The Road Not Taken 7

Dean practically collapsed against the wall of the vent as soon as they were inside, the adrenaline from the last hours making his legs shake. Sam slid down next to him, staring towards the opening of the vent. Cold metal propped them up while they let the adrenaline from the scare leave them.

They sat in silence like that for a few minutes, listening to the sounds from the room beyond. It took time before the human started moving again, but Sam never rubbed at his neck so Dean took that to mean that Jacob wasn’t glancing their way or searching for where they went. An earth rattling shake came as the human got on the bed, jarring the two brothers where they sat slumped.

“Well,” Dean said, breaking the silence that stretched between them. “That didn’t all go to plan, did it?”

Sam shot him a scathing glare. “Ya think?” he shot back. Then, he sighed. “At least that’s over with. We’ll just have to avoid that room until he’s gone.”

“Yeah…” Dean trailed off, remembering Jacob’s final offer of pie and the regret in the human’s demeanor at the end. Jacob had seemed pretty sincere...

Sam caught his eye. “Dean, no. Whatever you’re thinking, no more tries for pie. We’ll run through some other rooms tomorrow. Safer rooms where they don't know we exist.” He hauled himself to his feet, holding a hand out for his older brother. “After I stop in at home and make sure mom and dad know I’m still alive.”

Dean rolled his eyes as he accepted the help. “What do they think I’m gonna do? You’re always fine when you come visit.”

He got a weird glance in return. “Dean, you just spent the last hour in a coffee pot. If they find out about that, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Dean said stubbornly, setting off towards his home in the walls.

---

The next morning dawned slowly in the hidden, dusty passages within the walls of the motel. Dean gave a luxurious stretch, yawning in the cool morning air. With summer still ahead of them, the warmth of the day hadn’t had time to reach the inside of the walls where he lived.

He sat up, pushing off some of the fabric that made up his nest to sleep on. Sam was still gone, having stayed the night with their adopted family to reassure them that yes, he was in one piece, and no, Dean hadn’t gotten himself in trouble yet.

A thought occurred to Dean as he absently walked out of his room, passing by the empty room where Sam stayed when he visited. He brushed a hand through his hair, trying to fix the morning bedhead in favor of his usual spike.

When the thought hadn’t left him after he finished getting ready for the day, pulling on a clean pair of jeans and another black tee (he had more black shirts than any other color because it made it easy for him to blend into the shadows), he was beginning to consider it.

Sam was out, so it would be easy to slip away. Jacob had offered the pie, after all.

The leather jacket and his durable leather boots finished off his outfit. Dean gathered up his knife, admiring the silver gleam in what dim morning light made it into his home. After returning the day before, he’d assiduously cleaned both weapons, pausing to sharpen up Sam’s before he finished. His little brother needed to take better care of his only weapon.

Dean absently brushed his amulet with a hand, touching the cool metal. It was better he go before Sam got back. He didn’t want to risk Sam following again and getting into any more trouble.

He snagged his duffel on the way out.

---

Jacob thought he'd treat himself a little, and didn’t set an alarm for the morning, but his body was so used to being awake early anyway. He lay in his bed for nearly an hour before standing up to shuffle around the room, getting ready for a day of job searching. He had enough newspapers that he didn't think it'd be a problem, but it would be tedious work all the same.

About halfway through his morning routine, he couldn't hold his real concerns at bay any longer. He found himself wondering after Dean and his little brother. They had disappeared under the bed and Jacob had resolutely not tried to see how they left the room.

But that meant he was curious as hell now.

The tiny little people had looked so terrified of him. Dean had sounded near tears when he grabbed Sam. It painted a picture of himself, and Jacob didn't like what it conveyed.

If he could make up for it somehow, he'd do it, but he didn't expect to ever see them again after their cautious exit. So, when he pulled a hoodie over his head and brushed his hands back and forth through his hair after a quick shower, he did his best to put them out of mind. They were gone and he might as well have imagined the whole thing. He could say the cuts on his hand were from anything.

After a quick run for breakfast, Jacob came back to his room and set up his newspapers on the table. He leaned over them on one elbow, a pen in the other hand. Want ads for various odd jobs got circled or crossed out as he worked, lightly tapping each printed word as he read them.

---

Getting across the room was child’s play.

Dean was almost surprised he’d ever been caught by the human the day before. Jacob was completely enthralled in what he was working on, missing the entrance of the small man from his vent. Instead of going under the bed this time, which would mean he would need to cross the floor directly next to where Jacob was sitting, Dean hugged the wall and made his way towards the dresser.

Going around the circumference of the room nearly tripled the length of his journey, but Dean resolutely did not want to be caught in the center of the floor if the human decided to walk around. Jacob might have changed his tune the day before, but his sheer size would always render him a danger to people like Dean. His boots alone looked longer than the Impala had in Dean’s childhood, and with far more strength to crush with if they landed on him, accident or not.

Not once did Jacob react as he passed in front of the towering door, inordinately glad that the deadbolt was in place. If anyone outside wanted in, Jacob would have to let them in, making the passage safer for Dean.

He ducked under the dresser, hunching over as he ran through the dark and dustbunny infested field. It had been years since the dust had bothered him or Sam. At a motel like Trails West, where the cleaning crew wasn’t top notch, it was simply a fact of life. If anything, the piles of lint and dust helped hide them even better.

Dean glanced towards the massive human’s boots as he came back out into the light. They were motionless as Jacob worked steadily at whatever he was doing above. Dean eyed up the edge of the table, drawing his hook out of his bag and uncoiling the thread. With careful aim, he tossed it up with a powerful throw and watched it catch on the edge. He tugged at it, making sure it wasn’t going to slip before he began his ascent.

He scaled up the table faster than normal, his unconscious mind driving him up with a reminder of the way he’d been so easily snatched from midair the day before. His efforts to avoid it had gotten him nowhere, and it resulted in one of the closest scares of his cursed life. If Sam ever found out he was back in the room, he’d never hear the end of it.

Never.

Dean reached the top, leaving the hook in place in case he needed a quick getaway. It was odd to not have Sam backing him up with an extra hook if his fell. He double-checked that it was properly secured before walking towards the belongings that blocked him from the human’s sight.

Reaching the final edge before he’d be in sight, Dean paused to take a deep breath. The day before, this human had been an enemy, plain and simple. After the end, with Jacob’s startling turnaround, Dean didn’t know what to call him. He'd need to be confident and prepared for anything.

It was the only way to survive.

Resolute, he strolled out from behind cover with a confident swagger, walking right onto the newspaper that Jacob was hunched over, his pen tapping steadily on the surface.

Even the damn pen was longer than Dean was tall.

“So, that offer for pie still on the table?”