(This is being cross-posted from Of Gall and Grangers for the sake of continuity. Thanks to Paige and Ollie's players for allowing me to get Dean into a little hot water with Junior.)
~~~~~
It had taken a bit of digging, but Dean had somehow managed to find the address of the house Paige had shared with her mother after stumbling across an unpaid hospital bill among her things. He wasn't sure if he'd find anything there, but it was a place to start. It pissed him off to no end that her father had taken all her things and he was bound and determined to do what he could to rectify that. If nothing else, he at least wanted to find her cat. Most of her possessions could probably be replaced, except for the cat and maybe some photographs of her mother. The house wasn't hard to find. It was a lot swankier than what he expected and he hoped there was no alarm system in place or he'd been in deep trouble.
He whistled to himself as he pulled up in front of the building. "Someone's got money." He assumed that someone wasn't Paige, but someone sure as hell was loaded. Probably Daddy. He frowned as he thought about Paige's mom, not knowing much about her other than the fact that Paige had loved her and that she had died. It was one of the things that had drawn him to her, having that in common. Money didn't impress him much. He didn't care about money. It was just a means to an end, a necessity of survival. It made life easier, but it didn't make you happy necessarily.
He already hated her father for what he'd done to her, and the fact that he was loaded didn't help. Too often people let money and power go to their heads, and he didn't want anything to do with that. He'd rather be penniless than heartless.
After looking the place over a while, he got out of the car and closed the door, turning to take a look around the neighborhood. He would have opted for darkness, but then he'd have to explain his whereabouts to Paige. He didn't want to look too conspicuous so he'd opted to skip the jacket, instead wearing a black button-down shirt over top of a t-shirt. He'd shoved his handgun into the back of his jeans beneath his shirt, everything else he needed hiding in the pockets of his jeans.
The grounds were neatly trimmed and cleaned. A sign out front with a notice of auction closure. There seemed to be no bodies roaming the grounds but inside there was a single person piling up signed papers. Already a bottle of scotch and half was gone, a glass half empty in the wide hand of the one..and only..Junior.
Dean took another wary look around before making his way toward the house. There were a few windows open, which he found odd, but maybe they just didn't want the place to get cooped up in the heat of summer. So far, he hadn't seen evidence of anyone else being there, and if he did, he had a story prepared just in case. He tried the front door first, checking to see if it was locked.
It wasn't. In fact it was cracked open just a bit. There was no reason to lock up when he was just doing some final work. The floor of the dining room creaked as Jr. moved around, swearing under breath over one thing or another.
Dean didn't hear the creaking or the quiet swearing, at least not right away. He found it odd that the door was open. It meant there was probably someone inside, but he couldn't be sure who. A real estate agent maybe. Maybe it was Fiora. He smiled a little at the irony of that. If it was, he was ready to give her an earful about her client.
There was some howling, besides the swearing, that could be heard if someone listened well enough. Sure enough in the living room, thrown in fact, was a carrier tilted wrong side against the wall. A little white paw poking through the wire grate. Someone was not a happy kitty.
Dean heard the howling and pushed the door open just enough to let himself slip past, casting a glance right and left to see if he was alone, and started in the direction of the howling. Without any real knowledge of how the place was laid how, he could only follow his ears to lead him to the cat's whereabouts.
Dean knelt down when he found the cat, feeling bad for the poor little thing and glancing over a shoulder to see who might have thrown it so heartlessly against a wall like they had. He reached out to touch the little paw that was sticking out of the cage, his voice dropping to a whisper. "It's okay. I'm gonna get you outta here and take you to Paige," he told the cat. How many times had he done just that with people" Freed them from some monster or other. It seemed ironic to him that he was doing the same thing again, only with a cat.
Normally the sweetest thing there was but when she hadn't been fed and by the looks of her coating hadn't had any sort of loving since...well....a while. Dean's fingers were pawed at angrily and the feline hissed. The howling got louder. Loud enough to piss Junior off. "Shut up you damn varmint! Can't wait until the pound comes to put an end to your hide."
The pawing didn't bother Dean, but the howling did. He felt horrible for the poor little thing, knowing she was probably scared to death, hungry, and lonely. He reached a finger into the cage to give the cat a little reassuring nudge, jaw clenching when he heard a voice from the next room. He carefully righted the cage and moved to his feet to make his escape.
An incoming bottle barely missed Dean when he moved. It skimmed past his head and crashed loudly to the wall behind him. "Who the hell are you, boy' Got some damn nerve stealing my animal." Junior was already on his way across the room, his hard face lined with angry wrinkles.
Dean grabbed hold of the cage and backed away from the man, not from fear but just to put some space between them and give him a little time. "Not your animal. She belongs to Paige. You were gonna send her to the pound and have her killed, so what do you care?"
Junior's face started to grow red hot with anger, the lines increasing. A scowl tore his mouth as he stormed across the room. "So that little bitch sent you? That thing is on my property. She has no rights to my property so drop it and return to your little slut before I make you regret your pitiful existence, boy."
Dean knew from the look on the man's face that he was going to rip him in half if he didn't either high tail it out of there or defend himself and being Dean, his gut instinct was to reach around and grab the gun from its hiding place in the back of his jeans. Though looking like a boy of no more than seventeen, his expression hardened, eyes flashing with anger. "Stay where you are. Don't come any closer. All I want is what rightfully belongs to her." He pointed the gun at Junior, looking like he wasn't afraid to use it. "You her father?"
Junior continued forward a few steps more before stopping and glaring down the end of the barrel. "She sure has got you wrapped tight, doesn't she?" Junior's eyes narrowed down the length of the gun until he found Dean's boyish face. Cold blooded showed no fear and Dean wasn't going to shake that. "Rightfully belongs to her" Who do you think paid for that or anything she has in her worthless life, boy' You better cut that one loose or you're going to find yourself in a heap of trouble." Junior's hand went up but not to swat away the gun. Instead he took a causal drink out of the glass in hand. "I don't claim her."
Dean cut right through the crap Junior was spewing, coming to the obvious conclusion that this piece of crap was her father and that he could have cared less about his daughter. For all the issues Dean had with his father, he knew that deep down the man had loved him. He couldn't say the same for Paige. Dean's eyes narrowed at the veiled threat, instinct telling him her father wasn't someone to screw with, but he didn't care. He'd fried bigger and far more dangerous fish. "Are you threatening me?"
~~~~~
It had taken a bit of digging, but Dean had somehow managed to find the address of the house Paige had shared with her mother after stumbling across an unpaid hospital bill among her things. He wasn't sure if he'd find anything there, but it was a place to start. It pissed him off to no end that her father had taken all her things and he was bound and determined to do what he could to rectify that. If nothing else, he at least wanted to find her cat. Most of her possessions could probably be replaced, except for the cat and maybe some photographs of her mother. The house wasn't hard to find. It was a lot swankier than what he expected and he hoped there was no alarm system in place or he'd been in deep trouble.
He whistled to himself as he pulled up in front of the building. "Someone's got money." He assumed that someone wasn't Paige, but someone sure as hell was loaded. Probably Daddy. He frowned as he thought about Paige's mom, not knowing much about her other than the fact that Paige had loved her and that she had died. It was one of the things that had drawn him to her, having that in common. Money didn't impress him much. He didn't care about money. It was just a means to an end, a necessity of survival. It made life easier, but it didn't make you happy necessarily.
He already hated her father for what he'd done to her, and the fact that he was loaded didn't help. Too often people let money and power go to their heads, and he didn't want anything to do with that. He'd rather be penniless than heartless.
After looking the place over a while, he got out of the car and closed the door, turning to take a look around the neighborhood. He would have opted for darkness, but then he'd have to explain his whereabouts to Paige. He didn't want to look too conspicuous so he'd opted to skip the jacket, instead wearing a black button-down shirt over top of a t-shirt. He'd shoved his handgun into the back of his jeans beneath his shirt, everything else he needed hiding in the pockets of his jeans.
The grounds were neatly trimmed and cleaned. A sign out front with a notice of auction closure. There seemed to be no bodies roaming the grounds but inside there was a single person piling up signed papers. Already a bottle of scotch and half was gone, a glass half empty in the wide hand of the one..and only..Junior.
Dean took another wary look around before making his way toward the house. There were a few windows open, which he found odd, but maybe they just didn't want the place to get cooped up in the heat of summer. So far, he hadn't seen evidence of anyone else being there, and if he did, he had a story prepared just in case. He tried the front door first, checking to see if it was locked.
It wasn't. In fact it was cracked open just a bit. There was no reason to lock up when he was just doing some final work. The floor of the dining room creaked as Jr. moved around, swearing under breath over one thing or another.
Dean didn't hear the creaking or the quiet swearing, at least not right away. He found it odd that the door was open. It meant there was probably someone inside, but he couldn't be sure who. A real estate agent maybe. Maybe it was Fiora. He smiled a little at the irony of that. If it was, he was ready to give her an earful about her client.
There was some howling, besides the swearing, that could be heard if someone listened well enough. Sure enough in the living room, thrown in fact, was a carrier tilted wrong side against the wall. A little white paw poking through the wire grate. Someone was not a happy kitty.
Dean heard the howling and pushed the door open just enough to let himself slip past, casting a glance right and left to see if he was alone, and started in the direction of the howling. Without any real knowledge of how the place was laid how, he could only follow his ears to lead him to the cat's whereabouts.
Dean knelt down when he found the cat, feeling bad for the poor little thing and glancing over a shoulder to see who might have thrown it so heartlessly against a wall like they had. He reached out to touch the little paw that was sticking out of the cage, his voice dropping to a whisper. "It's okay. I'm gonna get you outta here and take you to Paige," he told the cat. How many times had he done just that with people" Freed them from some monster or other. It seemed ironic to him that he was doing the same thing again, only with a cat.
Normally the sweetest thing there was but when she hadn't been fed and by the looks of her coating hadn't had any sort of loving since...well....a while. Dean's fingers were pawed at angrily and the feline hissed. The howling got louder. Loud enough to piss Junior off. "Shut up you damn varmint! Can't wait until the pound comes to put an end to your hide."
The pawing didn't bother Dean, but the howling did. He felt horrible for the poor little thing, knowing she was probably scared to death, hungry, and lonely. He reached a finger into the cage to give the cat a little reassuring nudge, jaw clenching when he heard a voice from the next room. He carefully righted the cage and moved to his feet to make his escape.
An incoming bottle barely missed Dean when he moved. It skimmed past his head and crashed loudly to the wall behind him. "Who the hell are you, boy' Got some damn nerve stealing my animal." Junior was already on his way across the room, his hard face lined with angry wrinkles.
Dean grabbed hold of the cage and backed away from the man, not from fear but just to put some space between them and give him a little time. "Not your animal. She belongs to Paige. You were gonna send her to the pound and have her killed, so what do you care?"
Junior's face started to grow red hot with anger, the lines increasing. A scowl tore his mouth as he stormed across the room. "So that little bitch sent you? That thing is on my property. She has no rights to my property so drop it and return to your little slut before I make you regret your pitiful existence, boy."
Dean knew from the look on the man's face that he was going to rip him in half if he didn't either high tail it out of there or defend himself and being Dean, his gut instinct was to reach around and grab the gun from its hiding place in the back of his jeans. Though looking like a boy of no more than seventeen, his expression hardened, eyes flashing with anger. "Stay where you are. Don't come any closer. All I want is what rightfully belongs to her." He pointed the gun at Junior, looking like he wasn't afraid to use it. "You her father?"
Junior continued forward a few steps more before stopping and glaring down the end of the barrel. "She sure has got you wrapped tight, doesn't she?" Junior's eyes narrowed down the length of the gun until he found Dean's boyish face. Cold blooded showed no fear and Dean wasn't going to shake that. "Rightfully belongs to her" Who do you think paid for that or anything she has in her worthless life, boy' You better cut that one loose or you're going to find yourself in a heap of trouble." Junior's hand went up but not to swat away the gun. Instead he took a causal drink out of the glass in hand. "I don't claim her."
Dean cut right through the crap Junior was spewing, coming to the obvious conclusion that this piece of crap was her father and that he could have cared less about his daughter. For all the issues Dean had with his father, he knew that deep down the man had loved him. He couldn't say the same for Paige. Dean's eyes narrowed at the veiled threat, instinct telling him her father wasn't someone to screw with, but he didn't care. He'd fried bigger and far more dangerous fish. "Are you threatening me?"