Chapter Five
5.)Chapter Five
Once he makes it back to the Forbes household, it takes him a while to figure out how to go in unnoticed. In the end, he chooses to go through the front door, despite initial intentions to return through the window. The cruiser is still gone and the last he’d seen of Roger, the man had passed out on the couch.
He dashes up the stairs, bag in hand as he makes his way to their designated room but his heart stops when Dean finds the guest room is empty. There is no bratty little Caroline (not that he’d expected her to listen to him) and there is no sulking Sam and Dean has to take a moment and remind himself to breathe as he tries to think where his brother would have gone.
“Sam!” Dean whirls around, the name growled between his teeth as he storms out of the room and back into the hallway. “Sam!” He doesn’t care if Roger will wake up, doesn’t think about the trouble it’d get him into. All he knows in that moment is that his brother is missing and if he gets hurt - well it wasn’t happening. Again. Ever.
“Sammy!” Dean shoves through room after room until he spots them out the kitchen window. He swears, loudly, jerking the door open as he makes his way to the backyard. He stops inches away from his brother, watching as Caroline sticks her hand in the dirt.
“What are you doing?” The words sound forced.
“We’re building a fairy home!” Caroline informs him without looking up from her work. Dean blinks at her, the previous panic - and rising anger - giving away to confusion. “What?”
“A fairie home,” Caroline repeats. “Sam said they like dirt.” She wrinkles her nose, “It’s gross.”
A look a Sam gives Dean a picture-perfect face of guilt. It’s a money-maker, and while other people would fall for the act, Dean was not budging. “She was crying.”
Dean only shakes his head. “If I get in trouble,” he says in a huff, “I’m blaming you.” Sam only snorts at the empty threat.
“Why would you get in trouble?” Sam asks, “You didn’t get caught, did you?”
Dean’s look must have said something, because Sam laughs. Dean ignores his brother, turning to Caroline instead. “Come on,” he says, “We should get inside. It’s cold.” He glances up, surprised to see that it was already dark.
The girl gives a pout. “But I want to make the fairy home!”
“Sam’ll work on it with you tomorrow,” Dean offers his hand and gives the girl his most winning smile. She stares at it for a moment, then looks up at him contemplatively. Dean doesn’t like it, she’s like five, and it’s like she can read his lie.
“There’s a cookie eating contest involved.”
Caroline perks up, turning back into a typical five year old as she ignores his hand to help herself up instead. “Mommy doesn’t like cookies.” She says, rocking back on her heels. Dean rolls his eyes, and reaches for both his brother and Caroline.
“So? She’s not here, is she?”
“Dean -”
“Shut it, Sammy.”
He drags both kids into the house without another word, the door swinging shut behind them.
Dad still hasn’t called by the time the third day approaches. The fact that they were on their own more often than not numbed him to the worry. Now, the fact that they were left in the care of strangers, that worry festers from stupid kid shit to legitimacy. Dad always called, no matter where they are, no matter who they’re with. Yet now, three days and there is nothing.
Dean clutches the phone to his ear, listening to his fathers voice on the message machine. This of course, is nothing new. Dad tends to go underground, deep, deep underground where nothing can touch him. Its why he calls every day instead of making Dean check in himself.
Sam is in the other side of the room, glancing at him sideways and playing with Caroline at the same time. Dean can’t catch what Sam is saying, because it’s all very hush, hush after the storm her parents left behind the night before. Dean doesn’t blame Liz for yelling, though. He would too, if the man who was supposed to be responsible for children had passed out on the couch instead. Sam has other ideas, though, and Dean hates the way he looks at Caroline - like there is something familiar about her.
He grunts into the phone, shoving it into the receiver. Dad doesn’t answer, not that it is any kind of surprise. He leans against the wall, sighing as he runs a hand through his hair. The room is quiet, suddenly, and Sam is peering at him with these goddamned hopeful eyes. It forces Dean to pick the phone up and dial the number a second time.
“Not answering, huh?” Sam says sagely, walking towards him. Dean glances at him, jaw clenched as he mutters into the phone. “Shut up, Sammy.”
Caroline is right behind Sam, rocking back on her heels as she clutches at the back of his shirt. Her cheek is pressed against his side as she stares at him suspiciously. Dean scowls at her, and she hides further behind Sam.
“Caroline and me were thinking about playing outside.” Sam says, ignoring Dean’s bad mood.
Dean slams the phone into the receiver again, and it bangs at the wall, falling to the side. Grunting, Dean tries a second time, shoving instead of slamming. He looks at Sam, loosening the jaw in an effort to keep the anger from his brother.
“Fine.” He mutters, letting his fists fall to the side. “I’ll try again later.”
Sams smile is all-knowing and irritating and it makes Dean grunt. He turns his back on his brother, the first to weave through the kitchen and out the back door.
Liz Forbes greets them when they return indoors at the sound of a grumbling car. Caroline is a mess of dirt and grime but she is all smiles. She’s the first in the house this time, a bounce in her step and tugging Sam along with her. Dean trials behind them, shutting the door with a kick of his foot on the way in. The silence that follows is abrupt but nothing short of expected.
Liz sets her gun on the counter, a tired smile accompanying equally tired eyes. Dean knows the look, but he can’t quite bring himself to care. He stops just behind Sam and Caroline. His brother leans against him, just slightly so it’s barely noticeable. It drags Caroline to the other side, though and Dean wonders, idly, when he became the go-to man.
“Hey,” He offers awkwardly. Liz looks at the three of them, covered in dirt and grime and grass stains on their pants and dresses. The smile twitches at her lips, a snort covering the laughter.
“Hey yourself. You guys having fun?” The smile leaks into her question and the tension in the room seems to ease.
Dean shrugs it off. “Just kids stuff,” he says, “They wanted to hang outside. Build doll houses -”
“Fairy!” Caroline interrupts his explanation with the correction. “Sam says that they like dirt and stuff, and we were making it in case they want to move in. They travel too! They’re like people only smaller!”
“Is that so?” Liz sounds vaguely amused. Dean has the idea that this is the sort of thing Caroline does a lot. Fairies, Barbie’s, and My Little Pony tends to go hand in hand. At least, as far as he’s concerned. Three days here, and, though he won’t admit it, he can tell you Ken and Barbie’s every arch from beginning to end. He’s left Sam to do the actual pretend part, but he’s always close enough to hear - and laugh at - the details.
Caroline gives an enthusiastic nod and finally detaches herself from Sam to grab at her mothers hand. “Come look!” She insists, tugging her mother towards the door. The woman remains immobile. “Maybe later, Caroline. Why don’t you help me figure out what’s for dinner instead?”
Caroline pouts. “Daddy said he was going to cook tonight. There was cake!”
“Dad’s going to be late tonight.” Liz explains gently, glancing at Dean. He, in turn, shifts uncomfortably. After the night before, he can’t believe that the man would come back at all.
“Besides, I think we need a little less sweets in our lives.” Liz says, pulling Caroline up and holding her close.
“No way!” Caroline protests, slinging small hands around her mothers neck. “Cake is the best!” She says, as if that explains everything. Dean snorts, shaking his head.
“That would be pie, princess.”
Caroline crains her neck to glare at Dean. “Daddy wanted cake.”
“He’s not here.” Dean snips.
“How about we do salad tonight, and go out for ice-cream afterwards?” Liz suggests, intertwining Caroline’s fingers into hers in an attempt at distraction. Caroline pouts, sulking in her mothers arms.
“I’m good with that.” Sam says, offering Caroline (and, Dean suspects, Liz) a helpful smile.
“Okay.” Caroline says reluctantly, “If you say so but if daddy gets angry, I’m blaming you!” She points the accusing finger directly at Dean. He glares at her in return. “I didn’t do anything!” He defends.
“Alright,” Liz says before Caroline can push anymore buttons. “who wants to help with the lettuce?”
The next day, Dean is woken from the smell of burnt batter. It’s an unfamiliar, unpleasant odor and he groans in his sleep before he remembers what it means. It’s a second before his mind gets in gear and he jerks awake. Still clad in only his boxers, Dean storms down the stairs.
He was only four at the time, but he still has memories. They’re vague, sure but Dean remembers holding his brother in his arms, he remembers the wailing sirens and the panic in his dads voice. Heart pounding, Dean skids to a stop letting out a breath only as he spots the source.
Everything clears in that moment, and Dean realizes that there had been no smoke in the first place. Just that really, really, nasty burned-food smell. Dean wrinkles his nose as Liz emerges from the kitchen, a tray of black clutched in mitten hands. Dean shakes his head at his own paranoia.
She carefully sets the burning tray in the sink with a mutter. “This is why Roger does all the cooking.”
“Huh?” Dean asks.
Liz finally spots him. It’s early enough that she’s in her own pair of robes, though she wears shorts and a t-shirt. Her hair is a mess of blonde as she offers him a smile. “Don’t worry about it.” She says in what Dean assumes is her soothing voice. She reaches above the kitchen sink, pulling out a cereal box. “We’ll just have to make do with cereal.”
Dean ventures into the kitchen. “Cereal’s good.” He says.
“It can be.” She says, though she frowns at it like she doesn’t agree.
“It is.” he insists, “Lucky charms is Sam’s favorite.” Luckily, that is exactly what the box says. Liz is still frowning at it.
“It can’t be healthy.” She sighs.
Dean grins. “That’s why its good.”
She gives him an unamused look. Dean conveniently spots the coffee maker and makes his way too it. “I’ll make the coffee.”
Liz sighs again. “You do that.” She mumbles, crossing over to the island counter. “First, you might want to get dressed before Caroline wakes up.”
Dean blushes, pausing mid-step. He doesn’t need to look down to know that he’s barely decent and it makes his face redder as he dashes out the room.
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