Little Winchester: Book One (Supernatural Fanfiction)

The Benders

I was getting ready to go to bed with Blue when Dean walked in, alone and looking like he was about to burst into tears. I dropped the clothes I'd changed out of and ran over to him and hugged his legs, "Sammy's missing," was all he could choke out. I was confused, but burst into tears anyway. I clung to Dean and cried until I fell asleep, listening to him say, "I'll find him," repeatedly.

Dean woke me up the next morning around seven thirty, "Get up and get dressed, I don't want to leave you here by yourself until we find Sam." I rolled out of bed and dragged my dufflebag to the bathroom by its strap. Blue came in and did my hair after I got dressed in a pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt. I walked out of the bathroom and went to Dean. "C'mon, the cops want to talk to us about Sammy," Dean told me as he opened the door. It had to be bad if we were getting the cops involved, I grabbed Sylveter before running out the door. Dean and I drove in almost complete silence, he didn't even turn the radio on. It didn't take long for us to get to the police station, or to get in an office with one of the deputies. I think that was mainly due to him flashing his badge though... "So, what can we do for you, Officer Washington?" she asked as she inspected the ID while we stood in the doorway of her office. She glanced at me before finally Dean. "I’m working a missing persons," Dean explained. "I didn’t know the Jenkins case was being covered by the state police," she sounded suspicious before adding, "And bringing children on the job..." Dean looked over at me, "Oh, no. No, there’s someone else. Actually, it’s my cousin. We were havin’ a few last night at this bar down by the highway. And I haven’t seen him since. I'm not letting her out of my sight as a precaution," Dean explained once more. She raised an eyebrow, "Does your cousin have a drinking problem?" She asked as she turned around, letting us into her office. "Sam? Two beers and he’s doin’ karaoke." Dean scoffed as he followed, holding my hand. The woman smiled before Dean went on, "No, he wasn’t drunk. He was taken." The woman nodded her head as she sat in front of her computer and started typing. "Alright. What’s his name?" she asked, getting down to business. "Winchester. Sam Winchester," Dean's demeanor changed as we sat down. "Like the rifle?" she inquired. Dean nodded, "Like the rifle," he confirmed. I brought my knees to my chest and listened to her type. "Samuel Winchester. So, you know that his brother, Dean Winchester, died in St. Louis. And, uh, was suspected of murder." Dean stiffened, I hoped there wasn't a picture on there... "Yeah, Dean. Kind of the black sheep of the family. Handsome, though," I sent Dean a glare. "Uh-huh," she sounded skeptical, but continued to type. "Well, he’s not showing up in any current field reports..." she informed as she skimmed the screen. "Oh, I already have a lead. I saw a surveillance camera by the highway," Dean helped. She looked away from the screen, "Uh-huh. The county traffic cam?" Dean nodded his head, "Right. Yeah. I’m thinking the camera picked up whatever took him. Or, whoever," Dean covered up his mistake. "Well, I have access to the traffic cam footage down at the county works department, but—well, anyhow, let’s do this the right way," she got up from her computer and started digging in a filing cabinet. She handed Dean a clipboard full of papers after a few moments, "Why don’t you fill out a missing persons report and sit tight over here?" she requested as she handed him the clipboard. Dean looked down confusedly at the clipboard, "Officer, look, uh, he’s family. I kind of—I kind of look out for the kid. You gotta let me go with you," he pleaded. "I’m sorry, I can’t do that," she shook her head sympathetically. "Well, tell me something. Your county has its fair share of missing persons. Any of ‘em come back?" he pressed, her look made my chest ache. "Sam’s my responsibility. And he’s comin’ back. I’m bringin’ him back." She stared at him before giving a sigh.

She left Dean and I outside some department. We were outside for almost thirty minutes before Kathleen came back, "Greg," she called. Dean got up and turned to face her, "I think we’ve got something." She handed him a stack of papers, "These traffic cams take an image every three seconds, as part of the Amber Alert program. These images were all taken around the time that your cousin, Sam, disappeared." Dean looked disappointed, "This really isn’t what I’m looking for." She urged Dean to keep looking, "Just wait, wait—next one." Dean flipped to the next one, but I couldn't see it. "This one was taken right after Sam left the bar. Look at the back end of that thing. Now, look at the plates." Dean flipped to the next page and concluded, "Oh, the plates look new. It’s probably stolen." Kathleen nodded her head, "So, whoever’s driving that rust bucket must be involved." I flinched as a van drove by, its engine was hurting my ears. "Hear that engine?" Dean asked, the three of us turned to watch it drive by. "Yeah?" she sounded a bit confused. "Kind of a whining growl, isn’t it?" Dean sounded like he'd come to a realization. Kathleen and I remained out of loop, "Sure," she agreed; glancing at Dean, who was staring at the van. "I’ll be damned," Dean muttered, it didn't sound like Kathleen had heard it.