Witness Protection

                                    

                                          
'So let me get this straight... you're saying that your son saw these - men - with bright red eyes?' Dean asked inquisitively, standing just slightly taller than a red-haired woman in a diner waitress dress. 'Yes, sir. Like fire, he said.' Replied the woman. 'And where is your son now?' Dean further questioned. 'In his room, back at the house.' The waitress moved to more hushed tones. Dean craned down slightly further. Although he was the shorter of the brothers, he was still taller than this woman. That felt really good. 'Can I talk to him?' 
                          
A few minutes later, Dean's feet slowly trod up the carpeted stairs of a small house on the outskirts of the village. Wall-stickers of flying saucers and the like paved the way for the small boy's room. Looking at this - it was no wonder that he was so foolhardy when taking a peek at the 'crash sight'. Come to think of it, Dean hadn't yet investigated the crater. He added a mental note to do that after this. 
Gently pushing open the door, he found the child sat by a wooden desk. Sheets of paper with what he assumed were the things that the child had seen littered the floor and sides of the table.
                          
The child shivered slightly, sensing the hunter's presence. Timothy turned around, slowly focussing his bloodshot and scared eyes on Dean's. Dean's gaze softened instantly, and he came and knelt down beside Tim. 'Hey, mate. I'm here to talk to you about what you saw at the crash sight.' 
Tim recoiled slightly, and then started to speak. 'It was an alien. Red eyes, and blue skin. And it was so cold, like ice.' 
Dean paused a moment, and then put his hand on the pictures that the child had drawn. Picking them up, he started to look through them. Each and every one of them depicted the same thing. A glowing blue thing in the crater, and tall men wearing black suits and ties standing around it. Three of them. Classic Men in Black. 
Dean pointed to the UFO, and asked Tim about it. 'The thing that fell from the sky, what did it look like?' 
Timothy thought for a minute, and then spoke in a quiet and confused voice. 'It was black - with these weird blue symbols that shone like my nightlight.' Dean was instantly interested. 'Can you draw them for me?' Tim nodded silently, and then grabbed a stubby blue crayon from a drawer. 
Five minutes later, Dean was on his way out of the house - holding three sheets of gleefully coloured paper with blue symbols drawn on them. However, as he looked out across the street that should have only contained his Impala - he saw another, black van parked just behind it. He knew that his car wouldn't be able to reverse out of the driveway if he didn't tell the owner of the van to move. He walked briskly over to the van, pocketing the drawings for good measure. 
                          
Tapping on the window of the car - the darkened glass window - he called out 'Scuse me - I can't reverse!' His stomach fell about a mile when he realised what he'd walked into. A chill rocketed down his neck, and his muscles instinctively tensed. 
'Hello Mr Winchester, my name is Ingrid Cold. I apologise for the inconvenience, but you may need to come with us.'