You Bastards! 6/8
Chapter 6
"The chef in the elementary school cafeteria?" Dean repeated and drowned the last of his coffee.
Sam shrug. "It's worth a shot. Besides it's our only lead." And a crappy one but he didn't say that loud. Just a guy making some chocolate thingy things. Sucked at naming them, too.
Like a basketball player Dean dunked his cup in the trashcan then he handed a wooden stake to Sam while he hid another one under his jacket. Of course Dean was prepared. Bouncing on the balls of his feet he was eager to kill that son of a bitch.
"Are you serious?" Sam took the stake but hold it at arms length as if it would bite him.
"What?"
"We are going to an elementary school for Christ's sake." He pronounced every word carefully as if he was talking to a five-year-old. With Dean it wasn't that far off most of the time. When he wanted to be his brother could be pretty smart but usually he played the role of the brawn and let Sam be the brains.
"And?"
"What do you wanna do? Stab the chef in the cafeteria? Let me guess during lunch time would be perfect." Sam still hold the stake as if he had no idea what to do with it.
"Dude, I'm not retarded." Dean shot back with an eye roll. "But I'm not going in there naked. And neither are you. So take the damn stake and let's go. We'll find a nice, quiet place to do the killing." He promised with a honest face but it was a thin mask, beneath it he was laughing his ass off for irritating Sam.
"Maybe we should wait till he gets home." Sam suggested to the closing door, Dean was already outside and didn't listening. "Or maybe not." Sam sighed and followed his brother to the car.
"So what do you think, health department?" Sam rummaged through the box with their fake IDs.
Dean just nodded and pulled into the lot of the school. It was still early but the chef should be in the kitchen preparing lunch.
They made their way through endless corridors. Sam listened to the muted voices he could hear from the classrooms they passed and a smile crept on his lips. With a deep breath he took in the familiar odor he had always connected with school. As a teenager this smell meant normal to him. It was his little escape from the world his family lived in. Always the new kid, always the freak. God, had he been desperate to fit in. And every time when he had found friends and gotten comfortable in school his dad had returned from a hunt and barked an order and they had been on the road the next day. To another shitty place, another school. But the smell was the same everywhere he went. Normal. Sam sighed.
A quick side glance to Dean told him his brother had noticed this particular odor too or maybe it was the sound or just the building itself, but Dean was lost in memories. But he would bet Dean remembered more janitors' closets and that place under the bleachers than actual classrooms.
"God, I had hoped to never set a foot in a school again." Dean let out a sigh.
"I don't think they will trap you and make you finish school." Sam teased and patted him on the shoulder.
"Ha, ha, very funny." Dean shot him a look. "The things you really need to know you can't learn in a frigging school. We know more about this world than they will ever know."
Sam had no response for that. His brother was right. Damn, Dean was one of the best hunters he knew and he didn't need a fancy diploma to prove it. "This way." He had spotted a sign leading them to the cafeteria.
They introduced themselves with their fake health department IDs. The chef immediately got very helpful. He was a black man, little overweight with a soulful voice. Sam liked him on the spot. Not that this little fact would stop him from stabbing this man with the stake he had under his jacket if he had to.
"This is just a routine check." Dean reassured the man while Sam swept through the kitchen and the storage rooms. When he returned Sam found his brother and the chef in a conversation which made him blush. Living with Dean 24/7 got him used to a lot. His brother could talk openly about his latest sex adventure, just for fun to see how far he could get before Sam got red ears and changed the topic. But don't you dare and ask him about his feelings, Sam thought.
This however took embarrassing to a whole new level. At some point the chef even started singing while Dean was grinning like an idiot.
"Thanks." Sam interrupted. "That should it be for now. Everything looks just fine." He grabbed his brother and made a beeline for the door.
"I like him." Dean was still grinning.
"I don't think he should talk and sing about such things." Sam answered as soon as he was sure the chef couldn't hear him anymore. "The kids around here a certainly not old enough to hear that stuff. Hell, I'm not sure if I'm old enough." He shook his head, he had still the melody in his ear. Great.
"I'm pretty sure I gave you the Talk."
"Don't remind me of that." Now Sam really shuddered. Dean had tried, he really had. And for sure it had been better than everything his father could have come around with. But still. A sixteen year old swirling with hormones just shouldn't give his little brother advice on that topic no matter how mature he was.
"And you had a girlfriend." Dean added his grin changing into a lascivious one. "Don't tell me you never got to the hardcore sex part."
"Can we stop talking about my sex life?" Sam plead, the mention of Jess stung right in his heart.
"As if you have one." Dean snorted but showed mercy and dropped it. "Found anything?"
"Nothing." He wasn't sure what he had hoped to find. When they first met the Trickster they had found nothing pointing towards him. They had pinned him down with conclusion rather than with evidence. And Broward County? Sam was pretty sure the Trickster switched the syrup on purpose to give him a hint. To bring his little show to the next level, to Wednesday. And the months after that.
"You think it's him?" Sam asked burying the time without Dean deep in his mind where it belonged. Dean was alive, that was all that mattered.
"I like him." Dean repeated instead of an answer.
"You liked the Trickster when we first met him on that campus." Sam reminded him. "It was actually scary how well you two got along."
Dean just shrug his shoulders. "Like I said, he has style." He thought about it for a minute. "But I don't think the chef is our guy."
Sam opened his mouth to say something when the bell rang. Immediately the hall was full with children.
"I don't believe it."
"What?" Sam followed his brother's line of sight. First he noticed the kids - why the hell were they wearing their hats and mittens inside the building? - then he caught sight of the teacher.
"It's that hand puppet guy." Dean explained unnecessarily.
"Maybe it's an educational thing."
"Dude, this is not kindergarten."
Yeah, the children were a little to old for that kind of thing, Sam had to admit.
"And he was wearing it on the street. In the middle of the night." Dean pointed out. "I'm just saying, this town is beyond weird."
"No argument here." He spread his arms in surrender. Then he spotted a familiar figure. Sam grabbed Dean's arm and hauled him around the next corner.
"What the ..." Dean started but went silent when he saw the look on Sam's face. Sam peeked around the corner.
"Does that janitor look familiar to you?"
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