Chapter Text
Prompt: The only witness is a four year old.
The only witness is a four-year-old. Big blue eyes wander doubtfully over Sam as he squats before her. For all intents and purposes, she looks profoundly disinterested, reclining on the huge couch in her bubble-gum pink pincess dress, her brown tresses lank and probably sticky with whatever off-brand chocolate she had eaten last.
Damn it, he thought. Why do his puppy dog eyes only work on adults?
"Can you tell me what you saw?" Sam tries again, going for earnest and eager-to-listen as his voice softens.
She tilts her head. "Mmm, no," the little girl says matter-of-factly.
"Please?" She shakes her head and Sam wishes Dean were here; he was good with kids, damn it. "Why not?"
"No."
Sam glances around and then pulls out his wallet. "What if I give you five dollars?" She lights and he pulls out a green bill. Grabby little hands reach for it, but he pulls it back. "Nuh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh, what did you see, first?"
What comes out of her mouth is a string of half-garbled VERY emphatic speech in which Sam is pretty certain she references about three TV shows and calls herself a princess about a hundred times. He gives her a bitchface as she snatches the money from his fingers.
"No! Hey, give that back! I said tell me! With words!" Sam grabs the bill back.
"I did." She's not whining; in fact, she actually seems genuinely taken aback, maybe a little offended that he didn't understand her, like he was insinuating that he didn't understand her accent or something. And as far as he can tell, she's not lying.
"Can you say it slower?"
"No."
He relents, reluctantly offering the money back to the little girl. It's promptly snatched from him and she darts off just as Dean returns. His older brother is failing to not laugh around his bite of sandwich.
"S'matter with you, Sammy?" he asks, mouth half-full. "You can hustle full grown men at pool but you can't get a kid to talk without bribin' 'em?"