At Least They're Talking

Alistair

"Dean!" Sam cried out as the bat fractured his leg. "Help me!"

Dean struggled uselessly against the binds holding him. 

"No one can help you Sammy. Did you actually think you were worth saving?" The man that looked like John, but with black eyes.

--

Dean was startled awake by his butt hitting the ground. Gorggily, he gazed around before realizing that Sam was nowhere to be found. Listening closley, he heard the water start and figured that Sam had just gotten in the shower. 

He shifted his weight to the edge of the semideflated air mattress that he had shared with Sam overnight. When his butt hit the ground for the second time, he realized that when Sam had gotten off of the bed, the same thing had happened, which was why he had woken up. 

Searching through his one of his duffle bags, his hand brushed on the soft, familiar fabric of his favorite flannel overshirt. He randomly chose an undershirt, pulling out a worn, black t-shirt. Lastly, he pulled a pair of faded jeans from the mess of clothes, and headed off to the shower.

"Come on Sammy! All the hot water's gonna be gone! Get a hair cut for Christ's sake!" Dean yelled, pounding on the door.

"I'm almost out Dean! Don't get your panties in a twist!" Sam yelled back, obviously annoyed.

Less than five minutes later, a fully dressed (though somewhat wet) Sam pulled the bathroom door open.

"Fast enough Princess?" Sam asked.

"Barely, bitch." Dean replied.

--

Ten minutes and a lukewarm shower later, Dean emerged from the bathroom dressed in the jeans and the two shirts he had picked out earlier. Walking back to his new room, he picked a pair of socks up from the floor, and after deciding that they were clean, pulled them onto his feet. On his way out of his room, he stuffed his feet down into his favorite biker boots and walked downstairs. 

At the bottom of the stairs, he paused to glance out of the window on the door. Startled, he saw a black car parked next to the Impala. As he watched the car, the back door opened and out stepped a boy with blonde hair. Dean could tell that this mysterious person was slightly taller him, but he looked like he hadn't eaten enough in years.

Continuing into the kitchen, Dean's mind lingered on the boy outside. With a start he remembered that Alistair was coming today, and that was probably who he had seen.

"Mom! I think Alistair and the Social Services people are here." Dean called into the kitchen where he knew Mary and Sam would be. 

"Shit! They said 8:30 why are they here half an hour early?" Mary asked, sounding exasperated. 

She flew to the sink and started to vigorously wash the ceral dishes that had been left there from the quick breakfast that she and Sam had shared. 

"Dean, I know you didn't get to eat yet, but do you think you can wait, at least until they're gone?" Mary asked regretfully.

Nodding, he grabbed a towel from beside the sink and started to dry the dishes as soon as Mary was done washing them. Looking lost, Sam took them from Dean and stuck the now clean bowls in a random cabinet. 

Laughing Mary said, "Between the hospital trip and trying to fix the house up, we didn't exactly have time to decide where things were going to be."

Seeing her oldest son's regretful expression, she pulled him into a hug and told him, "I don't blame you honey. It's not your fault that our house needs work. If anything, I should thank you. Now we know what we need to fix as soon as Alistair settles in and we have time to make this house a home."

Just then, there was a heavy knock on the door. Pulling away, Mary straightened her shirt before walking down the hall towards the door. Sam and Dean stood unsteadily in the kitchen, unsure of what they were supposed to do. They heard murmered voices, and the Mary's contagious laughs. Small smiles fixed on their faces, they followed their mother's path to the door. 

"Boys, this is Alistair. Why don't you show him to his new room upstairs? I'm sure he wants some time to settle in. Have you had breakfast yet?" Mary asked, bouncing from idea to idea faster than Dean thought was possible.

"Yes ma'am. Thank you for the hospitality." Alistair answered in a suprisingly high voice.

Dean and Sam motioned for Alistair to follow them, and set off for the stairs.

"Watch your step here, we just moved in and we haven't had the chance to fix the stairs yet. Trust me, it hurts to fall." Dean asked with a wry smile.

The trio reached the top of the stairs and turned left down the hall. When they had reached the room across from Sam and Dean's at the end of the hall, they stopped.

"Our dad is coming in about a week with the beds and such, but until then we're all on air mattresses. Is that ok?" Sam asked in a hopeful voice.

"Trust me, I've been through way worse. This'll be perfect." Alistair answered, opening the door.

The room was a little on the small side, but it was still bigger than any room Alistair had ever lived in. It had a peaked ceiling, with two small windows set into the wall. Walking towards them, Alistair noticed that from the windows he could see out to the road. Glad that he could always know who was coming, he turned around. 

"This is perfect. Thank you so much." 

Dean and Sam shifted from foot to foot awkwardly before Sam said, "It's no problem, really. It's just a room."

If only he knew some of the rooms that I had lived with, or how many times I've lived without even a house, Alistair thought.

"Well, we'll leave you to it. If you need anything, we're right downstairs." Dean said as he turned his back on the teenager.

When Sam turned to leave, he could have sworn he had heard a small "thank you" from the boy.