Hunted {Dean Winchester 3}

Chapter 6

The Kids Are Alright

"Something's wrong with the kids in this town." Dean said as we walked into the motel room where Sam sat, researching for whatever was going on. 

"Yeah, tell me about it." Sam replied as Dean peeled off his coat and dropped it on the bed. "So what do you know about changelings?"

"Evil monster babies?" Dean asked.

"That's a reassuring to tell new parents." I muttered. 

"No, not necessarily babies." Sam corrected.

"The kids." Dean realized, moving back to the table where Sam sat. "The creepy, stare-at-you-like-you're-lunch kids?"

"Yup." Sam sighed. "There's one at every victims house."

I pulled off my jacket, then began unbuttoning the flannel I wore today, leaving me in a tank top. I sat down, untying the laces of my boots. "Great. Killer kids. Yay." I dropped my shoes, then stood, pulling the tank top off.

"Whatcha doing, Si?" Dean asked, eyes following my every movement.

"I'm going to take a shower and you are not invited." I smiled at him.

___

"Changelings can perfectly mimic children." Sam stated as he sat on his bed, making parts of the homemade flame thrower. 

Dean sat at the dresser right in my way, making another. 

I held the towel around me, sitting by him.

"According to lore, they climb the window, snatch the kids. There were marks on the windowsill at one house." Sam continued. "Looked to me like blood."

"Can I please get dressed now?" I asked, kicking the side of Dean's knee. He was sitting directly in front of where all my clothes were.

"No, I like this look." Dean smiled at me. "So changeling grabs the kids, assumes its form, joins the happy family, just for kicks?"

"Not quite. Changelings feed on the mom. Synovial fluid." Sam replied. "The mom have these odd bruises on the back of their necks. Changelings can drain them for a few weeks before the mom finally croaks."

"And then there's dad and the babysitter--" Dean began.

"Yeah, seems like anyone who gets between a changeling and its food ends up dead." Sam said.

"Like Dean. Crazy, isn't it?" I joked. 

"Oh, ha, ha." Dean lightly pinched my thigh, making me yelp and pull my leg away. "And fire's the only way to waste them?" He held up the flame thrower.

"Yep." Sam nodded.

"Great. We'll just bust in, drag the kids out, torch them on the front lawn." Dean said. "That'll play great with the neighbors. What about the real ones? What happens to them?"

"According to lore, they stash them underground." Sam explained.

"Obviously. I mean, where else would you keep children?" I asked. 

"I don't know why, but if it's true, real kids might be out there somewhere." Sam continued as Dean walked over to him. 

"Better start looking." Dean stated. "So any kid in the neighborhood is vulnerable?"

I grabbed an outfit, standing. "Sounds like it."

"We gotta make a stop. I wanna check on someone." Dean said.

"If the real kids are alive, we don't have time--" Sam began.

"We have to." 

"His co-parenting didn't go well today." I told Sam. "Oh, and Mille told me to tell you--and I quote--'Tell that King Sized Candy Bar to call me back because he can actually hold a conversation really well and it's nice to talk to someone other than you. Thanks.' Also I learned that Dean is a Share Size Candy Bar because he's slightly shorter than you. That's Millie's logic."