears and scared her so bad, it took a half hour to calm her down." Sam said with a small smile, feeling a tiny, quick poke in his chest. He could only assume that was Starla attempting to punch him.

"Yeah, good point. That's why you're the one that does the research." Dean stepped out of the driver's side of the Impala, closing the door as carefully as he could without startling the Borrower in Sam's pocket.

Sam watched Dean walk into the small diner, waiting until he could no longer see his older sibling. Once he was sure he was out of sight, he reached into his plaid shirt pocket and removed Starla. "There, fresh air. Well, you know, if you count a car that smells of burger fresh." 

Starla was relieved to be out of the pocket and placed a hand on one of the fingers pinching her delicately by her sides. "It's fine. The detergent scent of your shirt was killing my brain cells anyway." She said with a small giggle, watching the world shift around her as Sam lowered her into an open palm. 

Even though she was older, this hand was far different from the hand of the twelve-year-old boy that had handled her those ten years ago. She could remember how gentle he and Dean had both been. But this hand was far larger, rougher. She was barely the size of his finger. 

"That explains a lot," Sam mumbled teasingly, grinning down at the brown-haired girl. "On a different note, don't mind Dean, okay? He cares about you, it's just his way of showing he cares is being overprotective and bossy. Like our dad. Which I guess is why dad and I never really got along."  

Starla only rolled her eyes at Sam's comment, listening to the rest of what he had to say. Slowly, she nodded her tiny head in understanding. "Yeah. I-It's just, you guys are so different now. It's a little scary but I'll be fine. I'll get used to it and we'll all be okay. Just give me some time. And I care about you guys too. It's so good to see you both again." She doesn't know how many times she's said that now, but she truly meant it. 

Sam again let out a quiet laugh, placing his head against the back of the car seat. "We are aren't we? You're quite different too. Makeshift jeans and an old brown shirt rather than those little dresses you wore when you were little."

"Well, then I had you guys, and shortly before that my mom and dad. I still don't know what happened to them. I don't know if they abandoned me, or got killed by someone or something. Also, it's really hard to go borrowing in a dress. You try climbing when the fabric gets caught on every little ridge of wood." She only added the last part to lighten the mood because she didn't really like talking or even thinking about her parents. It made her chest hurt. Just like how it would hurt when she'd think about Sam and Dean. 

"You've got us again. Dean and I wouldn't let anything happen to you. You trust us right?" He lifted his hand closer to his hazel eyes, trying to get a better look at her face. It was then he noticed several scratches on her left cheek. "What happened there?" He asked in a gentle tone, reaching a fingertip out to touch her scars only to stop a few inches away. Sam sat marveling at the size of his fingertip compared to her face.

"Oh, it's a pretty long story," Starla said with a quiet but nervous laugh, setting her hand on the giant finger that was now very close to her. 

Looking at how many cars were in the parking lot, Sam decided they had enough time before Dean came back out with the food. "It's a pretty long wait for food, so go ahead. Tell away."