Unspoken Words

Chapter 3

Dean arrived early the next morning around nine. Dr. Kadinsky had called and estimated Sam should be waking sometime during today. Dean wanted to at least be there when he did.

He sat next to his brother again, telling him about the monstrous burger he ate the night before. He included hand actions for whatever reason he could not decide. It's not like Sam could hear or see him at the moment, but Dean felt like it was necessary either way.

There was a knock at the door followed by that irritating voice. "Your friend's down in the rec room. He's been sitting there ever since the clock turned eight exactly. He has a game out, and I'm assuming he's just waiting for you to get down there."

Dean watched her leave as he pondered this. Is that what he was trying to say with the card? Dean told Sam he had to leave for an unidentified amount of time but would be sure to come back to him.

Dean found the rec room earlier this time than he had before. It was brighter inside from the sunlight and more people seemed to be bustling about. People sitting in chairs watching cartoons, jittery ones scribbling frantically on paper, some window lickers, and an old pair playing checkers. He walked over to where the supervisor sat next to a pot of steaming coffee. He happily poured himself a cup and blew on it gingerly.

When he looked up he found the boy with his hair all tousled and dirty trench coat pulled tight staring happily at him. His lips were curled minutely upward and his eyes shone like the reflection of the sea. Dean sat in the wooden chair across from the boy and set his coffee down next to the box labeled Connect Four. "Shall we play?"

He watched as the boy eagerly opened the box and quickly assembled the game. His movements were purposeful and never sloppy. He nudged the red chips toward Dean, motioning for him to start.

They played match after match for hours. The boy won every single game and Dean faked being upset about it. He loved watching the boy stare in consternation as he decided where his next move would be placed and the satisfaction that rippled through his features when he did. The boy's eyes would continuously widen and squint depending on Dean's plays. He noticed how carefully the boy watched him and how delicately he handled the game pieces. Dean wondered how anyone could be as gentle with every single object or thing as this boy was.

"I should probably head back to see my brother. He's supposed to be waking up today," Dean said sadly as he looked at the time. It was nearly one in the afternoon. He realized he'd spent all that time playing Connect Four with someone he didn't truly know.

After not receiving any reaction, Dean stood and began to leave the rec room. He felt a soft hand from behind him grab his own very kindly. He turned to face the boy staring up at him with an expression Dean couldn't read. He took Dean's pendant in his fingers again and turned it over in his grasp, ominously studying its complex shape. He then brought Dean's hand closer to his, making the palm face up. He blinked at it a few times, concentrating on something invisible to Dean. The boy brought his free hand up and began drawing circles against Dean's palm with his pointer finger. Dean just stood there and watched, completely unsure of how he was supposed to react to these situations.

The boy finally stopped drawing and reached into the inside of his coat much like the day before. He pulled out a ziplock bag filled halfway with what Dean presumed to be honey and their combs. The boy smiled at it proudly before placing the bag in Dean's palm and folding his fingers over it.

"I collected it this morning," he ensured. Dean gawked as the boy returned to the table and continued the game by himself. He awkwardly put the bag in his jacket pocket and made to return to Sam's room.

"Is he always like that?" Dean asked Meg who was again standing in the doorway.

"He's jumbled. Of course he's going to act a little strange. This is the psych ward if you didn't notice."