The Chase

Chapter 1

"Mac," she whispers. She stands by my bed, touching my arm.
"Hm?" I grumble.
"Mac, I'm cold again."
I roll over and pull the covers back. "Come here, Sister." Starling climbs into my bed and snuggles up to me, clutching her bear to her chest. I cover her up and wrap my arms around her.
"Mac, I had a dream that me and Stella were at the beach and a big wave came down and washed away our sand castles and I was sad so I started making a new one and..."
"Star. Baby. Go to sleep."
"I'm not tired bubba. I can't sleep. I already sleeped."
"Slept. And you have to go back to sleep baby girl. The sun isn't up yet. Close your eyes." She squeezes her eyes tight and lays very still. I relax and start to drift off again.
"Mac, my dream was a good dream. Can we go to the beach? Can we go to the beach so we can build sandcastles? Mac?"
"Starling." I grumble. I reach across her and grab my phone of the night stand. 5:24 in the morning.
"Mac, I'm hungry. Can I have cereal?" She looks up at me through her messy her.
"Ugh. Okay. Let's go."
She scrambles out of bed and I fight the urge to go back to sleep. I hear her little feet slap down the hallway to the kitchen. I hear the cabinet open and slam shut, then the fridge. I lumber down the hall. The cold air hits my bare chest and my feet feel frozen to the icy, linoleum floor.
"Here. Let me do that so you don't spill the milk again, kid." I take the jug of milk from her and pour some into the bowl of cereal. She climbs into her chair at the counter and I hand her a spoon. I turn to make some coffee and turn on the oven to help cut the chill in the house.

I lean against the counter and watch her eat. She's holding her teddy bear in her lap and pretending to feed him her breakfast.
"Mm, yummy. Is that yummy, T?" She says, as though she's talking to a baby.
I smile and shake my head. I look at the clock on the stove and see that it's almost 6.
"Stella!" Nothing.
"Stella!" I walk back down the hall to Stella and Starling's door. "Stell? Hey, you gotta get up. I have to get ready for work."
Stella lifts her head but doesn't say anything. I turn to my room and throw on some halfway clean Levi's and a faded T-shirt. I go to the laundry room and start searching for Starling something warm to wear so I can take her to Miss Lindsey.
"What're you doing?" I hear Stella in the doorway behind me.
"What's it look like? I'm getting Starling ready to go."
"I can keep her."
I throw a look over my shoulder like 'yeah right.'
"No really, Mac. Let her stay with me today. We're running low on cash. We can't afford to keep taking her to Lindsey everyday."
"Stella." I spin around to face her. "What are you doing today?"
"Nothing. I'll be home all day. I need to do some laundry and stuff."
"Uh huh. And you're not going to leave the house all day?"
"No."
"And none of your 'friends' are coming over?"
"Jesus, Mason. I can keep the baby today. Don't you trust me?"
No, I think to myself. I don't trust you to pay attention to her and not get distracted. But I just shake my head and hand her the clothes. She's right, we are running low on money. $9 an hour doesn't go far and we have bills to pay.
I turn to the kitchen and kiss Starling on top of the head. "Bye, baby girl. Be good for Sister today." I grab my old hoodie off the hook by the door and walk out onto the back steps, shutting the door behind me.
I pull the hoodie on and step down the back steps and across the yard to the sidewalk and start walking up the street towards the scrap yard.
"Yo, Mason!" Dean half jogs up to me. I turn and wait for him, breathing on my chilled hands and bouncing on my toes to try and warm up. As he gets closer, I see his black eye.
"What the fuck, Dean?" He touches his face, half hiding it. I push his hand down and turn his head so I can see it better. "Your dad again?"
He chuckles, "Yeah, same ol' same ol'."
"Dean. Man. This isn't funny. He's going to end up really hurting you."
"It's nothing, Mac." He brushes it off with a sly smile.
"I wish you'd let me kick his ass."
"Nah," he says, backing up and putting up his fists. He throws a few mock punches. "I can take him."
"He's a big guy, Dean. What happens when he puts you in the hospital? What happens when he ends up killing yo-"
"Mason." His face becomes stern for a second. "Drop it."
I just stare at him for a moment before raising my eyebrow and shaking my head. We start walking the short walk to work in silence.
"You think Ol' Sam will have breakfast for us this mornin'?" He says, lightening up again.
"I doubt it. Missy wasn't too pleased with him, bringing all their groceries to work for us."
"Good point. Let's stop in at Jay's and grab a biscuit or somethin'."
We cut across the back parking lot to the back door of Jay's little corner store.
"Morning, Jay!" Dean shouts across the store. "Your favorite boys are here!"
"You are not my favorite." Jay grumbles in his thick Indian accent.
"Ah, don't be like that. Ya know you love us."
"Yeah, yeah. What do you want?" Jay says, unamused.
"We'll take a couple of these biscuits here. Mac, go grab us a coke." Dean leans on the counter watching Jay put the half-homemade biscuits in a box.
"I'll take a pack of those Marlboro silvers, too."
Jay puts the box on the counter and grabs the cigarettes off the shelf behind him. I set the two cans down and Jay rings us up.
"$13.47."
"Just put it on our tab."
Jay huffs. "Are you ever going to pay me? Your 'tab' is getting up there."
"Ah, you know us Jay. We'll pay ya." Dean grabs our stuff off the counter and turns to walk out to the back of the store.
I grab a $5 from my wallet, seeing that it was now empty, and hand it to Jay. He gives me a half smile and puts it in the register.
"Have a good day." I throw over my shoulder on the way out.
"You, too," he replies.
We turn the corner and walk through the front gate of the junkyard, meandering up to the garage. Dean mumbles a tune.
"Is that Taylor Swift?" I chuckle, teasing.
"Dude. No."
He flops down in an old, dusty lawn chair and starts in on the biscuits, a lit cigarette between his teeth.
"Ya know, those things are bad for you." I say, taking the cigarette from his mouth and taking a long drag.
"Ha! Yeah. Ain't that like the pot calling the kettle black?" Dean laughs with a mouth full of biscuit.
"Mornin', Boys." A calloused voice calls from the back of the garage.
"Good morning, Sir." We answer.

Stella-
I sigh as I flop on the couch. My phone dings and it only makes me sigh again. I thought it was Mac but when I look its Greg.
*Hey Babe. I'm sorry ok. Just text me.
I smile before texting back.
*Whatever Greg. You don't get to cheat on me and just expect me to forgive you.
I throw my phone onto the couch before calling over to Starling, her head deep into her toy chest and I stop her before she makes a mess.
"Come on Star. Let's get you dressed, it's freezing in here." I giggle at her sweet face.
"Freezing." She wraps her arms around herself as she pretends to quiver.
"Come here, you silly girl!" I swoop her up before getting her changed.
-
"Do you know if she could have walked off? Where would she go?"
-
"No. Starling Mae you just ate breakfast. Can I eat mine please?"
-
"Well ma'am we can send out the search parties but without any eyewitnesses we can't find a lead."
-
"Fine here Star." I roll my eyes as I give her a bite of my cinnamon sugar toast.
My phone dings and hopes of it being Greg fills me, but Bubby's name was plastered on my screen.
*How's the baby?
My eyes feel like they are on fire because of how hard I roll them. He has no faith in me whatsoever and it irks me. I am the oldest and he treats me like I'm the youngest. I know he loves me but I just hate the way he treats me.
*I don't know Mac. Some cannibals stopped by in search of a young sacrifice and I offered her up.
I smirk as I look over at my empty plate, my gaze meeting Star's on the other side of the little coffee table. A hearty laugh escapes my lips as I notice her sugar covered face. She was a sneaky little thief!
"How about we draw Bubby some pictures?" I smile.
Mason-
I put the cigarette between my teeth and pull my phone out of my back pocket to shoot Stella a quick text.
*How's the baby?
I slide my phone back in my pocket and throw the cigarette out into the dirt in the yard.
"What ya got for us today, Sam?" I say, walking towards the back of the shop.
"Eh. We've got a fellar, needs some parts for a Ford he's rebuilding. Ya know that old bronco that's been sitting in the back for a while? The green one?"
"The '89?" I ask him.
"Yeah. I need the two of you to go pull the parts off of it. Fellars gonna be here at 9," Sam says a little louder so Dean can hear him. "So go on and get to gettin'."
Dean jumps out of his chair and tosses the empty biscuit box in the trash on the way in. Handing me what's left of my breakfast as he passes me, Dean starts collecting his tools off the back table.
"Alright." Dean says, still loading his box. "What are we gettin', Pops?"
"I need the alternator, the steering column, the fuel pump, the heating coil if it's any good, and the front bumper since the back one is crushed."
"You got it." Dean mock salutes and grabs his stuff and we fall into step heading towards the scrap yard.
"Oh, and take a look at the interior. If those front seats are any good, bring those, too." Sam says.
"Damn, Sam. Can we take the buggy then? No way we can tote all that back up here." Dean retorts, trying not to sound too hopeful.
"Ugh," Sam drawls. He scratches his scruffy beard, thinking. "Yeah, I guess you do need it." He says reluctantly. Dean gives a wide grin and wiggles his brow at me, a mischievous look in his eye. Sam tosses me the keys and Dean tries to snatch them from me. "Mason drives." Sam says firmly.
"Ugh that's not fair. I'm a good driver!" Dean pouts.
"Yeah, tell that to the back bumper of the bronco." Sam chuckles.