Dean shivered as he waited in line. When he finally got to the front, Linda, the food closet lady, looked sternly down at him. "I told you, a parent needs to come."

Swallowing his pride again, Dean fixed his best pleading eyes on her. "Please, my dad has to work, and we really need the help."

"Well, once more, then," Linda said, her expression softening. She'd always softened so far, but Dean didn't know what he'd do if she didn't one of these days. He couldn't figure out where his father was. He was very late coming back this time, and Dean didn't know what to do. He collected the groceries Linda handed him and walked back to the motel. He took them inside and started putting them away. Sammy was at school, but Dean had had to stay home today, which meant he'd have to write a note to get back in tomorrow. He'd never really understood it. The food closet was only open during school hours, but weren't those when most people worked? Maybe they figured that most people who worked didn't need them.

He turned on the TV and started watching Perry Mason. It was cool even if it was old, and it beat Donahue all to hell. An hour of Perry Mason was followed by an hour of Charlie's Angels, and Dean began to consider staying home from school more often. Charlie's Angels beat fifth grade flat.

A knock on the door made him jump, and he got up slowly to go see who it was. He had to pull a chair over to see through the peephole. He stared for a minute, then he saw the man knock again. It was the manager of the motel. His name was Leon, and he'd been very friendly in a way that made Dean uncomfortable. Sammy seemed not to like him either, but since they never stayed anywhere long, it didn't much matter. This visit, though, could be trouble. He hadn't been sure how long they still had on the room, but he had a sinking feeling he was about to find out.

He climbed down and opened the door. "Hi."

The manager smiled down at him, and Dean gulped. When Leon started forward, Dean didn't want to let him in, but he didn't know how to stop him short of hurting him, and that wasn't a good idea. "I couldn't help noticing that you stayed home from school today, Dean," Leon said. "How are you feeling?"

"I was kind of sick at my stomach this morning," Dean said. "But I'm okay now."

"Good, good." Leon stood in the middle of the room for a minute, then walked over and put an arm around Dean's shoulders. "Let's have a seat."

Dean pulled away when Leon would have led him over to the couch and sat in the single chair. "Can I get you a drink?" he asked, remembering his manners suddenly.

Leon shook his head. "Dean, do you know where your daddy is?" he asked.

"He's at work. He'll be back later," Dean said.

"Well, now, I haven't seen his car in days, and I'm pretty sure you two are alone in here."

"You just missed it," Dean said. "He's been back plenty of times."

"Well, I need to talk to him. The credit card he gave me for the room was just denied for the third time, and I've got to be paid."

Dean felt his mouth dry up, but he just gave Leon a concerned look and said, "I'll tell him when he comes home, I promise."

"I'm afraid that isn't good enough, Dean," Leon replied. "Your daddy hasn't been here. I checked the video tape." Dean didn't know what to say to that. "Now, I've already let you and Sammy stay here for a few days past when I should have kicked you out. I should, actually, call the county and have them take you."

Dean shook his head. "No, Dad will be back. He'll be back tonight."

"Of course he will," Leon said with a smile that Dean didn't like at all. "Now, why don't you come on over and sit by me," he added, patting the sofa next to him.

"What if I call my uncle?" Dean asked. He got up and picked up the phone. "He'd pay for sure." Leon just kept smiling, and when Dean put the phone to his ear, he didn't hear a dial tone. "What's wrong with the phone?"

"It got turned off automatically when you stopped paying."

Maybe that's why Dad hadn't called. Maybe he had, but they couldn't get the call because the phone was . . . but then he'd have called the office and they would have told him the problem and he would have paid. Dean cleared his throat. "Can I use the phone in the office? I'll call collect."

"Don't you like me, Dean?" Leon asked, his eyebrows going up. "I done you and Sammy a favor by not calling the county first thing, and you've been staying for three days without any payment at all."

Dean shrugged. "I like you fine," he said. "Can I use the office phone?"

"Come on and sit down by me and we'll talk about it," Leon said. Feeling obscurely like this was a really bad idea, Dean walked slowly over and sat down on the sofa, leaving a good six inches between him and Leon. Immediately, Leon reached out and scooted Dean over against his side, his hand on Dean's side at his waist. That close up he smelled like tobacco and coffee. "See, isn't that nicer?" Leon asked, his hand still on Dean.

"Can I use your phone, please?" Dean asked.

"You'll have to be nice to me first," Leon said. "You'll have to make me feel good." Dean stared straight ahead at the TV screen where the afternoon cartoons had taken over. Leon's hand was stroking down his leg now, and Dean had suddenly realized what he wanted. "In fact, if you're nice to me every day till your daddy gets back, you won't have to worry about anything."'

Dean pulled away, glaring at Leon. "I said my uncle would pay."

"Even if your uncle pays, the county would be very interested in a ten-year-old and a six-year-old living on their own for four days," Leon replied, never losing that creepy smile. Dean's gut twisted. Leon reached out and touched Dean's cheek with the back of his hand. "Won't do your daddy much good if he comes back to find you in foster care. Getting you back out could prove quite the struggle."

"But my uncle –"

"Unless he's right here in town, he won't get here fast enough, Dean," Leon said in a quiet, persuasive voice. He pulled Dean close again, and Dean let him. If he attacked the jerk, someone might call the police, and then they'd be right back to foster care. "On the other hand, you won't even have to bother your uncle if you're just nice to me till your daddy comes back."

Dean closed his eyes for a second to control himself, then turned and looked up at Leon. "My dad will kill you."

"Come on now, Dean, are you really going to tell your daddy?" Leon asked gently. "Do you want to make him feel bad like that? And what will he think of you for going along with it?"

Dean swallowed. He didn't know the answers to those questions, and he couldn't face them right now. He took in a deep breath and pulled away again, standing up so that he was eye to eye with Leon. "If you touch my brother, I will kill you," he said flatly.

Leon smiled and put his hands on Dean's shoulders, leaning close to kiss him on the forehead. His breath smelled like garlic and onions. Dean reached up reflexively and rubbed his forehead. Before anything else could happen, the door opened and Sammy walked in. Dean moved away fast, not wanting Sammy to see anything creepy. Leon put his hands in his pockets. "Well, Dean, why don't you come by after you've got little Sammy off to bed? You can use the phone then."

Dean nodded and Leon left. Dean let Sammy choose what was on TV and made him some Spaghetti-Ohs, then put him to bed at the usual time. As he started to leave, Sammy said, "Dean, where are you going?"

"Don't worry, Sammy, I'll be back soon," Dean said. "I've just got to call Uncle Bobby."

"Okay." Sammy rolled over and went to sleep.

Dean screwed up his courage. He'd bet that Uncle Bobby would pay, but then he'd come out, too, which meant that even if Dad took a lot longer, Dean wouldn't be stuck with Leon for too long. He picked up a piece of paper and sat down to write a note for Dad, so he wouldn't worry if he came in before Dean got back.

Before he'd even set pen to paper, he heard a familiar engine sound. Dean ran to the door and opened it to find the Impala parked right outside. Dad got out with bandages on his head and left shoulder. Dean's eyes darted towards the office window where he saw Leon peeking out. The old man withdrew instantly and Dean ran across to his father. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, Dude," Dad said. "Are you and Sammy okay?"

"We need to leave," Dean replied. "Can we leave tonight?"

"Tonight?" His father squatted and looked into Dean's eyes. "Why? What happened?"

"Leon, the manager, was talking about calling the county on us, and the money ran out three days ago, he said."

"Did he do anything?"

Dean shook his head. "No, Dad," he lied. "He was going to let me call Uncle Bobby from his phone, but then you came home."

His father glanced towards the office, then back down at Dean. "Okay, Dude, go pack up. I'll go see that Leon gets his money."

Dean nodded, then impulsively gave his father a hug. "Don't do that again, okay, Dad? You scared me. You were gone too long."

Dad hugged him back. "I'm sorry, Dude." He kissed Dean on the forehead, and that felt way better than having Leon do it. "Get yourself and Sammy packed and we'll head out."

Dean started packing things up and after a couple of minutes Sammy got up and came out into the living room. "Is Dad back?" he asked sleepily.

"Yeah, he's back."

"Good."

Dean crumpled up the paper he'd pulled out for the note and threw it away. He ruffled Sammy's hair and guided his brother into the bedroom so they could start packing up.