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The First Hunt
Member No.: 989
Joined: 31-December 05
I know that several of you are still waiting for an update on Camp Sunshine but for some reason writers block is hitting hard, so I decided I would get the next chapter of this story up. I hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: Still don't own.
The life of a hunter was never easy. They didn't get thanked, they weren't appreciated, and they certainly were not paid. They had to resort to credit card fraud or hustling just to have enough money to eat.
They had to do things that weren't necessarily legal. Grave desecration was illegal in all 51 states, killing a werewolf or any shape shifter just made it look like you shot someone in cold blood, or you had to do some breaking and entering.
With so much potential to end up on the wrong side of the law, the Winchester's hadn't been caught yet. Sure there had been some close calls but his dad was the best. Dean had seen his father talk himself out of speeding tickets, getting caught in cemetaries, and some other nasty situations. He often employed those techniques when he was trying to get out of dentention or explain why his homework wasn't done.
He knew he was a good hunter and it was the one area where he had complete confidence in his abilities. So, why this job was making him so jumpy? He could deal with a spirit. This one should be no trouble. He didn't even have to salt and burn it, which was always dangerous, as even spirits didn't want to be wasted. All he had to do was listen to it tell him where it was buried.
Yet, he could both feel and hear his heart thumping loudly and he wondered it it was going to beat itself righout out of his chest. He knew that it was the unknown that was causing his anxiety. Demon's he got. People were just crazy. On this job he's be surrounded by people that he didn't know. Jefferson had said that he was the head of the unit Dean would be on, but he was only one person and Dean knew that he wasn't going to be there 24/7. For the most part Dean would be on his own.
That scared him more than anything. His dad had promised to visit every day but what would happen if his father got a lead on a job? Would he leave him in juvie and come back when his sentence was done? What would happen to Sammy?
He was what Dean was most worried about. Since the night of the fire it was Dean's job to look after his brother, make sure he was safe. He took that responsibility very seriously. If his dad took off, who would look out for the kid? Would his dad leave his brother in the hotel room by himself like he did when Dean was younger?
"Kid, you okay?" a voice suddenly cut into Dean's thoughts.
"I'm fine," Dean said and he heard the distinct wheeze in his voice and a familar tightness spreading across his chest. Calm, the hell, down Dean, he admonished himself.
He hated having asthma. It seemed his was mostly tied to his emotions. Inhalers were expensive and money was tight, so Dean was often able to talk himself out of an asthma attack, or at least that's what he told himself, by keeping calm, and trying to take deep breathes. The problem was that he could also talk himself into having an asthma attack by thinking in circles. He had to stop this train of though because he sure as hell wasn't giving Officer Dooright the satisfation of asking for his inhaler. The officer had confiscated it when he'd arrested Dean. Not to mention that it wouldn't do any good if he still had it. His hands were cuffed behind his back. He hated feeling this out of control and it was why his asthma was acting up.
"Alright, kid," the officer addressed Dean as he unlocked Dean's right wrist from the cuff. "Sit," he instructed firmly, pointing to a chair next to his desk. Dean complied and much to his dismay the officer took his left hand, which still had the handcuff around it and clicked the the empty cuff to a hole in the corner of his desk. Dean gave a half-hearted tug. It wasn't going anywhere. Technically he could dislocate his thumb and get out of them, or he could swipe a paperclip but he figured that getting caught trying to escape was not exactly going to help his case.
"I'm going to call your parents. Is there anything you want to say before I do?"
"No," Dean said with a shrug trying to appear tough and that he didn't care.
The officer opened Dean's wallet and got his contract information and Dean listened as the cop called his father and told him that his son had been caught driving a car that had been reported stolen. "Your father's coming," the officer told him.
"Swell," Dean muttered non-chanlantly and gave a little shug.
"Look, kid, I suggest you lose the attitude. Being uncooperative can just get you in more trouble and believe me when I tell you, you're in enough as it is."
The sarcastic comment Dean had been about to comeback with died on his lips. His dad had promised that he wouldn't have to do longer than 2 months. Could smart-mouthing the cops get that extended? It was going to be tough enough being separated from his family for that long. The only time he wasn't with his dad and brother was if he was in the hospital.
"What no comment?" The officer taunted.
"If I said I was sorry, can we just chalk this up to a big misunderstanding and we can get out of each other's hair?" Dean asked and put on his must charming, innocent smile. He hoped this was a good compromise between being a smart alec and not dropping the act altogther. He did have an image to maintain afterall.
"Should have thought of that before you hotwired that car," the officer replied.
"I told you, I just misplaced my key," Dean protested.
"Kid, I'm not going to tell you again about being a smart ass," the officer said. "I'll be right back. Don't move."
"Where am I going to go?" Dean asked as he lifted his cuffed left hand. "Unless you want to leave me your key."
"One more word, and I'll handcuff both," the officer replied.
Not wanting his hands cuffed again, wisely kept his mouth shut. He watched as the officer got up and went over to the filing cabinet and grabbed some forms. The officer returned to his desk and started to fill out the paperwork.
Sitting still was not something Dean did well, under any circumstance and after 5 minutes he was getting bored. "Excuse me," Dean said trying to get the officers attention. "I gotta go to the bathroom."
"Hold it," the officer replied, with a long suffering sigh.
"Is that legal? 'Cause I'm not sure it is. I mean you wouldn't want to lose this case on a technicality would you? I can see the headline now, Officer Dudley Dooright refused to let a kid use use the toilet. How would that help your ca..."
Dean shut up when the officer glared at him. If looks could kill, Dean would have dropped dead on the spot. "Kid, if you call me Dooright one more time, I'm going to stick you in the holding cell. We clear on that? My name if Officer Douglas Dooley, and you'll give me the respect I deserve."
Dean just stared at him and bit down on his tounge, trying to keep a sarcastic comment from escaping. That was just begging for one but his dad would kill him if he got into more trouble than he was already in. As many times as he was able to talk himself out of trouble he had just as many examples where his mouth got him into trouble. "No, sir," Dean said with as much false politeness as he could muster. "But I still need to use the washroom."
Acting very put upon, Officer Dooley got out his key and undid the cuff that was attached to the desk and montioned for Dean's other arm. The young hunter let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding he cuffed his hands in front. He signaled to another officer and asked him to take Dean to the washroom.
When he got back, he's really wished he's kept his mouth shut. The cop who escorted him must have bathed in cologne and it was really irritating Dean's sensitive lungs and he could feel the tightness speading across his whole chest. When he was handcuffed back to the desk, the coughing started and it seemed the more Dean tried to get it under control the worse it got.
"Kid, you okay?" Officer Dooley asked when Dean seemed to be getting worse. He may not have like teenagers but he wasn't insenstive and the kid looked like he was really struggling.
Cough! Cough! "I'm.." wheeze! "Goo..cough...Good."
Officer Dooley reached over to the bag that he had put Dean's possessions in after he had arrested him. He remembered seeing the the inhaler in there. He pulled it out and offered to the kid. "Need this?"
Dean looked up and saw that the officer holding out his inhaler. He wanted to refuse it, didn't want to give this guy the satfisfaction but he knew he only make things worse in the long run. He grabbed it from the officers outstretched hand, shook it and inhaled the bitter tasting medicine. He was relived when he felt his chest start to loosen.
"DEAN MICHAEL WESTCHESTER!!!" A loud voice could suddenly be heard thoughout the whole squad room.
Dean turned and saw his dad standing in the doorway. He was extremely grateful that his dad hadn't come in when he was in the middle of his asthma attack. If there was one thing he he hated it was looking weak in front of the his dad. Dean had already convinced himself that his dad was questioning wheter or not he could handle this job because he kept asking him if he wanted to back out. He knew his father was testing him and he was determined to make sure sure he passed. It didn't matter what he had to do.
He swallowed a little nervously as he watched his father make his way over to him. He didn't think he'd ever seen his dad this mad. His face was almost purple, the vein in his forhead was throbbing, and Dean really thought it was about to burst. He knew it was an act, though, but his father just looked so convicing, Dean started to wonder if there wasn't some truth to it, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out why his dad would acutally be mad at him. Was there some other test to his job that Dean didn't know about. Had he screwed up already?
The young hunter tried not to cringe as his father reached him. He felt his father grab his uncuffed arm, a little to tight and he had to force himself to look at his father. This was all an act, right? Dean tried not to flinch when his father unleashed some of that anger at his son.
"What the hell are you doing?" he growled.
"John Winchester? I'm Officer Dooley, I pulled your son over because he was speeding and driving eradically. When I ran the plates, the car was reported stolen," The officer replied. He wanted to stop John's tirade before it got started. He knew from experience they could go on for awhile.
"Stolen, God damnit, Dean. You promised. You said you weren't going to do this anymore."
"It was a big misunderstanding," Dean protested. "I misplaced my key."
"You want me to believe that accidently mistook a ford tarus for a Chevy Impala?" John asked sarcastically. "Do I look that naive or are you just that stupid?" He added unthinkingly. He wanted to take the words back when Dean looked like he'd been slapped.
His son was very intelligent but school was always last on his priority list and his grades reflected that. His teacher from his last school wanted him put on extra tutoring and it had shaken his confidence. John suspected that was why had been so eager to help with this hunt.
It was what was worrying John the most. That Dean didn't really want to do this hunt but he felt the need to prove himself. John had truely meant it when he said that he would understand if his son said no. It was why he was constantly asking Dean if he wanted to back out.
The young hunter quickly buried his emotions and he decided to go with the flow. It wasn't often he could backtalk to his father without repercussions. "Thats what your really mad at isn't it?" Dean said flippantly. "That I drove a Ford?"
"Enough, Dean Michael," John replied trying to keep his pretend anger in check. Dean's remark had almost caused him to chuckle. "You're in some serious trouble young man. You stole a car. A Car! No judge is going to let you off with a slap on this wrist this time. I don't know whats gotten into you. If you're trying to show off to impress those so-called friends of yours, you're failing miserably, because no one give a damn. Are these friends going to stand behind you when you go to court? Are they going to come visit you in prision? You promised me you were going to knock this crap off. How am I supposed to trust you? I am so disappointed in you right now."
"I said I was sorry," Dean shot back half-heartedly. The fun of back-talking had ended as fast as it started. Dean was seriously questioning wether his father was acting. But this had been the plan? He was supposed to have gotten caught.
"Well, sorry's not going to cut it, is it?" John turned back to the officer. "What happens now?"
"He'll be taken to central booking for mug shots and fingerprints. Then he'll be taken to the holding cell until his bail hearing. The process is going to take about 3 or 4 hours. It might be tomorrow before he can see the judge. The owner wants to press charges."
"What punishment are we looking at?" John asked, the worry in his tone real.
"It's tough to say. You mentioned prior convictions where he was caught stealing?"
"Shoplifting. 3 times."
"If I had to guess, I'd say he's going to to some time. How much depends on the judge, and his attitude," Officer Dooley said emphasizing his last word and glaring directly at Dean.
"Yes sir, I'll behave sir," Dean replied with mock sincereity.
"Dean, knock it off," John thundered. He wasn't really mad at Dean. He was worried and when he was worried it came across as anger. His son knew the difference, right? He began to wonder if he might be laying it on too thick. Travis had warned him about that. He didn't want the officers to think that Dean was incorrigilbe or that he didn't want him home. What if this officer testifed that Dean did have a bad attitude, would that get him a longer sentence? His doubts about this whole hunt were once again front and center. He was really wishing he hadn't agreed to this whole thing. There was so many things that were beyond their control. He was interupted out of his thought was he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"It's okay, dad," Dean said softly, indicating that he understood.
"It's not," John replied, feeling ashamed that Dean had to try and make him feel better. He gave Dean a subtle nod and continued, hoping he was doing the right thing. He was about to bring up a sore spot but he wanted to try and create some sympathy for his eldest. The officer looked like he wanted to lock Dean up and throw away the key. "I know that things haven't been easy for you, what with your mothers death, its just this behaviour has to stop."
"It's just..." Dean wasn't sure what to say. The mention of his mother had thrown himself for a loop. This must have been his fathers way of saying 'smarten up.' He always tried to be brave for his mom, and he wasn't going to let this hunt stop him from doing just that, no matter how nervous he was.
"We'll talk more later. You need to do everything this officer says," John cautioned.
"Yes sir," Dean replied, the respect sincere this time. He would never want to disappoint his mom.
John watched as Dean was lead away. He'd be damned if Dean was spending the night at this police station. He pulled out his cell phone. "I need to talk to Jefferson Gage, NOW!" he growled at the poor man who picked up the phone.
John had no idea how Jefferson had done it, but Dean went right from being photographed and printed to the judge where he was released into his fathers custody on $2000 bail. Jefferson had taken care of it and Dean was in the car with his father on the way home.
"Where's Sam?" Dean asked as he swiped at his fingers with a kleenex. The fingerprint ink was still all over his hands.
"He's okay," John replied answering Dean's unspoken question. "He was on the computer.
"Better make sure it's not hidden in his duffle when we move," Dean joked.
"I better check your's for the TV," John shot back.
"I'm going to miss that TV. Maybe you can bake it into a cake," Dean said a little whisfully.
"Are you sure that you want..."
"Yes," Dean cut his father off sharply and sounding very irritated. "I can do this," he insisted. "You don't need to keep asking me that. I'm not a little kid anymore."
"I know that," John replied. He did, but no matter how old his sons got, they would always be his baby boys.
"Is Sam still mad?" Dean asked a little tentatively. Sam had barely spoken to either of them, these last couple of weeks and if he did it usually resulted in a fight. Dean had to admit that he had been avoiding Sam as well. Dean hated fighting with this brother.
"I don't think he's mad, son," John replied. "He's just worried about you, and I think he's going to miss you."
"He doesn't have to be worried about me?" Dean said firmly. "Jefferson's going to be there, he'll make sure nothing happens. Plus, you and Sam are going to visit everyday, right?' He added hesistantly.
"Yeah, kiddo," John confirmed. Like John asking Dean if he wanted to go through with this everytime they talked about the case, Dean always wanted confirmation that his father was would visit. For the life of him, John couldn't figure out why Dean was acting so clingy. It wasn't like him. Dean was usually so confidant. He guessed that Dean was a little nervous and he didn't blame him. John would be too. Once again John found himself questioning whether or not he was doing the right thing. Right now he was fighting the temptation to throw Sam in the car and get the hell out of town. He knew if he did that, then Dean was going to think his father didn't trust him. His son was the only one that could pull the plug on this whole operation now. "You want pizza?" John asked through gritted teeth. He wanted to change the subject.
"Sure," Dean agreed. "When do I go?" He asked, not reading his fathers tone.
"You have a hearing in about a month but Travis is going to arrange a meeting with the prosecutor and arrange a plea bargin. So it will probably be sooner than that, but I say about 2 weeks." He had to bit his tounge to remind Dean that he could pull the plug anytime he wanted to.
"I can handle it," Dean replied with a confidence he didn't feel.
"I know kiddo. You know how proud of you I am. This is a big job and I know you're going to do great son. I just need you to promise me one thing, Dean."
"I'll be careful dad," Dean guessed.
"It's not that. I don't want your asthma getting unstable. Officer Dooley told me you needed to use your inhaler. I want you taking your meds on time. No palming pills or pretending to take a puff from your inhaler. I know all your tricks, Dean," John added when Dean's face adopted the scowl it always did when some mentioned his asthma. "If you're having trouble don't hid it. Tell Jefferson or one of the other guards. This isn't negociable. If I find any evidence you're not looking after you're self, I'll stop this whole thing so fast your head will spin. The last time, you almost ended up on a vent, and I won't go through that, or let you go throught that again. Am I making myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," Dean mumbled. He was worried about his asthma. He knew that others inmates might see it as a weakness One thing Dean learned from prision movies was that you couldn't appear weak for any reason. "I got it."
"I mean it, Dean," John said forcibly.
"Fine," Dean huffed. "I'll talk to Sammy when I get home. He'll come around," Dean replied wondering if he was trying to convince his father or himself.
The youngest Winchester had been spending his days on the computer. He wasn't just looking up random stuff, he was trying to find out any information he could about juvenile hall.
One of the first rules about hunting was that you didn't go into a situation blind, it was a good way to get yourself or others killed.
The problem was this was a rule that his father often neglected. He operated on a need to know basis. There was time when they were hunting a spirit. Their father had been convinced he had the right one, but he'd failed to mention that the man had a twin. They had dug up and salted and burned the bones of one man, but the twin had shown up. Dean had ended up with a concussion.
Sam was getting sick of Dean getting hurt because of his father's mistakes. This job had all the makings of being a complete diaster. It just wasn't because of his fathers need to know rule. The problem was that none of them knew anything about what Dean would be facing from the other inmates. Sure Jefferson could tell Dean want to expect but he couldn't predict what the other boys would do.
His father's friend had tried to explain that Dean would be on a unit that housed boys that were in juvie for the first time, for non-violent crimes but that still didn't guaruntee Dean's saftey.
He also shared his dad's concern about Dean's asthma. He wasn't a co-operative patient under the best of circumstances.
With all his heart, Sam believed the only reason Dean was doing this job because he thought his father was testing him. He had tried to make Dean see reason but the more he protested the more Dean dug in his heels.
So Sam put his research skills to help Dean any way he could. The problem was that he frustrated at ever turn. He couldn't find much on Juvenile Hall. Just contract information. He couldn't exactly call them.
Another part of it was that Sam was going to miss Dean. Sure his dad said they would see him everyday but it just wouldn't be the same. Sam doubted his father's ability to keep that promise but it was one he was bound and determined that his father was going to keep. He didn't care what he had to do to make sure his father honored that promise.
He heard the car pull into the driveway. He was relieved when Dean got out of the car along with their dad. He turned off the computer and went to go met them. He was determined to spend as much time with this brother as he could. He didn't want Dean thinking he was mad at him.
"Hey Dean," Sam greeted his brother as the two stepped into the kitchen and John went to go order pizza. "Did everything.."
"Yeah, Sam," Dean intrupted. "Everything went fine, nothing to it."
"Are you sure..."
"Sam, don't please. I told you its my decision to take this job. I'll be fine."
"I know Dean," Sam said contritely. "It's just that...I mean how would you feel if Dad asked me to do this job?"
"You wouldn't," Dean said firmly. He was so not going there. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. Now, go make use of your computer skills and find out how I can get this ink off my fingers." Dean held his hands up and Sam could see the finger print ink that still coated them.
"Maybe you should leave it," Sam teased, "Then I'll know if you touched my stuff when I told you not too." Letting Dean change the subject. He knew if he pushed Dean would clam up. Sam had been arguing with his brother more then usual and he didn't want to start anything.
"Hey, Sammy, it might still be wet," Dean replied as he chased Sam down the hall.
Travis Montgomery walked down the hall toward the prosecutors office. He had managed to set up an appointment with the county Prosectuor, Alan Wiseman, to discuss a plea bargin in the Westchester case.
Alan was a good guy and easy to talk to and Travis was confidant that he wouldn't have a problem getting the 60 days they were looking for. With Dean's history of losing his mother, and the back story of him just falling in with the wrong crowd, Alan would have no interest in keeping Dean locked up for long. Alan firmly believed in rehabilitation, and letting a kid move on with their life, and that the longer someone was locked up the more likely there were to stay that way. He had a theory that you learned more about crime in prison than you could anywhere. Alan would see Dean's crime as victimless and he would have no problem dropping Dean's charge from grand theft auto to joyriding.
The only thing that could go wrong was if Travis had to deal with Jake Cooper. Jake was the assistant district attorney and was gunning for Alan's job. He has designs on a polictical career and took a hard stance on crime, particulary crimes committed by juveniles.
Travis knocked on the door.
"It's open," a voice called.
"Hey Al.." The greeting died on his lips when he realized that Jake was sitting behind Alan's desk. "Good morning, Jake," he quickly corrected. Where the hell was Alan?
"Morning, Travis," Jake returned the greeting.
"He had to go out of town for the next few days. His daughter went into labour, and he's gone to go meet his new grandson."
"Tell him, I said congratulations," Travis said outloud as inside he was cursing. "We can postpone this meeting if you busy?" I hope. If he had to deal with Jake, things were not going to go well.
"No, it's fine. I'm filling in for Alan. You're hear to discuss a plea bargin for..." Jake paused as he picked up a folder from his desk and opened it. "Dean Westchester. Charged with grand theft auto."
"Yeah," Travis agreed as he took a seat. "I think we can save the tax payers some money. Kid pleads guilty to joyriding and we get this case off the books."
"I don't know," Jake said hesistantly. "This Westchester kid stole a car. It's not his first offense either. He had three previous convictions for shoplifting and now he steals a car. He's escalating and I think we need to send a message."
"Come on, Jake. It's not like he knocked off a liquor store at gun point. He took a car and drove around. He claims he was going to return it," Travis countered. So far this was going as bad as he thought. Jake was determined to play hardball.
"We all know he can trust his word don't we. According to officers in the squad room, the kid has a problem with authority figures and even his father didn't trust him."
Travis cursed under his breath. He had told John not to lay it on too thick when he was in front of the officers. Oh well, maybe Jefferson could use it to stop John from killing him when he told him Dean's sentence. Travis was supposed to call John when he was done here and he knew, without a doubt that he wasn't walking out of this office with 2 months. He'd be lucky if it was under two years. There was no way he was breaking that news to John Winchester. This hunt was Jefferson's idea, and Jefferson could deal with Johns' wrath.
"He's a kid," Travis protested. "He fell in with the wrong crowd. He pleads guilty to joyriding, suspended sentence, 6 months probation, 300 hours community service," Travis offered delibertly starting low.
"No way," Jake said firmly and immediately as Travis had known he would. "The judge in his last hearing told him, if he gets caught stealing again he does time. I'm not giving him a slap on the wrist, we need to send a message that this kind of thing will not be tolerated. 5 years."
"You're kidding right?" Travis scoffed. "He didn't hurt.."
"There's no such thing as a victimless crime. What about the rights of the guy that had his car stolen. He could have had an emergency or needed to get some where in a hurry," Jake countered.
"He didn't. We can't punish this kid for something that might have happened. Besides, Dean is 16. You give him 5 years he does the last 3 in the county jail. I don't think he needs to exposed to that."
"We could just try him as an adult and let him do his full sentence there," Jake reminded the man in front of him. "That would be a strong deterent, I think."
"Do we really need to ruin this kids life? He made some mistakes, I mean he lost his mother.."
"That excuses his behaviour?" Jake scoffed.
"Fine, he does time," Travis conceded. "10 days. We scare him straight."
"You're kidding right?" Jake asked incredously. "I'll go 3 years."
"Now you're the one whose hilarious. 3 years he still does his last year at county. If you want the kid to really learn how to steal a car, expose him to that. Besides, I doubt this kid would last a day at there. 30 days."
"Too light. I'll give you 18 months. He'll be released before he turns 18."
"Come on," Travis pleaded. "60 days."
"I'll give you a year," Jake offered. "Consider that a gift. I'm going to get coffee. When I get back I want an answer. Turn that down we go to trial and I charge him with grand theft auto and go for the maximum."
Travis watched as Jake got up and left the office. He knew that he was going to have no choice but to agree. When Jake returned, Travis gave him the affirmative decision. A formal sentencing hearing was set up for 5 days, where Dean would enter an official plea of guilty. Travis wondered if he could get into the witness protection program by then, but he doubted that even that would keep him safe from John Winchester.
Jefferson sat at his desk doing his end of shift paper work. He was waiting for Travis's call.
"Hello," Jefferson greeted.
"Hey, Jeff, it's me?" Travis returned the greeting, sounding grim.
The prison guard picked up on it right away. "What's wrong?" he asked, his apprehension growing.
"Alan's daughter choose last night to go into labour. Jake's filling in for him until he gets back."
"What's the damage?" Jefferson asked nervously. He was familar with Jake's reputation.
"I did the best I could," Travis informed his friend. "Dean's looking at a year."
"What did John say?"
"You're dealing with that one."
Jefferson rubbed his brow where he could feel a headache builing. "Thanks, for trying. I'll give John a call." He was so not looking forward to this.
It was a good half hour before Jefferson had the nerve to dial the number to his brother's house. He prayed with everything he had that John wasn't home but when his friend's gravely voice answered before the phone had rang once, Jefferson guess that he was sitting by the phone.
"Hey, John, it's Jeff."
"I thought Travis was going to call?" John asked in confusion. A cold feeling began growing in the pit of his stomach. He has feeling that something had gone wrong, otherwise, why was Jefferson calling him.
"He just called me. There's something you need to know."
"What the hell is going on?" John growled.
"The normal prosecutor was out of town. You have to understand, Travis did the best he could."
"Jeff," John said warningly. "How much time did he get?"
"A year," Jefferson said cringing.
"A YEAR!!!!" John's voice thundered through the phone. Jefferson could have heard him without the phone. "Forget it, this whole things done. I won't do that to Dean."
"John, please, kids..."
"Don't you dare," John threatened.
"We'll get him out," Jeffeson said desparately.
"I'll figure it out," he promised.
"I'm not sending my son in there with 'I'll figure it out.' You have 24 hours to figure this out." With that John slammed the phone down.
"Hey dad, was that Travis?"
John looked up and saw his boys coming into the house. How was he going to break this news to his sons. He was more worried about Sam. His youngest was sure to go ballistic.
A/N: I know nothing about how the legal system works so I took liberaties, if anyone is familar I hope they forgive any glaring inaccuracies.
Please remember to review. It makes my day.
Member No.: 989
Joined: 31-December 05
Thanks for the reviews everyone. I hope you like this chapter.
Disclaimer: Still Don't own.
There were many things about the hunting lifestyle that Sam hated. He hated that everytime his dad went out that door there was a possibility that he may not come back. Despite that fact that he and his father were fighting with increasing frequency he still loved him and didn't want anything to happen to his father. He understood he wasn't the only kid to go through that. Kids whose parents were cops, firefighters, or Military faced what he did. Hell, even someone whose father worked in a library could get hurt, if there was an accident.
What made it worse, in Sam's mind, was that if something happened to John they most likely would never know about it. Hunting took place in the shadows. John could simply disappear and no one would ever know who he was because he carried fake id's. It didn't help that his father rarely came home when he said he would or was terrible about keeping in touch. He knew that Dean worried about it just as much, if not more, than he did. It was up to Dean to keep things running. He had to manage the money, the food, try to make sure they kept a low profile, stay off social services radar, and keep them out of trouble. If anything went wrong, Dean got the blame for it.
It killed Sam that he could recall so many times when Dean hadn't slept because he was up all night worrying about why their father was late and trying to convince he younger brother that Dad was coming home.
Worse was when Dean's asthma flaired up. He been afraid to use his inhaler because it if ran out there was no money to replace it, unless they decided to go hungry. Food always won out. Sam hated his father for that.
Yet, through it all, Dean rarely complained. That irritated Sam to no end. Just once, Sam wanted Dean to stand up to their father. To tell him where he could stick his hunt and he had never wanted it more than with this current hunt.
John had told Dean that participation was up to him and that was the problem. His brother couldn't say no to their father any more than someone could tell the sun not to rise. Dean idolized the man. He dressed like him, listened the same music, and had the same interests and talents. To Dean saying no would be the equivalenent of a marine saying no the a mission assigned by his general. It would be looked on as weakness. No, Dean had no choice at all.
Hunting was dangerous enough but ghosts and spirits followed rules and patterns. Dean could be facing dangers that no one could predict or prevent. When humans were involved so were emotions. People could be mean or just plain have bad days. What if Travis caught the prosecutor on a bad day and he didn't agree to their plans? Sam felt bad that kids were dying but he didn't want his brother to be one of them. He didn't care if that was selfish or not. He was mad at his father because he should have been the one to tell Jefferson that this hunt was too much to ask of anyone. Dean should never have even been asked about this hunt in the first place.
It wasn't surprising that John and Sam were sniping at each other constantly. Especially today when Travis was meeting with the prosectuor to arrange Dean's plea bargin. Even Dean was anxious, jumping everytime the phone rang. Sam, could tell that his father was nervous, not that he would ever admit it. In order to preserve his sanity John kicked his boys out of the house and told them not to come home for at least a couple of hours.
"What do you want to do?" Dean asked Sam as he tied his sneakers.
Sam shrugged. "The Cineplex is only a couple of miles away. Maybe we could go catch a movie."
"They have, like, 10 theaters. There has to be something half decent," Sam countered.
"Trust me Sammy, there is nothing playing," Dean replied uncomfortably.
Dean's tone told Sam everything he needed to know. They may not have been paying rent to stay in the house but their dad wasn't working and he'd been at the library reseaching their hunt. Sam had been trying to show their dad how to use the internet, but the elder hunter prefered doing things the old fashioned way. This meant that he wasn't hustling, and since they were going to be in the area for awhile using fraudulent credit cards was extremely risky. Money had to be very tight.
"I noticed a basketball in Joshua's garage. There's a park on the next block so we could go shoot some hoops," Sam suggested, letting Dean know he understood what he was trying to say.
Dean just groaned. Not only did he hate basketball, but he wasn't feeling all that hot and physical activity was high on the list of things he didn't want to do. His chest had been tight all morning, and he's woken up with a headache. He really hoped he wasn't coming down with the flu. Of course, that fact that he hadn't taken his meds in three days may have had something to do with it as well.
His father and brother were so busy worrying about his upcoming court date to pay much attention. He technically wasn't breaking his father's rule about his meds since the reason he stopped taking them was because he had ran out. He was going to mention it to his father, but he'd found his dad grumbling about bills and he just decided to make due with his inhaler. He was saving that for when he really needed it.
"I'm just going to let dad know where we're going. You can go get the ball," Dean conceded. He didn't want to mention how he was feeling to his brother as Sam would rat him out to their dad. His asthma was the one thing Sam would never keep his confidence about. Plus, he also appreciated Sam not giving he a hard time about the movie.
The brothers walked to the park in a companionable silence. Sam had mixed feelings on whether or not he wanted to meet some kids his own age. It would be good to make friends but sometimes when they settled into a nicer area, Sam found that the kids could be jerks, who didn't want to associate with "outsiders." During those times, Sam always had Dean but his brother wouldn't be there this time. It was another thing Sam resented his father for.
Dean was the one Sam ran to when he was hurt, scared or needed advice. He loved his dad but he wasn't comfortable talking to him and it seemed lately that every time he even tried a fight erupted. It was going to be a long 2 months.
"Something wrong, Sammy?" Dean asked in concern.
Sam really hoped he hadn't been thinking outloud. "No, just wondering how big a funk your going to be in tonight when I kick your ass," Sam replied as he grabbed the basketball away from Dean. Basketball was one of the few things Sam was better at. It always surprised Sam, because his brother was a natural born marksman. He could hit a moving target from any distance but he couldn't but a ball through a stationary hoop. To illustrate his point Sam threw the ball toward the basket and it went straight threw hitting nothing but net.
"Hey," Dean protested and grabbed the ball when it hit the ground. "I don't go into funks. That's for little princessess like you." Dean went for his own basket and watched in dismay as it hit the rim and bounced back to the court.
"You were saying, princess," Sam sneered goodnaturedly. He put in his second basket.
"You are so going down, Sammy," Dean shot back.
They hadn't been playing very long, when out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw 4 other boys approaching. One looked about Dean's age and the others seemed to be around his age. They appeared to be heading toward the basketball court.
"Hey," Sam nudged Dean and nodded toward the boys. They were both hoping the others wouldn't start anything.
"Mind if we join you?" the oldest boy said when they arrived a couple of minutes later.
"Sure," Sam said hesistantly. "I'm Sam. This is my brother, Dean."
"I'm Roger," the older boy introduced himself. "This is my brother Timmy and his friends Darren and Adam."
"It's Tim, idiot," one of the younger boys said as he punched his brother in the arm.
Sam and Dean exchanged a look, the scene looked so familar and the younger Winchester was suddenly encourgaged that this place might not be so bad afterall.
"I thought we finally have a chance to win," Adam grumbled about an hour later just after Sam scored the winning basket. He shot a glare at Dean.
"Don't look at me," Dean said with shrug. "I told you, you'd be better off with Sam." Dean didn't mind because he knew the guy was just teasing.
"Can we go get a drink?" Tim asked his brother.
"Sure. You guys coming?" Roger extended an invitation.
"I'm not thirsty," Dean replied, that uncomfortable feeling settling over him again.
"Um, me either," Sam replied.
"Okay, we'll be back in a few minutes," Roger said as he lead his brother and his friends over the the canteen.
"What to shoot some more hoops?" Sam asked.
"You go ahead," Dean replied. "I'm going to sit this one out."
Sam noticed that Dean was breathing heavily, like he was having trouble catching his breath but he was breathing hard as well and Sam really hoped it was just the physical exertion. "You okay?"
Dean just glared at him and walked over and sat at the pinic table.
Sitting on the table, Dean was hunched over with his elbows on his knees. His chest felt like it was getting tighter, but it didn't seem bad enough to need his inhaler. Or at least he really hoped he didn't need to use it because it was back on his bedside table. He'd been so busy worrying about the meeting taking place he had forgotten it. He didn't think he would need it because normal exercise didn't usually set his asthma off. It was usually extreme heat or cold, or allergens like dust and mold. His emotions could also set it off, and with the news he was waiting for it wasn't surprising that it was acting up. He just wished his father would take him to a faith healer and be done with it.
He took another deep breath and relaxed when his chest didn't feel tighter and he knew he wasn't having an attack. If he was his lungs would have constricted more with every breath. That eased his anxiety considerably.
"You look like you could use this," a voice suddenly cut into his thoughts.
Dean startled and looked up. Roger was standing there holding a cup of soda out to him.
"It's okay," Roger said when Dean hesistated. He knew the signs and he had seen a lot of himself and Timmy in the brothers.
Dean reached out and took the drink and looked to his brother. He saw Tim handing Sam a drink as well. "It used to be me and Timmy," Roger confided. "My father took off after when Tim was about 5. Mom had to work two jobs to support us, while she went to night school. I looked after my kid brother to make things easier on her. I don't really have to do it anymore but I'm so used to it." There was something about Dean that Roger trusted and he felt confortable talking to him.
"It's the same with me and Sammy," Dean said and took a long drink of the cool liquid.
"Is he in the call me Sam phase?" Roger asked with a smile.
"Yup," Dean said with a chuckle. He checked his watch. "We better get going before my dad sends out a search party. "Hey, Sam," Dean called. "Pack it up."
"Kay," Sam called back vaguely.
Dean jumped off the picnic table and he and Roger walked over to their brothers. "I can't believe school starts in 2 days," Adam complained.
"Yeah," Tim agreed. "Hey, Sam are you going to Nyland Junior High?"
"Yeah," Sam replied, happy that he would know some people on the first day.
"Cool," Tim replied.
"You going to the high school?" Roger asked Dean.
"Um..." Dean wasn't really sure what to say. His dad had enrolled Sam in school but not him, since he'd most likely not be there when it started.
"He goes to a boarding school," Sam suddenly blurted out.
Roger had to admit he was surprised by that. Boarding school was extremely expensive. "He has a scholarship," Sam quickly added hoping to make his lie believable.
"What's it for? Can't be basketball," Roger teased. He was a little disappointed because he was looking forward to to getting to knowing Dean better.
Sam looked toward his brother but Dean was giving him a 'you started it, you finish it look.' "Baseball," Sam finished. "You should see his fastball."
"When do you leave?" Tim asked. "We could go play some baseball tomorrow. There's a diamond not far from here."
Sam had no idea if his brother had a good fastball or not. "He leaves tomorrow."
"Too bad," Roger said. "It was good to meet you. I'll see you around on holidays."
"Thanks," Dean said. It was good to know that Sam had some friends, and he had to admit a part of him wished he wasn't leaving, as he may have actually had a friend in Roger.
"I'm sorry," Sam instantly apologized as he and Dean started back to the house. "It's just that..."
"You didn't want to be known as the boy whose brother's in juvie. I get it," Dean replied.
Sam wasn't sure he did. "I'm not ashamed of you," he said firmly. "It's just.."
"Forget it, Sam," Dean snapped. "Let's just go home, okay? Travis should have met with the prosecutor by now."
"Dean are you sure your alright?" Sam asked in concern. Dean was still panting a bit and it sounded like it was getting worse, and he was sure he could make out a slight wheeze.
"Just knock it off," Dean all but yelled and he felt bad when Sam recoiled. "My chest isn't tight," he lied. Like, Sam he could tell his breathing was getting worse.
"Yet," Sam pointed out. "You don't have your inhaler with you, do you?"
"Sam," Dean warned.
"You shouldn't even be breathing heavy. Your meds are supposed to stop.... did you take them today?" He suddenly guessed.
"I..ah.." Dean trailed off.
"No, you're not," Dean interupted his brother. "Dad's got enough to worry about."
"You promised," Sam reminded his brother.
"I don't have anymore," Dean finally admitted. "Do not tell dad. He's got enough on his mind."
"Dad said if you didn't take care of yourself, he wasn't letting you do this hunt." In Sam's mind it was the perfect solution. Could Dean have deliberately not told his dad about his pill situation becuase he wanted his dad to pull the plug? Where the hell had that thought come from, Sam thought. He suddenly wondered if his brother was as gung ho for his hunt as he wanted people to believe.
"He's not gonna find out," Dean threatened.
"Fine," Dean cut his brother off. "I'll tell him I ran out this morning. Okay?"
"But your doctor said you need to take the theophylline the same time every day for it to be effective. You're not supposed to skip doses."
"I'm fine," Dean insisted. "Just drop it, okay, Sammy?"
"Fine, but if you don't tell dad the minute we get home, I will," Sam said firmly.
The brothers entered the house just in time to see John slam the phone down. He didn't look happy.
"Dad was that Travis?" Dean asked.
"No," John replied. It wasn't a lie because he had been speaking to Jefferson. He didn't see the point in upsetting Sam or Dean about the sentencing until he had more conrete information.
"Did he call?" Dean asked a little worriedly.
"No!" John snapped.
"Dad... De..." he suddenly felt a hand land over his mouth.
"Sam," Dean warned. Now was so not the time to tell his dad about his meds.
"Dean, let your brother speak," John ordered.
Dean just glared at Sam. His dad would be furious if Sam had been the one to tell him that his meds had run out. "I took my last pill this morning," he blurted out.
John looked at the clock on the wall. "It's 4:00pm. Want to tell me why this didn't come up this morning at breakfast?"
"Forgot," Dean said half heartedly.
"Let's try that again. The truth, Dean."
"Ididn'twanttobugyou," Dean mumbled quickly.
"God damnit," John thundered. "Your health never falls into that category. When did you run out? If you say this morning, you're not going to be sitting comfortably for a very long time. We clear on that?" He knew his son better than anyone, and there was no way Dean had run out just that morning.
Dean swallowed nervously. "Three days," he admitted reluctantly.
"Just go to your room," John said tiredly. Lecturing Dean would do no good. It was talking to a brick wall. "I need to go refill your prescription. Just go to your room and do not come out until I get back. Then when I do, we are going to talk about your participation in this hunt. I believe I said taking care of yourself was a requirement."
"But dad..." Dean prostested instantly. "I'm..."
"If the word fine leaves those lips, your aren't gonna hunt until you graduate high school, and at the rate your going it could be years," John said carelessly and he knew in that instant he took it to far. The teachers at his last school had given Dean a hard time. He was smart but school was last on his priority list and his grades reflected that. "Just go to your room, alright."
"What about the hunt?" Dean asked. As much as he was reluctant, a part of him was desparate to prove to his father that he could be responsible enough to handle leading one.
"I said we'll talk when I get back."
"That mean, no," Dean huffed. "Jefferson needs me," he reminded his father.
"Just go to your room," John said slowly. He so did not need to get into it with his eldest right now.
"This is your fault," Dean said turning his anger to his brother as he stormed down the hall and slammed the door to his room.
"I'm sorry," Sam said to his father. He had been silent between his brother and father's exchange. He wasn't used to Dean aruging with their dad and he hadn't known what to say.
"It's okay, Sammy," John said gently. "You did the right thing."
"Are you really going to stop this hunt?" Sam asking hoping he didn't sound eager.
"That's between your brother and me,"
He was so not doing this with his youngest either. "Enough Samuel. I'll be back in a half hour. If Jefferson phones tell him to call my cell and stay away from your brother. He's being punished."
John didn't give his son a chance to protest any further. He just grabbed the keys and slammed the front door on his way out. Leaving Sam standing there wondering how things had gone down hill so fast.
Dean was fuming. He was mad at Sam for ratting him out. He should have known not to mention the situation with his medication when his father was clearly in a bad mood.
He was mad that he had asthma in the first place, it was what seemed to screw everything up. He wanted to hurl his inhaler out the window or smash it on the ground but it would be just his luck that it would flair up as soon as he was finished.
Most of all, though, he was mad at himself. For being such a screw up in the first place. The hunt hadn't even started yet and he's already blown it.
Deep down, he felt ashamed because he was wondering if he had deliberately sabotaged this hunt. He wanted to hunt. He wanted to make his dad proud, but when it came right down to it, he didn't want to go to juvie. He was...
God, he really was a pansy. It wasn't like it was forever. It was for two god damn months, but it still didn't change the fact that it was terrifying him like nothing else. He was afaid what the other inmates would be like, he was worried that his dad wouldn't visit every day like he said. What if something happened to Sammy while he was inside? That was what scared him the most.
"Snap out of it," he berated himself. "Just grow up and quit acting like a baby." His dad wouldn't be afraid. He did want it took to get the job done.
He grabbed his inhaler off the beside table and used it. He had to make sure he didn't have an attack in front of his father. He needed to prove he could look after himself.
He'd also quit asking about his dad visiting. He shouldn't be so clingy. He was a hunter and he was damn well going to prove it. For once he'd make his dad proud and not ashamed of him.
Jefferson pulled up in front of his brother's house, trying to keep his nerves under control. Being nervous wasn't a feeling he was used to and he really didn't like it. He dealt with juvenile offenders everyday, and he hunted things nightmares were made of in his off hours, but the thought of facing an irate John Winchester was reducing him to a puddle of mush. When one of John's kids was threatened Jefferson would rather jump into shark infested waters with an open cut. He'd be safer with the great white.
He did have a plan. It wasn't perfect but at least he hoped it would prevent John from killing him. He took a deep breath, yelled at himself for being such a wimp, and before he could get out of the car John's black Impala pulled in beside him. He relunctantly got out of the car.
"I'm glad you're here. We need to talk," John said skipping any kind of formal greeting.
"I think I have a solution to our problem."
"Doesn't matter. Dean and I had an agreement and he didn't keep up his end. We're finished."
"John, I know your worried," Jefferson interupted. "I have a plan."
"I don't care," John said firmly. "This whole things over and done with."
"I'm sorry those boys are in trouble, but you know what mine come first first."
"What happened?" Jefferson asked in genuine concern. "Are they okay?"
"They're fine," John answered and Jefferson sighed in relief. "See this?" John asked as he held up the bag from the pharmacy. "This is Dean's medication. The same stuff he stopped taking 3 days ago. Do you know what the pharmasist recommended? That I take Dean for a check up as it can be dangerous to stop taking this medicine suddenly. Does it sound like he's ready for a hunt? I can't even just disappear until I make sure my boy's okay."
"DEAN!" John hollered to his son, as soon as he entered the house, with Jefferson close on his heels. "Get your ass front and center."
It wasn't long before the object of his wrath showed up. John wasn't suprised to see Sam enter not far behind his brother. "Here," John said tossing the pharmacy bag at his son. "Go take your meds."
"Dad, I'm sorry..."
"I don't care," John snapped. "Do it and go back to your room."
"Jeff, the hunt. What did Tr..."
"This is the 2nd order you're breaking," John warned. "I can guaruntee you won't like what happens if you get to a third. Go. To. Your. Room."
Dean desparately wanted to talk back but he was trying to prove to his father he could take care of himself. "Yes sir. Sorry Sir," Dean replied with as much sincereity as he could muster. "Come one Sam. Dad and Jeff need to talk."
Sam's own anger was growning. Just once why couldn't Dean stand up for himself. "Dean..."
"Drop it, Sam."
"When is the sentencing hearing?" John asked as he rumaged through the cupboard for aspirin.
"In five days," Jefferson said. He needed to make John see reason. "I have a way we can get Dean out."
"You listen about as well as my son," John replied tiredly. He was beginning to regret the day he had agreed to his whole thing. He had been wary of it ever since Jefferson had prosposed the idea. He wasn't blind to the fact that he may have uncousiously been looking for a way to pull the plug.
"Hear me out," Jefferson requested.
"You agreed to this initailly even though you didn't want to. Part of you must want to make sure no one else dies. You saw all my research on this spirit. It's not even dangeous if you listen to it."
"I agree, the spirits not dangerous but it's not the spirt that worries me."
"The unit I work on, it's not that bad. I swear I'm not lying about that. It houses inmates that are first time offenders who commited non-violent crimes. Most of them are terrifed on arrival, so we don't have a lot of incidents. Most of them just want to do their time and get released. Each boy gets their own cell. Their supervised closely during rec time. They can't sneeze without having to ask permission to do it. I won't say it's 100% safe, I can't, but neither is public school," Jefferson reminded his friend. "As for Dean's meds, I can guaruntee he'll get what he needs. Our nurse has been there for over 10 years and believe me when I tell you she's seen it all."
"Tell me about your escape plan?" John conceded.
"The boys in each unit are divided into levels. The higher the level the more privileges you get. When you get to level five you start earning points, and when you have enough points you can get released for a weekend. You guys can just disappear. Travis has his contact doctor Dean's records and you guys are in the clear. As Dean's unit supervisor it's my job to promote him to the next level. As long as he's following the rules no one will question me moving him up. There's just one thing."
"What?" John asked. The more he heard about this hunt the less he liked it.
"It takes a minimum of three months for him to earn the right for a weekend furlough."
"The more I'm hearing the more I dislike this," John voiced his thoughts outloud. "You said minimum. It sounds like Dean would have to be a model prisoner. Dean's a good kid but...well you saw how well he follows orders. He..." John stopped abruptly when he looked up and saw Dean standing in the doorway. "I thought I told you to stay in your room."
"I needed a drink," Dean said softly his tone indicating that he heard what his dad had said.
"Are you sure you weren't eavesdropping?" John accused.
"No," Dean protested and started coughing. "I needed a drink," he repeated again.
John cursed himself for once again putting his foot in his mouth. "Why do we need an escape plan?" Dean questioned.
"We hit a snag at the prosecutors office," Jefferson explained. He could feel John's glare on him. "Prosecutor wouldn't agree to less than a year."
"Then I'm glad your calling this off dad," a young voice joined the argument. "I told you there was too much that could go wrong."
The 3 elder hunters looked up to see a very irate Sam Winchester standing in the doorway. He had been eavesdropping. "Were you even going to tell Dean or just let him be blindsided at the trial?"
John's own temper was getting close to the breaking point. He didn't tolerate rudeness under any circumstances, and especially in front of company. Yet, here was his little darlings not only talking back and being disrespectful but they were disobeying orders left and right. When exactly had he lost control? Well he knew one thing, he was taking it back. He opened his mouth to really let his boys have it when Dean spoke. His words sealed John's decision.
Dean didn't really have time to process Jeff's words. A year? He didn't think he could do a full year. There was a big difference between 2 months and 12 but Jefferson had said he would only have to do three months and he was determined to show his father he could be trusted, to make up for that mistake he made with the shtriga all those years ago. "You don't think I can do it," Dean accused his father. "Don't trust me to get the job done," he challenged.
John was caught and he knew it. No matter how he phased his answer, his son was going to think his father didn't trust him. It wasn't that. John trusted Dean more then he did hunters twice his son's age but he had no control over what happened to his son once he was inside. To much about this hunt was out of his control. "I trust you son," John said firmly. "Alright. You have 5 days to prove you can look after yourself. If I have to remind you about your meds once or if you disobey even an order to brush your teeth it ends. We clear on that one?"
"Yes, sir," Dean said. He was both nervous and excited. "I won't let you down again sir, promise."
Sam, on the other hand, was not so thrilled. "Why five days?" he asked suspiously.
"That's when Dean's sentencing hearing is."
"Five days?" he asked in disbelief. "No, it's not enough time. We need a back up plan."
"We don't," Dean insisted. Didn't anyone believe in him? "I can do 3 months," Dean said firmly to Jefferson. "I won't let you down either."
"I HATE YOU! ALL YOU CARE ABOUT IS YOUR STUPID HUNT!" Before anyone had a chance to speak Sam ran out of the room.
"I'll talk to him dad. I'm make him understand," Dean took off after his brother.
John turned his glare to the hunter sitting next to him. "If anything else goes wrong..." He trailed off. He didn't need to continue. Jefferson heard the unspoken words loud and clear.
5 day later.
Jefferson Gage was sitting at his desk completing Dean's admission paperwork. He was assigned to Jefferson's unit just like he had promised John. He had just finished signing off on the reports when he heard a knock.
"Hey Al," Jefferson greeted his fellow guard. Al Whitford was second in command.
"Boss wants to see you," he informed his friend.
"Kay," Jefferson said. "Did he say what for?"
"No, just that it was important."
"On my way. Can you file his paperwork for me."
Leaving the office, Jefferson made his way to Warden Raymond Litton's office. Ray was the superintendant of the the juvenile detention center.
"You wanted to see me boss?" Jefferson said as Ray's seceratay let him in.
"Yeah, have a seat?"
"Am I in trouble?" he asked, half joking, half serious.
"No, it's good news actually. I'm promoting you."
"Pardon?" he asked in disbelief.
"Chis got a job out of state. He put his two weeks notice in." Chis Burke was the Chief supervisor. He oversaw all the units. It was one step below Ray's job."
"I like where I'm at," Jefferson replied. Why the hell was this happening now?
"You're my best guard. There's more money."
"Money's the least of my concern."
"I need you," Ray said honestly. "The board's freaked by these killings. I want you keeping on eye on everyone."
"Do they suspect a guard?"
"I don't know what to expect but three fatal accidents in 3 months isn't sitting well with anyone. Chris will go over your new responsibilites. Starting today."
Jefferson sighed. Ray didn't take no for an answer. "Is Al taking my spot?"
"Are you going to need a new guard?" Jefferson was thinking of John.
"No," Ray said dashing Jeff's hopes. "We got a guy named Don Bridges transfering in from county."
"Can I start tomorrow," Jefferson requested. "We got a kid arriving today. He's the son of a friend of my brothers. Just let me handle his intake and I'll report tomorrow. He's a good kid.."
"If he was he wouldn't be there would he?" Ray interupted.
"He got mixed in with the wrong crowd. He's going to be freaked enough. A friendly face might do him some good."
"Only because it's you," Ray conceded.
Jefferson got up, left the room and cursed all the way back to his office. Al was a good guy. He was fair but he did make prisioners earn their privileges. With him as supervisior it would be at least four months before Dean earned a ticket out. He had no idea what this Bridges guy was like. Guards that came from the county facility were usually a lot stricter.
He was suddenly thinking that maybe Sam had been right. Maybe this was too much to ask of a 16 year old kid. He looked out the window of his office to the rec area and some boys playing cards. Without Dean, he could be telling anyone of their parents their son wasn't coming home.
Were exactly did one draw the line?
He had no answers for that as he took a seat behind his desk, returning to his paper work as he waited for Dean to arrive.
Please read and review.
Question for you all. Do you want the next chapter to start at Dean's sentencing hearing or do you want to read about the conversation that Dean has with Sam when he runs off?
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