Mink (minkmix) wrote,

SPN Fic: Payment Plan 2/3

A request! A "Hell is Other People Theme" complete with an Outside POV and Teen!Chester Peril. Aw. NOT my usual feel good stuff, so be forewarned! D:

Title: Payment Plan - 1 - 2 - 3 & Epilogue I - Epilogue II - Epilogue III - Epilogue IV
Author: Mink
Rating: R for Voilence - Gen - Wee! & Teen!Chesters
Spoilers: None
Disclaimers: SPN & characters are owned by their various creators.

It took several phones calls in a round about way to find that what he had suspected had happened, indeed had.

The owner and operator of the charming little bed and breakfast at the edge of town had informed his informant that the bastard of the hour had taken off sometime during the night. Hadn't bothered to even close the goddamn motel door behind him or even settle the bill which turned out to be all charged on a bum credit card. Tapping his cell phone on the table he came to a few conclusions.

No one was on their way here because well, no one knew where preciously here was. His was a mobile business. It wasn't very savvy to let every desperate broke reject that came looking for your services to know where you kept it all. But his phone lines were always open. 24 hour operator assistance for your every need. A roll through his messages and he didn't see the name that had been on his mind since his pocket felt a whole five large lighter.

"So long Johnny." He said to himself. "I guess it was a pleasure to have done business with you."

A few more calls that consisted of nothing but his phone connecting and leaving a call back and he let his network start working for him. It was good that he had gotten such a sound night's sleep. It was important to start these things early and let the day play them out to their best conclusion.

If you caught all the right players at all the right times you could be over and done with within a mere 24 hours. He would like that. Baby sitting had never held much appeal. Children had never made much sense to him. Even when he had once been one he had never gotten much enjoyment out of their company. Although, he did relate to the natural sense of self entitlement. For some reason adults always tried to steer young minds away from the simple natural tendency to want things the way they wanted them.

Walking down the stairs, he thought about how most people where nothing but the sum of their own shams. That sense of need never went away. It just got kept buried deep down. It was sad to see grown men use their deserved outrage on the petty. An overcharge on a grocery receipt. An overbooked flight. Getting cut off in traffic. He had never lost sight of what he really deserved. He knew what warranted true anger.

While he waited for his toaster to ding he looked thoughtfully through the ample box of medication he kept in his pantry closet. Shaking an amber plastic bottle, he was happy to hear it was more than half way full.

Everything in his tidy living room was as he left it the night before.


The kid had managed to work one leg free out of the tape, and had half way accomplished getting out from under the heavy blanket. It was rather warm in here. With the gag maybe it had been a little difficult to breathe. He was awake. It was plain to see his body tense up at the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Good morning." Came the affable greeting as he pulled away the thick knitted quilt.

In the sudden bright light, the kid blinked up rapidly at him, the front of his T-shirt soaked in a V of sweat, his cheeks flushed red but the rest of his skin pale. Maybe he should have given the guy some water before he had gone to bed last night. He had been so tired that the idea hadn't even crossed his mind.

Walking behind him, it was a simple thing to unhook the bungee so he could lower his arms. The kid quickly did so, but much too fast. Cramped in place for so many hours, he groaned behind the dish rag as he tried to stiffly move them. With shaking hands, he immediately began pulling at the cloth in his mouth. It didn't take long to realize it was knotted too tightly and unreachable behind his head.

"Are we going to start yelling again?"

The kid paused in his fumbling when he saw the open blades of the scissors.

"Because yelling gives me a headache." He explained.

The kid slowly shook his head.

One clean snip and the cloth fell away. The boy gasped as it was pulled free, the corners of his mouth red and slightly bruised.


He could see the turmoil in the kid's eyes. Obviously, the need for water probably superseded the desire for freedom at this point. Hell, if he woke up in the middle of the night even slightly parched he felt like almost dying himself.

"I'll be right back."

Walking into his kitchen, he was happy to see the browned bread steaming and ready. He opened a brand new jar of raspberry jam to eat on his toast and poured himself some coffee. There was a small portable radio he turned on to listen to the news line while he reexamined the brown plastic bottle he'd found earlier.

Between bites of breakfast, he shook out a hand full of pills. Using his coffee spoon he carefully crushed three of the white tablets before reconsidering and crushing three more. It was excessive but it was better to be safe than sorry. Besides at the end of the day and if all went well, the kid wouldn't be his problem to deal with anyway. Almost on cue, his cell phone chimed. Checking the ID, he smiled. This was even better than he'd hoped. This particular freelancer always found the suburbanites that seemed to want to pay just about any sum you asked for as long as you didn't ask them too many questions. That was fine with him. He honestly felt much better off not knowing. Flipping open his phone he listened carefully to the man on the other end.

It never ceased to amaze him how quickly and easily it was to unload the boys. Logic would dictate that the girls would be more marketable but it really wasn't the case. Especially white boys. He had made sure to indicate that this was no ordinary street find which was most likely why he had such a quick bite on the hook.

It was just one of those things. Girls or boys, if it didn't speak Spanish than the price tag always went way up. That had always puzzled him too. What was the difference exactly? He was fairly certain that these buyers weren't looking for something to debate politics with. His man on the line quickly negotiated the finder fee and text messaged over the contact number. The number dialed in a series of pleasing sounds and rang four times before it was picked up.

Now it was his turn to go to work.

"Hello, I was told you're interested in a used car?"

The voice on the other end sounded older. They usually were. They asked a few questions. He answered them.

It's about 14 years old but it runs fine.

Green paint job.

Stolen but unreported. It will never be missed.

While the man on the other end began to hesitantly ask about the embarrassing business of the price, he tapped the crushed white powder into a red coffee mug of cold water. He stirred it as he waited for the man to stop explaining that he had 'never done anything like this before' and would deeply appreciate the 'utmost discretion'.

There was a silence after the amount was declared.

Honestly, he thought he had even overstepped his very own set of business ethics with the outrageous monetary request. After a few tense moments, the gentleman on the line agreed. Now, when exactly would he be able to come and get that car? He explained that no clients ever came directly to his establishment. But not to worry, it was just fine, he knew a place that they could meet. It was only thirty minutes outside of the city and very private.

Would 9PM that night be okay?


Cash only please.

He snapped his phone back shut with a content sigh.

With some morning cartoons on in the background to make his guest feel at ease, he placed the mug in the kid's bound hands. The boy wasn't stupid. He was looking down at it with about as much trust in his eyes that he had for anything else around him.

"I-I want to see my brother." Dry and ragged, the soft voice was hoarse and unused.

That brother again. He had completely forgotten about that.

"He's not here."

"Wha-" The kid's eyes widened and his hands started to shake again. "What you do with 'im? Where--"

"Would you like to go see him?"

The kid nodded quickly, the steady hard look in his eyes slipping a little with his hope.

"Drink it." He told him.

The boy looked down into the mug again.

"If you don't, then I can assure you, you're not going anywhere anytime soon." He sighed. That he meant. The last thing he needed was to be pulled over with some screaming kid in his trunk.

Seeing the promise of those words in his eyes, the kid slowly lifted the mug to his lips. It only took a few moments of the cold water on his tongue to make his misgivings almost vanish, and soon the entire contents was gulped down breathlessly.

"Good." He took the mug back and smiled. "That wasn't so bad was it?"

The kid's green eyes suddenly got bright and wet.

"Do you want some more?"

He reluctantly and miserably shook his head no.

Although he enjoyed the isolation of his building, the city public tap water was horrible. Pouring from the tall plastic bottle that sat on the table, he refilled the mug anyway and handed it back. He had done it three times before the kid was finished. Watching the last mug of it go, he used the scissors to cut the tape that was left wrapped around the boy's legs.

"I'm sure you have to use the bathroom."

The gaze watching him was already starting to slip, eye lids getting heavy as the tape around his wrists was neatly clipped away as well. He got him to his feet. Swaying, the kid stumbled up against him. When he saw that the boy could put some weight on that ankle he knew the pills were more than working. He half lead him, half dragged him down the hall to an open door.

The kid pushed weakly away from him and staggered to the sink to support himself. Catching the sight of his face in the mirror, he stared for a moment. The hit on the table the night before had left the fine line of a gash just above one eye. And the cost for kicking around had darkened one side of his face into blues and purples.

"There's no window and no lock." He said as he shut the door to offer some privacy.

About to go make himself another cup of coffee, he paused and leaned back close to the door.

"You have about five minutes before you won't even be able to remember your own name." He added. "So, I'd hurry if I were you."

As he walked away he heard the tap twist on and the hiss of the water in the sink. He heard something else under it too and was pretty surprised it took this long for it to happen. At least the kid had enough decency to crack whatever tears he needed in the bathroom where no one had to see it. It was those kinds of things that a man like him really appreciated.

Especially when he had so much work left to do before 9PM.

to be continued...

Tags: payment plan
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